An Ongoing Solution

Back in the mid-'70s, the avant garde of rock music was Ohio, and one of the most interesting Ohio bands of the era was Pere Ubu, a sonically challenging band which formed out of the breakup of legendary proto-punk band Rocket from the Tombs. Early on, the band facetiously described their musical style as avant-garage. One of Pere Ubu's most celebrated early singles was ode to teenage alienation Final Solution, a song which the band refrained from playing live for years because of the association of the title phrase with Nazism.


The song's first incarnation was a spare, edgy version performed by Rocket from the Tombs:





The original Pere Ubu single version had a richer sound, a slow tempo number which still achieves a nice burn:





Recently, a reconstituted Rocket from the Tombs has toured, performing a version of the song which, to my ears, has a plaintiveness substituting for the angst of the original version:





Covers of the song have popped up from time-to-time, with Peter Murphy, frontman of Bauhaus releasing a version as his debut solo single:





Yesterday, I found a smoldering cover of the song by Living Colour, which inspired this post:





For a song originally recorded by a bunch of young Midwestern weirdos, it sure has legs.

Happy Birthday, Baby Brother!

Here's wishing my baby brother, Gomez, a very happy birthday. As far as baby brother's go, Gomez is a pretty diesel specimen. He was a highly ranked boxer in the Army Brigade Open matches and he still plays hockey on a regular basis (recently getting his referee certification so he can increase his ice time).

Happy birthday, Gomez!

Domestic Dürer Dead

This week saw the passing of David A. Trampier, an artist whose work always reminded me of the woodcuts of Albrecht Dürer and Gustave Doré. Trampier's black and white line work was obsessively detailed and richly conveyed light and texture. He was also co-designer of the board game Titan. Trampier's world was one of hard-bitten, opportunistic adventurers (including seeming self-inserts, like the bearded chap here):

And sophisticated monsters:

Note the shoutout to wacky boardgame Snit Smashing in the lower right-hand corner...


And the perils of living in a world in which you're not necessarily on the top of the food chain:

Dave Trampier was also a gifted comic artist, whose Wormy comic portrayed the everyday lives of monsters in a sympathetic light (Eskov's The Last Ringbearer mines similar territory). The monsters is Wormy, aside from the eponymous, conniving game-hustler dragon, were working stiffs, just trying to live their lives in peace, for the most part. "Tramp" was able to portray his "other" characters with genuine pathos- one of my particular favorite sequences has his most sympathetic characters going from sorrow to relief (and comic relief) in the space of a few panels. One of his most beautiful pieces is the coda to this sequence, in which his intrepid duo makes their triumphant arrival in Toadtown:

In the mid-80s, Tramp gave up his art career, even leaving his checks uncashed (it's commonly thought that he felt that he was screwed over by his employer. About fifteen years later, he was featured in a newspaper profile of late-night taxi drivers in Carbondale, Illinois. After being located, he was courted by fans but declined all overtures and offers of work. In one of life's tragic ironies, he may have been planning a return to the art and gaming communities in the months before his passing.

RIP, DAT! It's a pity to have lost you twice. Your intricate art fired the imaginations of legions of fans... it's a pity that the majority of us were too young to shower you with financial success to equal our esteem for your work.

YA Romantic Fiction

Via Roy's place, we have an account of Libertarian Fonzie (catchphrase "Ayyyyy is Ayyyyy!") pinning his hopes for a Rand Paul presidency on a popular Young Adult fiction series and its movie adaptation. After typical "don't call me a Republican hack, A POX ON BOTH HOUSES!" Libertarian boilerplate, Gillespie gushes about his dreamy Randian protagonist:


Whether or not the Kentucky Republican actually wins the Republican nomination, much less the White House, is besides the point. The question is whether the politics of the future will be the same as the politics of the present. “I don't want to be just one thing,” explains one of the protagonists in Divergent. “I can't be. I want to be brave, and I want to be selfless, intelligent, and honest and kind.” If anything explains Rand Paul’s rising profile, it’s precisely his ability to be more than just one thing—a social conservative, a civil libertarian, a budget cutter, a decentralizer, and more. There’s no reason to fear— and every reason to promote—such divergence in our elected representatives.


Rand Paul is a decentralizer? I must have missed all the antitrust legislation that he introduced since attaining his senate position. Oh, well, I'm sure that young female voters will eventually see that Rand Paul and his political supporters have plans for their demographic.

Back on Planet Earth, I have to note that Mr Gillespie is headed for a heartbreak if he believes that the popularity of a Young Adult fiction series will have any bearing when it comes to wooing millennials in the 2016 election... Even though the "Twilight" books were wildly popular, young voters didn't throw their support behind a sparkly Mormon vampire in 2012.

This post is expanded from a comment I left at Roy's place. In response, commenter mds wrote:

Maybe if there had been some actual sparkle.

The vampirism sure as hell was real, though.

Cross-posted at Rumproast.

Scary Selfie

Last night, I took a most unusual self portrait:

Yeah, that's me alright... anybody got any idea what the hell's going on?

***SPOILER FOLLOWS***

We have a couple of powerful flashlights on the job (one is a 1.5 million candlepower rechargeable spotlight that became a particular favorite of one of my co-workers after I demonstrated it to him... he'd so much as see a car in the parking lot after dark and he'd shine that monster on the occupants and they'd leave PRONTO- yeah, I created a monster). Our newest flashlight, powered by two C-cells, was dropped by one of the guys in the department, so the button for the switch popped off. To turn the thing on or off, one has to use a pen or a key, or what-have-you to hit the switch. Last night, I kept the light on (we're using rechargeable batteries at this time, so it's not that much of a waste), but slipped the thing up my sleeve when I wanted a little darkness. The light is powerful enough that it was able to render my hand translucent... making me look like some kind of creepy horror out of "Warcraft".

Looks Like We've Found Yuggoth!

Here's some exciting news on the astronomical front- the discovery of another dwarf planet in the outer reaches of the solar system hints at a larger planet that effects its orbit gravitationally:


Though exciting in its own right, the discovery raises a more tantalising prospect for many astronomers: that a “Super Earth” up to 10 times the mass of our planet orbits the sun at such a great distance that it has never been seen


Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we may have found evidence of the existence of Yuggoth. Pretty soon, nobody will have to leave their body behind to visit this mysterious planet... provided NASA can get funded properly. It's bad enough to have to outsource space flights to the Russians, but it sure beats outsourcing space travel to Mi-go!

In honor of the happy discovery of Yuggoth, I feel an urge to indulge in my taste for poetry:





I predict that Yuggoth is going to become very hip all of a sudden... how soon before a "Ghooric Zone Diet" is in the works?

Jocular Jehovites

Today, for the first time in years, a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses came to my door. For the record, the last time the Witnesses rang my bell, I took one look at the primly dressed elderly ladies and said, "Usually, the agency sends the same two strippers, but you two will do just fine." It's been a while since they've been back (I'll let you imagine how the last encountered panned out, you dirty dogs).

Today, two pleasant women in their late forties were waiting outside when I opened the door. One of them handed me a flyer about an upcoming commemoration of Christ's death and said, "We hope you can come."

Me being me, I responded, "Will there be beer?"

"It's not that sort of event."

"I guess I'll bring my own."

This led to a light-hearted discussion about how the Egyptians and Sumerians both brewed and consumed copious amounts of beer, and how the first miracle attributed to Christ in the New Testament was the whole changing water into wine at the wedding feat at Cana. We had a good chuckle and they departed with mutual well wishes...

Could it be that they were really Jovial Witnesses? I could be down with a denomination like that.