Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Goodbye 2013

It's astounding (time is fleeting) how quickly 2013 passed. Once again, though, I have a sinking feeling that it was yet another "lost" year... Marked by stagnation and obstruction. Another continuation of the "noughts" brought to you by a political party that thinks it is more important to spite the first black president than it is to move the country forward. I sure hope that 2014 is a better year, but it will entail a lot of work. November will soon be upon us.

As a side note, this last post of the year is the first I've composed on my phone. I don't think it will become a trend with me, but it's nice to know that I can use my phone to do more than watch porn.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Faithful Departed

Reading about a proposed "Pogues" musical written by David Simon, creator of The Wire, I read that Phil Chevron had been collaborating with Mr Simon. On October 8th, Phil, born Phillip Ryan, succumbed to esophageal cancer at the age of 56. As is typical, I was preoccupied with work for the entire month of October and was unable to keep abreast of current events. I learned about Phil's death in November, in the course of a conversation with my brother Vincenzo.

Phil Chevron's career with the Pogues began when he produced the Ennio Morricone inspired, Jem Finer penned A Pistol for Paddy Garcia. He then joined the band as a guitarist, beginning with the Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash album. Prior to his career with the Pogues, Phil was a founding member of The Radiators from Space, a band which had the distinction of releasing the first Irish punk single, Television Screen:





The album T.V. Tube Heart followed, with songs like Sunday World covering the same theme as The Jam's News of the World:





Enemies was another standout track from the album, an angst-ridden but tuneful lament about not knowing who has your best interests at heart:





In 1979, the band shortened its name to The Radiators and released their second album, the critically acclaimed Ghostown. The album is more sonically complex than the first album, with influences ranging from rockabilly to show tunes. It's also extremely dense lyrically, with numerous literary allusions cropping up in the course of the album. If there's a song that could claim the "title track" mantle, it would have to be the mind-boggling, Joyce inspired Kitty Ricketts:





They're Looting in the Town is another outstanding track, one which begins by contrasting the piety of the laity with the rapaciousness of the clergy:





Another standout song, recorded in the 80's, but added to later pressings of the album, is Under Clery's Clock, a song about a same-sex rendezvous, fraught with the same danger as that which ensnared Oscar Wilde:





In Phil's tenure with The Pogues, he contributed perhaps the greatest emigration song ever written to the band's repertoire- Thousands are Sailing, from the album If I Should Fall from Grace with God, is a tearjerker, perfectly capturing the ambivalence of emigrants who "celebrate the land that makes us refugees". Here's a version with Phil handling lead vocal:





The other magnum opus Phil contributed to the Pogues repertoire was Lorelei off the Peace and Love album. Lorelei is a sublimely beautiful song about a drowning man resisting the charms of the eponymous Rhine siren. Here's a live version by Phil from 2004:





I've saved my favorite Phil Chevron song for last, the epic Song of the Faithful Departed, from which this post (Phil was secular) derives its name. I covered the song in a previous blog post- suffice it to say that it is chock full of literary allusions (covered in that other post) and addresses a society confronted by religious hypocrisy:


The girls from the kips proclaim their love for you
When you stumbled in they knew you had a shilling or two
But they cursed you on Sundays and holy days
When you all stayed away

And when you slept there naked light bulb blinded your shame
The shadows on the wall took all the blame
And the Sacred Hearts picture compassion in His eyes
Drowned out the river's sighs



The original version of the song is a new-wave epic:





The song, which has taken on the status of a standard in Ireland, was covered by trad stalwart Christy Moore, who seems to be taking his cues from an acoustic version which was the B-side of Kitty Ricketts:





Finally, here's a version of the song which Phil performed with some guy named Declan:





Phil's sendoff must have been quite the occasion, being attended by luminaries of the literary and music worlds. Phil left a legacy of amazing music behind, songs of great erudition, wisdom and compassion. He will certainly be missed by his fans, but there's no more tristesse afflicting him. Rest in peace, seanchaí.

POSTSCRIPT: Once again, I am shocked that Shane MacGowan has outlived a colleague... first Kirsty MacColl, now Phil. I love Shane, but it's stunning that he has buried two collaborators so far. I hope he lives past one hundred!


Saturday, December 28, 2013

You Have My Gratitude!

I am grateful to Batocchio of Vagabond Scholar for including me in his annual Jon Swift Memorial Roundup this year. Thanks also go to Tengrain of Mock Paper Scissors, who seems to be embarrassed by his nickname "Patron Saint of Small Bloggers"- he put in a good word for me with Batocchio.

I see that a number of the folks on my blogroll also made the grade, and it warms the cockles of my heart. High fives and a group hug to everyone!

Friday, December 27, 2013

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Big Wheel!

Consider, if you will, the Marx toy company Big Wheel, best described by Alison the Heavy Metal Waitress as "A red piece of plastic, until you leave it out in the rain, when it becomes an orange piece of plastic"... an inexpensive plastic tricycle that had special "spin out" brakes on the rear wheels. I had a Big Wheel as a kid, I imagine most of the people in my age cohort in the states had one. It was a pretty sweet ride, all told.

Today, while walking home from running errands, I passed by the local school and saw a couple of pre-adolescents riding some sweet-looking big "Big Wheels". These things had adjustable seats, so they looked like an adult could possibly ride one. I asked their mom where she had gotten these badass machines, and she told me that Toys-R-Us has them on sale.

Poking around the intert00bz, I discovered that there are high end adult "Big Wheels". Who knew? I imagine it would be impractical to commute to work using one of these- the temptation to continually "spin out" would slow one's progress down. Still, watching the kids doing donuts on the basketball court had me pondering a bout of arrested development.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

A War on Christmas Carol

With apologies to Shane and Kirsty:

It was Christmas Eve, babe, at the Nat Rev,
A gauche man said to me, "That's central to my point."
And then he sang a song, a turgid tune by Rush.
I turned my face away, that boy just won't hush..
Got on the gravy train, no need to use my brain.
I have a feeling, that I will start to spew.
So happy Christmas, you godless heathens.
I can see better times, when I can jail you!

They've got fake wars on things, they have purity rings,
They've got teabagger rallies where Lloyd Marcus sings.
When I first lost my mind and became a wingnut,
I became obsessed by gay sex in the butt.
You were mad, you were nutty, we called MIss Fluke slutty,
When Ted Nugent was playing, the crowd howled for blood.
Obama was winning, the gays were all sinning.
We wrote for the Corner, and shilled for the right.

The checks that we lined our pockets with were coming from the Kochs,
And the comment threads were full of racist jokes!

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

The War on Merry

First of all, here's wishing a happy Christmas to all of my readers. I hope you had a good day with your loved ones. My Christmas was pretty 'meh', but I specifically "took one on the chin" so my co-workers could enjoy their holiday and worked an overnight double. It was a quiet night, and I got to spend time with mah preshus kittehs.

Anyway, contemplating the past month, I came to the conclusion in the quiet moments that the people who claim that there is a war on Christmas have successfully waged a war on "merry". The generic greeting "Happy Holidays" is inclusive- not only does it acknowledge that ours is a pluralistic society composed of adherents to many religions, it also encompasses a holiday season that ranges from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day (or Orthodox Christmas, if it falls after New Year's Day). The insistence that only one holiday be celebrated signals to members of minority faiths, or no faith of all, that their status is second-class. The humorless prigs (yeah, even when they claim they're joking, they look dour and angry) who are preoccupied with the fake war on Christmas are anything but merry.

Religious Christians have adopted the slogan "Jesus is the Reason for the Season". I'm going to ad that "Jesus of Cool Makes a Good Yule". In other words, Nick Lowe has released a really great Christmas song, compete with a video reminiscent of an animated Christmas special:





As a guy who had weather related travel complications earlier this month, I immediately loved the song. I could listen to it a second time, so here's a live performance by Mr Lowe:





Remember that the "merry" is just as important as the "Christmas". Perhaps the question that people need to ask these days is "What would Nick Lowe do?"

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Improvised Fish Thing

It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the workplace! One of my co-workers has a second job as the manager of the clubhouse for a fraternal organization, and he has to work his second job because a client rented out the hall for a big party. Another co-worker has a couple of kids at home, and wanted to spend Christmas morning with them. I started my work-stint at 4PM Christmas Eve and will be working straight through to 8AM Christmas morning. I don't mind, everything will be quiet, and I'll be able to go out drinking on St Stephen's Day. Yeah, I've got this thing figured out.

There's one nod to tradition that I figured I'd try to make on this Christmas Eve, and that's the Fish Thing, more properly known in the NY Metro Area as The Feast of the Seven Fishes. On my way to work, I stopped at the local grocery store and picked up some of the frutti di mare, specifically four types of fish and three types of molluscs:





The "cooking" facilities on the job are pretty slim- I had access to a knife, a plate, and a microwave. I was somehow able to cook some orzo by nuking several coffee cups of water and continually soaking the orzo in changes of boiling water. Miraculously, I was able to achieve a perfect al dente texture. I then tossed the orzo with some diced red onion, hot peppers grown by a co-worker, sundried tomatoes, garlic, and anchovies. I used this pasta as the bed on which to serve small portions of the tinned seafood:




On the bottom left is a portion of smoked scallops served on a sliced baguette, while a codfish filet sits at the six o'clock position followed by (going counterclockwise) calamari in its ink, octopus in olive oil, fish "steaks" with hot peppers in oil, and fish "steaks" in hot sauce.

The meal came together extremely well for a hastily improvised, no-equipment effort. In some ways, cobbling together this dish was a process similar to the purported origins of pasta alla puttanesca, a dish often hastily assembled from canned ingredients. Cooking is an endeavor in which technique often trumps fancy ingredients- all of the fancy Himalayan pink salt in the world can't make up for ham-fistedness in the kitchen.

Buon Natale, amici!

Monday, December 23, 2013

I Celebrate it Year Round!

So, today is Festivus, a "holiday" characterized by the airing of grievances and feats of strength. Meh, I air my grievances on this blog on a regular basis and go to a dojo to get my "feats of strength" card punched. Why limit these activities to one day?

Speaking about airings of grievances and feats of strength, I just discovered the hilarious "Jane Austen's Fight Club":





For those of you celebrating Festivus, have a productive one... what adjective does one use to describe such a holiday? "Merry" or "Happy" don't fit. Cathartic Festivus?

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Skyclad Solstice!

This Fall went out like a sonofabitch- the temperatures dipped into the "teens" earlier this week, and we had snow accumulations on Sunday and Tuesday. There are still hills of snow in the parking lot at work, left by the plow. Today, the first day of Winter, it's pushing 60 degrees Fahrenheit (about 15 Celsius). I'm walking around in a polo shirt. Tomorrow, it's expected to hit 65 F (about 18 C), which is "shorts" weather for me. For all of my pagan friends, it'll be a prime solstice on which to go around skyclad.

Back in 2010, I put up a post which referenced the song Have Yourself a Groovy Little Solstice, but was unable to find a version of the song to post. Happily (or should I say groovily?) some kind hearted pirate posted the song to Y00t00b last year. Have yourselves a groovy little solstice, dear readers!


Thursday, December 19, 2013

Dick Dynasty

I don't have a T.V., so I was blissfully unaware of the show Duck Dynasty, a show about a clan of successful duck-call crafters, until it became a cultural touchstone for right-wingers. Lately, one of the members of the family has caused a bit of a furor by making some nasty comments about gay men. Let's get it straight from the duck dude's quackhole:


“It seems like, to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man’s anus. That’s just me. I’m just thinking: There’s more there! She’s got more to offer. I mean, come on, dudes! You know what I’m saying? But hey, sin: It’s not logical, my man. It’s just not logical.”


Even more striking to me than the homophobia is the sexism- yeah, ladies, you have more to offer society than a man... one whole orifice (whole hole?) more! Robertson has one thing right, a vagina is a lot more desirable than an asshole like Roberton. Seriously, his comment reducing women to the sum total of their orifices should be creating more of a stir.

The best response to this controversy would be airing a satirical skit called Dick Dynasty, about a gay-owned company that makes custom dildos. The slogan of the show could be "No Beards!" Somebody, get on this stat! Fight the hate with ridicule.

UPDATE: When I wrote this post, I wasn't even aware of the racist element of Duck Dick's blathering:


I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person. Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field.... They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word!... Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues.


Yeah, he never heard a word about "these doggone white people" from the black farmhands with whom he worked, and he chalked that up to "happiness" rather than fear of reprisal. He must have known what was going on during the civil rights struggles of the early-to-mid 60s, so this statement shows a willful ignorance on his part (or pure trollery).

Homophobia, sexism, and racism... a classic American combo, just like processed beef scraps, E. coli, and ammonia.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Another Friendly Voice Gone Silent

Damn, it's happened again- another favorite local DJ of mine passed away this year- Caroline Corley, who spun records at my local commercial radio station of choice, passed away while I was on my European vacation. Her memorial, which I was unable to attend, took place tonight. Caroline was a friendly voice, a companion unobtrusive so to speak, riding along on the commute home. She had a great sense of humor, which shines through this self-deprecating bit of her station biography:


“After being fired from every (yes, EVERY) rock station in Denver she came to New York to collect legendary station call letters like Pam Anderson collects rock star boyfriends — WLIR (just before their tragic demise), WYNY when they were country (just before their tragic demise), and WCBS-FM (just AFTER their tragic demise!)”


A friend and co-worker of mine corresponded with Caroline on a regular basis, and used to be perpetually steamed that the nature of our work made the station's Coffee with Caroline promotion unfeasible for us to host. I believe my friend was at tonight's memorial- if she was, I imagine she left a lot of other attendees with tear-soaked shoulders, being one of those wonderful people who wears every emotion openly.

Caroline Corley's catchphrase, delivered every day without fail, was "It's a beautiful day in NY's Backyard." I remember driving home from work in a downpour and hearing her deliver that line in her typical cheerful fashion, and thinking, "She's right, it is a beautiful day... it's the only one I've got." To a large extent, optimism and kindness are contagious, and Caroline Corley was certainly a carrier. Her cheerful, funny, friendly voice is sorely missed.

For a small sample of her distinctive voice and irreverent style, here is the late Ms Corley doing a movie recap:





The morning commute won't be the same.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Melancholy and Memorials

Yesterday, I put up a sad post about a friend of mine whose life was cut short by a senseless act of violence back in 1988. Feeling both a twinge of melancholy and a bit of 80's nostalgia, I have to note that today is the anniversary of Stuart Adamson's death by his own hand. Stuart was best known for being the lead singer of Scottish band Big Country, though his music career began with post-punk band The Skids. Big Country was largely considered a "one hit wonder" in the 'States, scoring a top-forty hit with the song In a Big Country, while knuckleheaded radio presenters made a big deal about how this Scottish band somehow made their guitars sound like bagpipes (I find the comparison somewhat strained), an effect achieved through the use of an effects pedal and, in many cases, an E-bow. For a stellar example of the use of the e-bow in an extended intro, I can think of no better song than The Storm, a song about the futility of vengeance:





Stuart was a true bleeding-heart humanitarian, fronting an interracial band and championing African famine relief, nuclear non-proliferation, and non-violence. There is remarkable footage of him stopping mid-concert to admonish individuals in the audience who were fighting:





In this intro to a 1988 performance of the heart-wrenching song about unrequited love Thirteen Valleys in Moscow, Stuart describes the song as being about someone who has to endure great trauma:





Stuart had a knack for ripping his ribcage open and showing the world what was written on his heart. His ability to convey emotion in his lyrics and his performances was second to nobody's. Sometimes, it seems as if certain people possess so much empathy, they take on the pain of the world, and this often leads them to "self-medicate". Stuart struggled with alcoholism for years, and took his life twelve years ago. One of Stuart's catch phrases, repeated in the the chorus of the song In a Big Country, "STAY ALIVE" has become a rallying cry for the fandom. While Stuart ultimately lost the will to carry on, his work has bolstered others in times of difficulty. In one moving but poorly spelled Youtube comment, one fellow gave perhaps the best memorial a songwriter could ever have:

Ironicaly - you're music is the reason I didn't do it. Shine on - SA RIP. An insperation to a generation.

The world always gets you in the end, don't help it achieve this... as long as you humanly can, STAY ALIVE!

I feel that I should post one more video here, the song Just a Shadow, the lyrics of which are as timely as they ever were:

I know there is no need for what's been done
I know there is enough for everyone
Frustration brings a heavy hand to bear
And there never is a hand outside that cares






You left the world too young, Stuart. Your wisdom and humanity were needed more than ever in the dark years after your loss.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

About the Son You Never Knew...

Back in 2011, I wrote a post which invoked the memory of my friend Ken Bissett. This weekend, I read that Ken's biological mother, who had sworn not to try to track him down, recently found out that her son had been killed in the bombing of Pan Am flight 103 back in 1988.

I went to high school with Ken, who was two years my senior. As I mentioned in my earlier post, Ken was a great guy- just the fact that he would associate with students two grades below him is an indicator that he wasn't a typical cliquish high schooler. He was an honors student with the academic bona fides to get into Cornell University, and his artistic skills earned him the moniker "Ken the Pen". Ken's "tags" on the stage crew locker were so inspired, neither the faculty nor subsequent production crews ever painted over them. Ken was a skinny high schooler, but he possessed an incongruously deep voice which would have made a radio announcer proud.

The last time I saw Ken alive was on a visit to my older brother at Cornell University. Ken, who lived in the same dorm, heard that I had been planning a visit, so he dropped by. He told me that he had jumped through hoops to get a transfer to Syracuse University so he could study abroad in England. In the course of our conversation about his upcoming semester, he was practically glowing with excitement.

Ken's funeral, the first time I "buried" a peer, was a surreal experience. I remember looking around at my friends, some of whom I hadn't seen since they graduated, and thinking about how bleak we all looked in our dark suits. The fact that it occurred during Christmas break, ordinarily a happy time of year, only compounded the bleak mood. Ken was an only child, his mother (I hadn't known that he had been adopted until that day) was disconsolate. We all "toughed" our way through the ceremony, but I could tell that it was the first big "mortality trip" we'd experienced.

I don't know if Carol King-Eckersley will ever read this blog post, but several "Raw Story" commenters have suggested that I try to get in touch with her. I think I will begin by e-mailing the BBC a letter of introduction. The fact that, with his death, two mothers (and a father) were robbed of their only child compounds the tragedy of the world's loss of Ken.

Mrs King-Eckersley, about the son you never knew... he was well-loved by his adoptive parents and well-liked by his peers. He was smart, talented, and good-natured- an all-around solid guy. Thank you for bringing him into the world, he made it a better place for those of us who knew him during his all too brief life.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

7.62mmoloch

It's a bit of a relief that the massive winter storm hitting the northeast has largely driven coverage of the first anniversary of the "Sandy Hook" massacre from the news. Even more thankfully, the bad weather seems to be keeping the trolls out of the Newtown, Connecticut area.

I took the news of the Sandy Hook horror pretty hard, spending a good portion of the weekend with little kids on a regular basis. That being said, I am weary of the pieties that always seem to characterize remembrance, while nothing is done to address the original problem. Forget the memorials in the cathedrals and churches, the deity most commonly worshiped in this country isn't the Gentle Nazarene. This country's gods are Mammon and Moloch. The servants of Mammon keeping raking in the profits resulting from the ongoing sacrifice of children to the 7.62mm Moloch.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Post Travel Cruddiness

After taking long plane rides I feel pretty crappy sometimes. This week, I have had some nasal congestion sneak up on me, and my throat has gotten pretty sore. Looking back through the archives, I see I haven't put up a neti pot post in a while.

Today, before heading off to work, I must have irrigated my sinuses five or six times with my handy dandy neti pot. After the first nasal irrigation, the gunk coming out of my nose looked positively lovecraftian.

Luckily, I am working alone tonight (with the exception of Fred and Ginger, so I brought the neti pot to work. When I get home, I'll probably mix myself a Manhattan before bundling up and turning in for the night.

Tomorrow, we had a nice low-key fundraiser set to take place, but it has been cancelled due to a winter storm warning. I can't say I'm upset- I would probably have pulled a switcheroo with my co-worker **REDACTED** if the event were still taking place. As it is, I'm scheduled to work an overnight, so it's almost fortuitous that I will be able to avoid traveling the roads in the teeth of the storm. Even better, I'll be able to pour torrents of water up my nose in privacy... it's not the sort of thing you want to do in front of anyone else.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Secret Science Club Post Lecture Recap: I Call It the Switzerland Particle

Last night, I headed down to the beautiful Bell House in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn for the latest Secret Science Club lecture, featuring Dr Ray Jayawardhana of the University of Toronto's astrophysics department. While Dr Jayawardhana specializes in the search for exoplanets, last night's lecture was on the topic of neutrinos, a topic he wrote about in his bookNeutrino Hunters. Before I start the recap, I have to get my little joke out of the way- neutrinos are a lot like Switzerland, small and neutral.

Dr Jayawardhana began his lecture, with a quip about the Higgs boson hogging the limelight (insert joke about Hoggs boson). He joked that the Higgs had done well for itself, even being dubbed (by non-physicists) the "God particle" in a good PR move. He then asked us to give neutrinos a chance. Dr Jayawardhana likened the "measly but magical" neutrinos to a "cosmic chameleon", indicating that they come in three flavors.

This introduction was followed by a history of the discovery of neutrinos, beginning with Henri Becquerel's discovery of radioactivity emitting from uranium. Becquerel's discovery of "radioactivity" was followed by by the work of Marie and Pierre Curie, who realized that radioactivity was not limited to uranium, but was a more common phenomenon. The first named types of radioactive "decay" were alpha decay, beta decay, and gamma radiation. Alpha decay involves the emission of two protons and two neutrons, a particle identical to the nucleus of a helium atom. Gamma radiation involves the emission of electromagnetic rays. In Beta decay, a neutron loses an electron and becomes a proton, losing energy in the process. In physics, what goes in must go out, and beta decay seemed to violate the Law of Conservation of Energy. Faced with this conundrum Neils Bohr considered giving up the Law of Conservation of Energy. Austrian physicist Wolfgang Pauli proposed (nine days after his divorce) a solution to the beta decay problem in a letter titled "Dear Radioactive Ladies and Gentlemen". His proposal was that there existed an undiscovered neutral particle (at the time, only protons and electrons were known)- jumping from two to three subatomic particles was a radical step. Pauli recognized the enormity of his proposal, writing, "I have done a terrible thing, I have proposed a particle that cannot be detected." He even bet a case of champagne that the particle would not be detected. The neutron was subsequently discovered by James Chadwick in 1932.

Italian physicist Enrico Fermi proposed the term "neutrino", a diminutive of neutron, to explain beta decay- a neutral particle with almost no mass (the neutron has mass) was needed to square beta decay with the Law of Conservation of Energy. While Fermi had a sound theoretical basis for the neutrino hypothesis, he had no observation of neutrinos. It wasn't until the fifties (World War 2 sidetracked the work of a lot of physicists) that neutrinos were detected by Frederick Reines and Clyde L. Cowan, Jr. Reines and Cowan realized that a nuclear explosion would release neutrinos, originally they wanted to detonate an atomic bomb on a tower to release neutrinos, then they decided that a bomb in a hole would be a better neutrino source. They eventually concluded that a nuclear reactor would serve the same purpose.

Raymond Davis, Jr proposed using underground detectors to find neutrinos emitted by the sun- detectors on the surface of the planet were stymied by too much "noise" from other sources, and the ground would act as a filter to reduce this background interference. Neutrinos rarely interact with other matter. With collaborator John Bahcall, Davis conducted the Homestake experiment. It was theorized that neutrinos interact with chlorine to produce argon, so a quantity of chlorine (basically, cleaning fluid) could be placed underground and the amount of argon could be measured and the number of neutrinos interacting with the chlorine could be extrapolated. For thirty years, neutrinos were "counted" one by one, and it was discovered that only a third of the expected neutrinos were detected.

Another major neutrino detector was built in Kamioka, Japan in order to solve the solar neutrino deficit problem, which is due to neutrino oscillation. Another major neutrino detector is located in a mine in Sudbury, Ontario, it is billed as the world's deepest physics lab.

Neutrinos come in three flavors (electron, muon and tau) which can change as a neutrino moves from the sun to the earth. Initially, only one flavor of neutrino was detected and the morphing of neutrinos, a hard to explain quantum level occurrence, was shocking to observers. Neutrino oscillation was first proposed by Italian physicist Bruno Pontecorvo. Neutrino oscillation depends on the medium through which the neutrinos pass.

Neutrinos are elusive, they are able to leave the "scene of the action" without interacting much with other matter. Dr Jayawardhana joked, "don't just stand there, let the neutrinos through". Trillions of neutrinos pass through our bodies harmlessly over the course of a lifetime. In 1987, with the discovery of Supernova 1987A, neutrinos from outside the solar system were detected. Because neutrinos rarely interact with other matter, they arrived three to four hours before the visible light from the supernova, they left the core of the dying star with no resistance. About two dozen neutrinos were detected from this source.

Dr Jayawardhana then went on to introduce the audience to the Ice Cube Neutrino Observatory, a one square kilometer lab in the Antarctic with eighty-six strings of detectors, with a total number of 5,160 optical sensors. The Ice Cube opened two years ago, and about two weeks ago the first results came in- twenty-eight neutrinos, the most energetic ones ever detected, were found. These neutrinos likely came from outside the solar system, emitted by supermassive black holes or massive stars that produce gamma ray bursts. This array of neutrino detectors has opened a new window on the universe.

A new experiment, dubbed KATRIN, to determine the mass of neutrinos is on tap in Germany. The transportation of the huge spectrometer central to this experiment is an epic in and of itself- this piece of equipment, constructed about 400 kilometers from its destination, was too big for local roads and canals, and had to undertake an oceanic journey of almost 9,000 kilometers.

Physicists are now trying to determine if neutrinos and anti-neutrinos interact with matter in similar ways- did neutrinos play a role in the ascendance of matter over anti-matter?

The talk concluded with the practical use of neutrinos- perhaps neutrino detection can play a role in discovering covert nuclear testing. Because neutrino oscillation is connected to the medium through which neutrinos pass, neutrinos could possibly be used to locate mineral or oil deposits. Some dreamers have even proposed using neutrinos in an attempt to communicate with extraterrestrial life (though I would be remiss if I didn't point out the pitfalls of such a scheme).


In the Q&A session, some bastard in the audience asked about the location of the Ice Cube lab- why Antarctica? Did this have something to due with the configuration of the earth's magnetic field? Dr Jayawardhana indicated that ice can sometimes capture neutrinos, and that the depth of the ice and the resultant pressure removes air bubbles which can affect detection. Bubble free ice is needed for best results.

Once again, the Secret Science Club dished up a fantastic lecture, and Dr Jayawardhana is a very engaging, charismatic fellow. I was able to talk with him briefly after the lecture and he is a nice, nice guy. Hopefully, he will return to Brooklyn to talk about the search for extrasolar planets, which is his main field of inquiry.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Bag's Back!

Yesterday, my luggage finally made it back to Casa Di Bastardo in the City of Y______ after its trans-Atlantic flight. Even the simple process of shipping my luggage was a bit complicated... my phone charger was in my bag, so my phone was basically a paperweight. To compound matters, my seven year-old Motorola cell phone (it was one of those industrial models, and could have been used to drive nails when it was in its prime) went tits up. Ironically, I was contemplating the new iPhone that the department had received on the job, thinking that it was kinda fragile looking, when I knocked my phone to the floor, which separated the display from the body of the phone. I hope that I can still download the pictures I took in Europe when I plug the phone into a USB port in my laptop.

At any rate, I had to stop by an AT&T store and secure a new phone, getting there as soon as the customer service rep opened up for the day. He initiated the transaction by asking me what my phone number was, and punching it into his computer system. When he saw the date on which I had purchased my phone, he began to laugh. He asked me if I had the phone on my person (probably just to see such a relic, maybe place it on a stone altar), but I did not. After some discussion of various contracts, I settled on (you got it) an iPhone... it was comparable in price to the Samsung Galaxy I was looking at and quite a bit smaller. Yeah, me with an iPhone- does this make me a hipster? I immediately bought a protective case for it, but will probably upgrade to a stouter "Otter Box" and bequeath the old case to the job.

I finally got home from my midnight shift after noon, and began to catch up on phone calls. I responded to a message from a gentleman who had called about my baggage, but it was the guy's day off- SORRY MAN! I then went to sleep and was awakened by the ring of an unfamiliar phone- mine. Another gentleman was calling to tell me that he had my bag and was ringing my doorbell. I informed him that he was probably ringing my neighbor's doorbell and told him that I'd meet him in twenty seconds. He was a really nice guy, with a cheerful demeanor, and he had my beautiful bag, with my beautiful bottle of grappa lying intact, wrapped in several T-shirts and stuffed into a plastic bag which was wrapped in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants. Needless to say, I am one happy bastard, having that beautiful bottle of booze sitting safely on the shelf. There's just one lingering element of unease in my mind... am I now a hipster?

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Bastard's Back! Subtitle: Tales of Bald Ulysses

Hi, everybody! I returned to my native soil last night after an arduous, circuitous flight home from Zurich. I left my brother's abode at approximately 7AM on December 6th. I arrived in the Zurich Flughafen after a short train ride, and checked in with no fanfare.

My problems began when I was sitting in the plane on the tarmac- due to weather conditions in Berlin, the flight was delayed for almost an hour. This was enough to cause me to miss my connecting flight to JFK by twenty-two minutes. Berlin being gripped in a heavy snowfall, a number of flights were cancelled or delayed... a delay would have been a boon to me! I had to wait in line for two hours before I spoke to an Airberlin customer service rep. He took one look at my itinerary and said, "I see your plane landed twenty-two minutes after boarding ceased. That's not nice!" While he offered me a hotel stay in Berlin, I was adamant about needing to get my ass to New York. He was able to put me on a British Airways flight to Heathrow, where I would transfer to an American Airlines flight to JFK. I feel bad about not getting the customer service rep's name, he really went out of his way to unfuck a clusterfuck. If any Airberlin public relations or marketing reps ever read this, give the tall slender guy with the medium-short dark hair who works in the Berlin airport a raise- he was really great about handling this difficult situation.

My scheduled arrival at JFK would be shifted from a nice 3PM to a less felicitous 11PM. Gahhh!!! A nice young fellow from Vienna was in the exact same situation as I was in, so we immediately clicked as fellow "Airberlin orphans".

When I got to Heathrow, I was singled out for extra security scrutiny, probably due to my bizarre itinerary. I bombarded the poor security agent who had to take my information with an extremely detailed account of my travel travails. "The flight to Heathrow was solely due to the efforts of Airberlin's agent in the Berlin airport. My intended itinerary was much simpler." I also received a patdown from a security agent who made me look like a junior petite. Everyone was very polite, and I have to say that this scrutiny was much preferable to ending up as a smear somewhere in the mid-Atlantic. Yeah, I'm not complaining.

The flight from Heathrow to JFK was in an oddly empty plane. I was offered a change of seat, but declined, because my fellow "Airberlin orphan" ended up in the same row, and we both hit it off with a young woman who was returning to New York from a conference in London. There's nothing like adversity to give you a sense of camaraderie.

The plane touched down at JFK at about 11PM, so I was able to breeze through immigration and customs. My Austrian friend got a grilling like I had at Heathrow, due to the complicated itinerary that eventually landed him in JFK. Needless to say, our luggage did not arrive with us, so we had to head over to the luggage office. Again, I have to comment that the baggage agent, a young woman, was extremely pleasant and professional. While I typically don't travel with anything I would miss, my phone charger and a really nice bottle of grappa are in that bag, which should be shipped to my house.

Getting home from JFK to the City of Y______ was time-consuming but easy- the JFK Airtrain takes one to the "E" train, which unfortunately doesn't run express at the time I was traveling. I had to transfer to the uptown "4" train to the Bronx. When I disembarked from the train, I did something I almost never do- I **gasp** took a cab home from the Woodlawn station. As anyone who knows me well will attest, this is a "less than once a year" occurrence. I finally got home at about a quarter to two in the morning. Oof!

So... that's my Odyssey, tales of Bald Ulysses indeed! Hey, that reminds me of the one Cream song that I consistently enjoy:





I figure I'll be writing posts about my vacation over the coming week. I didn't anticipate that the flight home would be enough fodder for a post.

UPDATE: All things considered, having read the news, I have to say that I am one lucky bastard.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Happy Birthday, Sweetums!

This year, I am fortunate to be able to celebrate my older brother Sweetums' birthday. Tonight is my last night in Europe, and a family celebration is the perfect way to cap off a European trip which has encompassed Thanksgiving and two birthdays. The trip has also encompassed two of the ancestral homelands of the family... it's been all about roots and relatives. Happy birthday, Sweetums, and thanks for the hospitality!

Tomorrow, Sweetums and I will head out, he to the office and I to the airport. I have a flight to JFK leaving in the ten o'clock hour. It's been a lovely time in the Old World, but reality will soon be hitting home.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Have Swimsuit, Will Travel

I make it a point never to travel without packing a swimsuit. As I have noted before, I could travel to the interior of Antarctica in the middle of the austral winter, and I'd still pack a swimsuit. Swimsuits don't take up too much space, and one never knows when one will be confronted with a body of water in which one can swim.

The last time I was in Switzerland, Sweetums and I jumped off the Wasserwerkstrasserücke into the lovely Limmat on a warm May day. The water in the river was still very cold, cold enough to "burn". I don't anticipate any impromptu dives off a bridge in December, but there is always the opportunity to check out some hot springs.

I don't often offer unsolicited advice, but seriously, folks, if you're going to travel, you must pack a swimsuit. Chances are, you'll use it.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Fourth Blogiversary

Wow, I started this blog four years ago, putting up a perfunctory introductory post on a quiet day on the job. I have traditionally written blogiversary posts, thanking my readers and commentariat.

This blogiversary post was composed back in November, before I flew out to Europe to visit two of my brothers. Compared to most blogiversary posts, it's pretty perfunctory. Suffice it to say, I wish to thank everybody for all of their friendship and support over the years.

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Vincenzo's Vincenza Birthday

As I have done since the beginning of my blogging endeavors, I am taking some time today to wish my brother Vincenzo a very happy birthday. I am pleased as Puncinello to say that I am actually able to celebrate Vin's birthday with him today. Of course, the Ramones' version of Happy Birthday would be entirely appropriate to post today:





Since my brother Sweetums and I are here in Italy with Vincenzo, there's an even more appropriate Ramones song to post, an old family favorite: We're a Happy Family:





We're a happy family,
We're a happy family,
We're a happy family,
Me, 'tums, and Vinnie!

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!

Hey, folks, here's wishing my stateside readers a happy Thanksgiving. I am spending Thanksgiving as it should be spent- hanging out with family and friends, enjoying each others' company and showing a little gratitude for good fortune.

In the back of my mind, though, there is a tiny, angry spark... I, like many others, am angry that some big box retailers are making their employees work on Thanksgiving. I have worked on Thanksgiving, but I am essential personnel at a worksite that needs a 24/7 presence. No retail shop needs to be open on the one single holiday that virtually every American celebrates.

Hopefully, there will be a backlash, and several smaller retail chains are criticizing their competitors for their uncaring policies. Seriously, everybody should just opt out of shopping on Thanksgiving. Americans need to recapture a modicum of community spirit- we need to be a nation of citizens, not consumers.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

A Little Country Music

I'm not a huge country music fan, but there are some numbers which I can't help but adore. One of my favorite country songs is Reginella Campagnola, the title of which can best be translated as "little country queen". The music to the song was composed by Eldo Di Lazzaro in 1939, and the original lyrics were written by Bruno Cherubini. The song is a celebration of the simple life of a country girl who travels with her donkey down through the golden, flowering valleys of Abruzzo to the city on a feast day, and then regales her friends with tales of what she's seen:





The chorus of the song, written while Italy was in the grip of a fascist regime, is a poignant one:


Oh campagnola bella tu sei la reginella
Negli occhi tuoi c’è il sole c’è il colore
Delle viole delle valli tutte in fior
Se canti, la tua voce
È un’armonia di pace
Che si diffonde e dice:
“Se vuoi vivere felice devi vivere quassù!”



Oh, beautiful country girl, you are the little queen.
In your eyes, there is the sun, the color
Of all the blooming violets of the valley.
If you sing, your voice is a harmony of peace
That rings out and says,
"If you want to live happily, you have to live up here!"



If only the country had been ruled by una reginella campagnola rather il Duce, the world would have been a happier place.


Di Lazzaro's music formed the basis of the harmless, goofy Woodpecker Song, which is inferior to the Italian original. Contrary to the proclamations of the Andrews Sisters, woodpeckers are not happy, though they can sometimes be placated with suet.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Arrivederci, Yonkers!

I am pleased to say that I will be celebrating Thanksgiving with two of my brothers in Europe. By the time this post pops up, I'll be departing from JFK airport on a flight to Venice's Aeroporto Marco Polo. My brother Vincenzo, who is stationed in Vicenza will be picking me up when I touch down tomorrow afternoon. My brother Sweetums will be taking the train down from Zurich on Thanksgiving day. Meanwhile, back in the states, my brother Gomez and my mom will be spending Thanksgiving in upstate New York with his in-laws, and my sister will be **GASP** taking her eldest on college tours in California. Yeah, we're a far-flung clan, though close-knit. Sadly, the last time everyone's been together was at our dad's funeral back in 2009.

On Sunday, I'll be traveling to Zurich with Sweetums, and I'll be flying back to JFK from Zurich the following Friday. Busy! Busy! Busy! Arrivederci, Yonkers!





Ci vediamo prossima settimana!

Monday, November 25, 2013

Gotta Break Out of This City

For the next week and a half, I'll be out of town, so I will schedule posts ahead of time. The posting will be lighter than usual, and the topics won't be so current. The next few days will be best described by the following Eddie and the Hot Rods lyric:


I'm gonna break out of the city
Leave the people here behind
Searching for adventure
It's the kind of life to find.






I will miss you all, don't break the internet while I'm away, and remember, friends don't let friends Zardoz.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Before the Reign of Tyrants

Christmas came early this year, with the discovery of a giant carnivorous dinosaur from the Cretaceous Period. Dubbed Siats meekerorum, the beast was a large allosaurid dinosaur. The Allosauroidea dominated the large predator niche for much of the Jurassic period and the early Cretaceous period. Siats is specifically a Neovenatorid allosaur. The Neovenatorids are currently considered a sister group with the Carcharodontosaurids, a allosauroid group which achieved staggering size in the southern hemisphere.

While much of the news coverage implies that Siats bullied or terrorized the early tyrannosaurs, I have to note that the tyrannosaurs eventually supplanted the allosauroids in North America in striking fashion. The tyrannosaurs belong to the coelurosaur clade, the coelurosaurs are best defined as theropod dinosaurs more closely related to birds than they are to carnosaurs such as the allosaurs (including Siats). Before the tyrannosaurids were recognized as coelurosaurs, most small carnivorous dinosaurs were lumped in with the coelurosaurs much as most large carnivores were lumped in with the carnosaurs, they were considered to have evolved from allosaurid ancestry. The tyrannosaur lineage started out as small, gracile carnivores such as Dilong paradoxis, a primitive, feathered tyrannosaur from the early Cretaceous.

Siats represents a late survival of the allosaurs, its discovery sheds a little light on a transitional period before the tyrannosaurs basically locked up the large predator niche in the late Cretaceous northern hemisphere. For a dinosaur nut like myself, this is most exciting news.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

First Snow of the Season

Tonight is a cold, windy night on the job. Earlier in the evening, the first snow of the season fell, accompanied by lightning... I didn't see any sprites, though.

As a person who spends a lot of time outdoors, I always keep one ear on the weather report. The key to surviving the cold is to dress in layers- cover your head and keep your "core" warm, and you'll do alright. I did have to buy an inexpensive pair of flannel lined gloves at the local hardware store, though. I always seem to lose right gloves, hence the inexpensive pair- I have a collection of left hand gloves that would make a Michael Jackson envious... actually, Google indicates that he wore a right hand glove, so maybe some crazed Michael Jackson fan with a Bedazzler is going nuts with my missing gloves (which kinda skeeves me out).

Friday, November 22, 2013

Memorials, Melancholy

This being the 50th anniversary of the assassination of JFK, the local radio stations had quite a bit of coverage of the event. The assassination being before my time, I have to say that the closest approximation I have to the "world shattering" emotions a lot of people have described has to be my emotions on the day when the space shuttle Challenger exploded after takeoff. Listening to callers describing the welter of emotions that they felt fifty years ago has been melancholy to say the least. Even the local music station I listen to featured songs relating to the tragedy.

I'm pretty much a Kennedy agnostic, being too young to have formed an intense personal reaction to the man himself. I recognize that he has been alternately canonized and demonized, and that the actual human is often lost in the hagiography. That being said, his civil rights address remains remarkable to this day:





Personally, a nerd like myself has to be a fan of Kennedy's moon speech, which combined optimism verging on bravado, and imagination backed by intellect:





To me, the one unpardonable sin that Kennedy committed was the escalation of the Vietnam conflict. For Kennedy, a man of Irish descent, to take up the mantle of failed colonialism should have been abhorrent. The fact that a Vietnamese independence movement, inspired by the Declaration of Independence, need not have been hostile to the United States just compounds the tragedy.

At any rate, I really don't have the time or inclination to give a longer opinion piece on the Kennedy legacy... the coverage in the media has been extensive enough. I merely wished to note the air of melancholy which has characterized the day. I am reminded of a quote by Daniel Patrick Moynihan, which is most appropriate for this day: "To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart." Judging from the reminiscences of people who vividly remember that day, everyone who idolized Kennedy was part Irish that day.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Secret Science Cinematics

Last night, I headed down to the beautiful Bell House in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn, for a presentation by the Secret Science Club. Last night's program involved the screening of two episodes of NOVA.

The first episode was At the Edge of Space, which detailed the efforts of a team of scientists to observe electrical phenomena known as sprites. The episode was a wonderful look into the day-to-day work of an international team of scientists, working from the International Space Station and from facilities on the ground. The episode was lent an air of poignancy as the scientists were working on a project that had been pursued by Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon, who was killed in the destruction of the space shuttle Columbia. This episode features breathtakingly beautiful footage of upper atmospheric phenomena.

The second episode was Asteroid: Doomsday or Payday? This episode dealt with the search of asteroids which have orbits which bring them in proximity to the Earth. An extended sequence depicted the detective work of Physicist Mark Boslough, who investigated the breakup of the Chelyabinsk meteorite pver Russia. Another asteroid "detective" who received star billing is Ed Lu of the B612 Foundation, which is developing a satellite which will be able to detect previously undetectable asteroids approaching the Earth from the direction of the sun. The episode also touched on potential efforts to defend the Earth from impact, including a hilarious scene of a very enthusiastic fellow with a very, very big gun. Finally, the economic potential of asteroid mining is discussed, with a particular focus on the water content of asteroids, and it's potential use in producing rocket fuel for further space exploration.

On another note, I think I have found my new favorite beer... Founders Breakfast Stout. This is a sweet stout with the merest hint of bitterness and a whopping 8.3% alcohol content. It comes highly recommended. Crack open a beer, load the videos, and get a taste of the Secret Science Club lifestyle!

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Testing Pee for Thee, Not Me!

From the intersection of the combined war on drugs and the poor, a Florida Republican who advocated drug testing for SNAP recipients was charged with cocaine possession. Representative Trey Radel did, however, vote on a bill which would eliminate mandatory minimum sentences and has spoken out against the war on drugs... yet he still wanted to subject indigent people to indignant treatment. Basically, he's not for the war on drugs unless it's waged against the poor.

Personally, I am for drug legalization, but I think that, until legalization occurs, every member of congress should have to undergo drug testing.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Jersey Joy

I am happy to report that, with the arrival of marriage equality to New Jersey, a friend and co-worker of mine, the manager of the gift shops at our sites, will be marrying his life partner today. Thirty years in a committed relationship, and finally they are able to wed. Here's a hearty high five, and a sincere wish for a long life of health and happiness to the married couple.

As an added bonus, my friend's assistant will be acting as his witness. When she told me that she would be acting in this capacity, she was positively beaming. The two of them have worked together for many years, and the wedding will be a lovely sequel to last month's punishing schedule.

Opponents to same sex marriage always talk in hyperbole and hypotheticals. They have no good reason for their opposition, only the bigoted dogmas of a minority of religious believers and distorted images of the concept of family. Marriage equality affects living human beings, and its arrival is long past due. The struggle for nationwide acceptance of same-sex marriages continues... New Jersey didn't achieve it without a battle.

The world can be a painful, sorrowful place- anything which helps people grab a chance at some joy and love is a good thing. This afternoon, my friend will be a married man, but he had to wait thirty years too long.

Félicitations, mon ami!

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Daylight in Downtown

Today, an errand took me to downtown Yonkers, a place I hadn't been in quite some time. I am happy to say that the daylighting of the Saw Mill River, so named because Adriaen van der Donck (the "jonkheer" for whom Yonkers is named) built a sawmill near the mouth of the river, looks to be a major success. The river was directed through a flume and covered by a parking lot in the 1920s, in an effort to manage sanitation and control flooding (though a lot of anti-flooding engineering projects actually compound flooding problems). The resulting parking lot was an eyesore, and the downtown area became less-than-desirable real estate.

The "daylighted" river forms the centerpiece of the charming new Van Der Donck Park. For a good encapsulation of the transition from grotty parking lot to sweet downtown park, this video shows in three and a half minutes everything you need to know.

Here's the view of the river upstream from the footbridge which spans it:



Here's the view downstream, with the Yonkers Metro North station in the background. The river runs back into a "flume", visible on the right hand side, and flows under the Metro North Hudson line tracks:




It remains to be seen if the "daylighting" of the river will have a lasting economic impact on Yonkers'downtown. I sure hope that it does. Downtown has some lovely attractions, including the Riverfront Library, the pier, and Phillipse Manor Hall. Already, the project has brought new residents to the downtown area.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Haiyan Horror

Looking at the photos of the aftermath of the deadly Typhoon Haiyan has me heartsick. Relief efforts are stymied by less-than-optimal logistics and damaged infrastructure- I live in one of the wealthiest sections of the wealthiest nation on earth, and I experienced firsthand the challenges that a terrific storm can pose. I shudder to think of the conditions in Tacloban.

The arrival of the U.S. Navy, with its unequaled ability to move matériel, will be a game-changer. Simply having 21 helicopters that can transport emergency supplies to remote areas will improve the prospects for a lot of Tacloban residents. This has to be the most welcome arrival of the U.S. military since MacArthur swore to return to Leyte, the very region ravaged by Haiyan.

Hopefully, the aid that the U.S. is sending to the Philippines won't come with too many strings attached... the Filipino government refused a request for a greater U.S. military presence in the country due to fears of undermined sovereignty. This could very well change if the U.S. government decides to play hardball.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

The Hills are Alive, With the Sound of Healing!

A four month study demonstrated that Alzheimer's patients can benefit from group singing sessions. Singing the familiar songs from the musicals of their youth can help patients perform on cognitive tests. As a therapeutic measure, it is inexpensive and doesn't have any contraindications, except among patients who hate The Sound of Music.


How do you solve a problem like dementia?
How do you take a brain and make it young?
How do you make it hum, and sound as a new snare drum?
Letting your brain recall the songs you've sung!

Oh, how do you solve a problem like dementia?
Open your mouth and loosen up your tongue!



When I'm an old geezer, confined to a home, will the nursing staff play the lilting airs of my youth? Could Psychotherapy be used as, you know, psychotherapy?


Monday, November 11, 2013

Veterans' Day 2013

Today being Veterans' Day, I have to note that there is some good news in New York State for veterans- a measure was passed giving additional credits on civil service exams to disabled veterans. On a downer of a note, the unemployment rate among veterans is all too high. On another horrid note, military survivors of sexual assault often find trouble when they seek disability benefits while a bill which would reform the handling of sexual assaults in the military may face a filibuster.

In the midst of all the parades, platitudes and pablum offered up on Veterans' Day, it must be remembered that veterans face many challenges, while their needs aren't met. The veterans aren't cartoon heroes or cardboard cutouts to be trundled out for photo ops- they are parents, spouses, siblings, children... humans who face genuine problems which are being ignored by those who should be serving them. It's time for this callous attitude to change.

How about a melancholy song about a disabled Irish veteran of the English war of imperialism in Ceylon? You'll recognize the tune of the song, which was "repurposed" into a triumphant Union fight song during the American Civil War:





Perhaps the best known version of the song was that performed by the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem... here's a version of it introduced by an American narrator who just doesn't get the point of the song:





Sunday, November 10, 2013

Reminds Me of a Devo Song...

Am I the only one to see the irony in a satellite designed to map the Earth's gravity field succumbing to the Earth's gravity? At any rate, a one ton thing is going to break up and start raining down on the planet. Tales of the firey re-entry of satellites have been captivating the public imagination since the 1970s, when Skylab's remains fell down on a small town in Australia, netting the United States' government a littering fine.

Of course, the impending fall of this satellite reminds me of one of my favorite Devo songs:





For Muzak aficianados, there's an easy listening version, which sounds like the soundtrack for a very outré Nintendo game.

Be safe, people, keep an eye on the sky!

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Another Bastard Favorite Gone

Today is a sad day in Bastardland, I heard the news that Charlie Chesterman of Scruffy the Cat succumbed to cancer. Scruffy the Cat. a Bastard favorite was alt-country before alt-country was cool. Charlie himself had a distinctive voice, alternately droll and lugubrious, joking and earnest... sometimes in the course of one song.

Here's footage of Charlie fronting a reformed Scruffy the Cat in 2011, at a concert to raise funds for his cancer treatment. The sound quality isn't the greatest, but you can get a taste of Charlie's unmistakable voice:





Here's a younger Charlie Chesterman singing a slow number about unrequited love:





Here's Charlie showcasing his ability to warble on a cover of Del Shannon's Runaway:





For some really great live links, check out the blog of another big fan of Charlie... this live recording session at Boston's WERS, dating back to 1986, is a particularly good introduction to this legendary live pub/college hall band.

By all accounts, Charlie was a genuinely nice guy and loved to interact with his fans. My older brother, Sweetums, met him after a gig in a pub and had a good conversation with him. We lost one of the best when Charlie passed.

Friday, November 8, 2013

The Fever Swamp Doesn't Seem so Deep

The news that Rand Paul got a gig with Breitbart's organization after the Moony Times cast him loose because of repeated instances of plagiarism made me nostalgic for some of the hilarious conspiracy-theorizing that the right-wing engaged in when Carroll O'Connor's evil doppelgänger kicked the bucket. The sheer lunacy of those paranoid comments inspired me to check out Free Republic, one of the worst fever-swamps of the American right.

I was a bit taken aback when I checked out the site, which often featured thousand-post comment threads. The most recent threads didn't break double digits, and many of them had less than ten comments. Apparently, the moderators at the site conduct purges (recounted more fully at this right-wing site). The purging of insufficiently right-wing members of the commentariat was common enough so that the community had it's own term for a banning. A look at the site's web traffic revealed a precipitous drop in late 2012 (I wonder why?) and in early 2013... it seems to be clawing its way back up to a decent traffic level, but the spirit of the community seems to be diminished.

Happily, I found the site Freeper Madness, so I don't have to actually check out Free Republic to get a dose of right-wing lunacy. Yeah, I can give my traffic to a great site, not one of the worst sites out there.


Bonus Content: Heart Attack Equals Dart Attack


In the course of putting this post together, I found a thing of genuine beauty... there is a Freeper named "Butterdezillion" who is obsessed with the idea that poison "heart attack" darts will be commonly used to assassinate Obama's enemies. This shit is pure comedy gold:

Target: Joe Arpaio:

They wouldn’t want to make it look TOO “natural” because then it wouldn’t have the intimidation effect. A heart attack dart doesn’t convert into the right amount of scare if it’s on somebody who would be expected to have a heart attack. It only works on people like Breitbart, Stephanie Tubbs, Kam Kuwata, etc.

Target: Andrew Breitbart:

There’s a potassium chloride dart that can cause a heart attack within seconds, leaving nothing detectable in an autopsy so the only evidence left behind is a small red entry hole that’s sort of like a bug bite, which is what the victim would think had happened (in those last few seconds of life).

From what was in the autopsy report for Breitbart, the coroner did not check for an entry hole like that.

It gets even better, as she theorizes about the nature of these poison darts:

The dart is made of a substance that melts when it penetrates the skin.

What do you know about potassium chloride?

As an editorial note, this was a plot feature in a Get Smart episode, sorry about the spoiler.

She goes on about Breitbart's death by dart:

Presumably you would use the same epistemology for the Breitbart death - wouldn’t rule out a Soros-related assassination just as I wouldn’t assume it had to be a Soros-related assassination. The evidence would be the deciding factor, and following all the evidence.

A critical piece of evidence would be whether there was or wasn’t a small round hole where a dart could have entered the body. Why do you think the coroner said nothing about checking for that potential piece of evidence? If he had, that could have potentially been ruled out as a means of death. That would have been very useful to both of us, no?

And on:

Lying requires a complicit coroner, even before he knew he needed to be complicit. And that’s often what ruins a “perfect crime”. It’s the same thing that ruined Obama’s documentation crimes.

You (or somebody, can’t remember who) talked about it being useless to do anything if a murder can be passed off as a heart attack or something else. But there are give-aways besides the autopsy. Without having even checked the body for the only evidence of an assassination, the coroner can say it was a natural death but the question is really still wide open - unless and until the coroner knows that there was no dart entry hole. There are other deaths that are STILL up in the air because nobody would allow the body to be examined for the telltale evidence.

On another thread:

I wonder if his tweets, calls, or other communications would show what he was doing.

Somebody asked who called 911. That could also be interesting. Somebody close enough to see that he fell down would also be close enough to shoot him with a poison dart, and they’d want a witness to what happened so the cops wouldn’t be called in as if there was foul play...

It gets even better:

I wonder how thick cloth has to be to repel those darts. Anybody know? Seems like somebody would have to know where you were at, maybe follow you with a cooler to keep the poison frozen until you were outside and in range. I wonder what the range is.

I wonder if the cancer-causing stuff has to be frozen, and if one injection does the job. I also wonder if there’s a particular form of cancer that they favor. Probably something that is typically fast-acting and has no obvious presenting symptoms that would clue the person in to get tested and treated. Something like ovarian cancer, for women. What’s similar for men?

Also makes me wonder if the same technology could be used to get a manufactured bio-warfare germ into the public - make it look like it came from a mosquito maybe...

Butterdezillion is the star of her very own political thriller:

I am a person Obama could potentially want dead. I am working with the Cold Case Posse.

Anytime I go to the doctor Obama’s regime can see what the doctor finds out about me. If they wanted to assassinate me they could match the medical assassination so that it fits my records perfectly. They know my family history, know what tests I’ve had done, etc. They know what I’m afraid of getting. They are able to make me get it. Nobody would ever know.

Don't ask for whom the dart... uhhh... darts... it darts for thee:

The Breitbart death indicated to me that they know they have to have plausible deniability. They have to attack people medically. Makes it real handy that they are setting up a national database of medical records that are to be accessible to the bureaucrats in government. They can see whether I have a history of heart disease. I don’t - in fact, I was tested multiple times and have been told my heart is healthy as a horse - so they can’t use a heart attack dart on me. They’d have to use something slower-acting for me...

Wow, this trip down the Freeper rabbit hole sure has been entertaining, Andrew Breitbart is still dead, and I am grateful to have found Butterdezillion's "poison dart" comments, which are pure comedy gold. I wonder if William Gibson can sue for plagiarism (though "Butter" didn't actually type out "They said she cooked her own cancers for people who crossed her, rococo custom variations that took years to kill you."). Of course, the plagiarism issue brings us full circle to Rand Paul, who, in spite of his thieving ways, got a gig with Big Dead Breitbart. Hopefully, that thing on his head is thick enough to repel poison darts.

Cross posted at Rumproast.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Jerkwad Jihad

Consider, if you will, the career of one Jonah Goldberg, a lumpen lout guaranteed a lifetime wingnut welfare sinecure by virtue of his relation to the woman who almost brought down the Big Dog back in the 90s. Jonah has had his status as a public idtellectual thrust upon him, and no matter how many of his bulk bought "bestsellers" moulder in warehouses at Cato Headquarters, he comes across as a guy who'd rather loaf around on the couch watching bad 80's teen comedies on Blu-Ray while mainlining Cheetos. Hell, he even referenced the movie Meatballs in a recent column in the right's most "prestigious" publication. While his "thug with a thesaurus" predecessor William F. Buckley, could at least fake erudition, Goldberg is more comfortable making allusions to bad movies than he is conducting actual research... or even relating anecdotes from his real life.

Even when Jonah references a book, it's often a work of genre fiction. In one unfortunate column from 2011, Jonah referred to Frank Herbert's epic sci-fi "Dune" series. In his column, Jonah refers to an anti-computer "jihad" that features in the back-story to Frank Herbert's novels. He then decides that an anti-TSA "jihad" is in order:


The backdrop of my favorite science-fiction novels, Frank Herbert’s Dune series, is something called the Butlerian Jihad. Some 10,000 years before the main events of the story take place, humanity rebelled against “thinking machines” — intelligent computers — controlling people’s lives. The revolution was sparked because a computer decided to kill, without the consent of any human authority, the baby of a woman named Jehanne Butler.

I bring this up because I’m wondering why we can’t have a Reppertian Jihad. Its namesake would be Lena Reppert, a 105-pound, 95-year-old Florida woman. Her daughter claims Reppert was forced by airport security to remove her adult diaper in compliance with a body search. Reppert is dying of leukemia. She did not have another clean diaper for her trip.



He then makes the outrageous assertion that TSA employees are acting in "the likeness of a machine":


And that’s what brought to mind Dune’s Butlerian Jihad. The holy war against machines was also a war against a mindset. “The target of the jihad was a machine-attitude as much as the machines,” a character explains. “Humans had set those machines to usurp our sense of beauty, our necessary selfdom out of which we make living judgments.” In the aftermath, a new commandment was promulgated: “Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind.”

It seems the first commandment of the TSA is that every mind must be trained in the likeness of a machine. “Garbage in, garbage out,” is how computer programmers explain the way bad inputs determine bad outputs. Likewise, if TSA workers are programmed not to use common sense or discretion — surprise! — TSA workers won’t use common sense or discretion.



Dehumanization of one's political foes is a prerequisite for political violence. While Mr Goldberg would assert that he was not calling for the murder of TSA agents, his callous characterization of them as "programmed" like machines belies any protestations. Goldberg's article has to be viewed in the context of a long campaign to demonize the TSA by right-wingers. A quick Google search reveals that much of the right-wing rage against the TSA is couched in racial terms, with many conservatives believing that the largely minority TSA staff are using their authority to "punish" white people.

Now, with the murder of TSA agent Gerardo Hernandez, Jonah Goldberg has finally gotten his "jihad". Agent Hernandez, though, was no machine- he was a civil servant, a husband, a father of two. I imagine that the "National Review Online" will get around to shoving this column down the memory hole, and that Jonah Goldberg will pretend that it never existed. Being a right-winger means never having to say you're sorry, not even to the widow or the orphans.

Cross posted at Rumproast.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Just Returned from Voting

Luckily for me, I live right across the street from my polling place, which is well-staffed and has sufficient voting machines, so that voting is an absolute pleasure (in addition, a friend of mine works at the polling site). The local elections have been totally upstaged by the election happening three blocks south of my place. The one election I of interest I voted in was for the County Executive. Current County Exec Rob Astorino is a conservative who got in in the bad year of 2010.

More importantly, there were a bunch of ballot initiatives this year, including a bad one which would expand mining in the Adirondack State Park, a good one which would give disabled veterans a credit on civil service exams, one which would expand casino gambling (I live within walking distance of a big casino, I don't want competition to render the place a dilapidated husk), one which would raise the retirement age for judges to 80, one which would ease an Adirondack land swap, one which would keep sewage upgrade costs off of municipal debt limits, and a proposal for city redistricting.

I'll leave it up to the readers' imaginations to figure out how I voted (it's not too hard). Since I'm working the graveyard shift now, I'll be turning in shortly rather than following the more interesting elections elsewhere... this will save me a lot on my popcorn budget.