Dignified and Old

It's the face on the homepage that's haunting me today- the cherubic face framed by dark, lustrous hair, given a hint of mischievousness by a slight, Mona Lisesque smile... The coverage of the suicide of South Hadley, Massachusetts teen Phoebe Prince indicates that she had been the subject of a cruel bullying campaign on the part of her classmates. Most of the ink and electrons spell out the story of a hounded young woman, and pose questions regarding the presence, knowledge, and activities of the adults who were in positions to address the bullying. I would simply add an exhortation to all adults to constantly harp on the fact that death is final- a suicide is irrevocable, and young people have to navigate perilous waters at best, what with automobile accidents, violent attacks, and illness. Where there's life, there's hope, and this young woman, whose situation seemed so hopeless to her, should have been told that the tumult in which she had been ensnared could have been left behind, that the cruel cliques of high school would seem inconsequential once she had graduated, and moved out of the small, scummy pond of her hometown high school. I lost high school friends to car accidents, to cancer, and to the Pan Am Flight 103 bombing- death is all-pervasive, it gets us all in the end, it gets some of us entirely too young, there's no need to help it.

Jonathan Richman perhaps put it best, with all his goofy-earnestness, in his song Dignified and Old, recorded with the Modern Lovers. Hey, kids, don't die, the deck is stacked against you, but don't just throw in your hand:

Disaster, or Opportunity?

A study of adult grasshopper populations in several midwestern states has led to a forecast of a plague of locusts this coming summer. Costs of millions of dollars are projected by the states which will likely be affected. Having dabbled in entomophagy at times, I have come to the conclusion that this onslaught of grasshoppers may be a boon... if only a fast-food chain would hop on the chapulines bandwagon. Maybe local megachurches can do their part to stave off the entomological menace by holding locust and wild honey suppers.

As they say, when life hands you a lemon plague of locusts, make lemonade fried locusts.

It's Saturday Night, Think I'll Post a Video

Given the ugly turn taken by the teatards since the HCR vote, I figured I'd post a video by The Jam. The Jam, fronted by Paul Weller, released their first single, In the City in 1977- the height of the Punk-era in the UK. The band, which wore it's "Mod" influence on its collective sleeve, was characterized by narrative songs reflecting the current social trends. The 1978 B-side A-Bomb in Wardour Street (the A-side was a cover of the Kinks' David Watts) describes the violence which plagued British society in the late 70's:





The song doesn't paint a hopeful picture, and was followed by the brilliant Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, a harrowing tale of a subway mugging (if this isn't in the running for "saddest song EVER" status, I don't know what is). The eponymous protagonist of 1979's Smithers-Jones gets off rather easily, merely being laid off by his "suntanned boss". It's not all doom-and-gloom, however, even if the tone is generally pessimistic- there is some small hope for escape... Going Underground, if you will.

Note: Going Underground is one of those awesome songs which makes me feel well-nigh unstoppable. Yeah, it's pretty pessimistic, but the sheer force of the song is amazing.

Some Needed Downtime

Being thouroughly disgusted by the national mood of this past week, I decided to tune out the media yesterday and to engage in some salubrious activity. The day being warm (for me, "shorts weather" starts in March, and ends in November), I took a trip to Lenoir Preserve in northwestern Yonkers. The preserve, formerly the grounds of two estates (the websites don't mention the names of the estate owners), is adjacent to the Old Croton Aqueduct trail. The preserve and trail overlook the Hudson River- the Palisades of New Jersey forming a dramatic backdrop to the river itself.

My usual M.O. at Lenoire Preserve is to check out bird feeders by the visitors' center, then walk through the gardens to a path which leads down to the aqueduct trail. It was too early for lepidopteran visitors to the butterfly garden, but the birds were in profusion. Besides the usually American robins and mourning doves, I would periodically spy the dramatic flash of the white rump of a startled flicker. The path to the aqueduct trail starts at a terraced garden area, and plunges down a wooded hillside.

Wouldn't you interpret this archway as an invitation to adventure?





Up closer, the crossed boughs glimpsed through the archway seem to warn one away:





After the scramble down the hillside, and a walk down the aqueduct trail, one can see some ruins, the remnants of a villa on the outskirts of the ancient, storied city of Herculaneum Yonkers:





South of Odell Avenue, where one can spy a bit of sculpture which reminds me of the monument in Lucerne... IONQUERSIORUM FIDEI AC VIRTUTI:





Of course, after my immersion in beauty, stillness, and peace, after my walk I made the mistake of turning on the car radio...

This is a Public Service Announcement*

Uh, unless you have a LOT of time to fritter away, you should probably avoid the TV Tropes wiki...

*

Update: The tagline for TV Tropes should be "We are aware of all narrative traditions."

Sleeping Giant Wakes to Awful Surprise

Last year, the narrative concerning the Teabaggers commonly alluded to the deluded as a sleeping giant, newly awakened by the prospects of Obamacare (isn't it awesome how healthcare reform is now inextricably linked to the President? Talk about scoring an "own goal"). Well, in folklore, giants are usually portrayed as vicious and none-too-bright:





I know, technically Saturn is a Titan, but SHUT UP, THIS IS CENTRAL TO MY POINT!!!


Where was I? Oh yeah, giants are typically vicious and none-too-bright:





Well, luckily, giants tend to be laid low easily by a well-placed blow from a hammer:




Inspired by the Sadlynaughts. I hadn't included them in my blogroll, thinking that a Big Bad Bald Bastard small fish such as myself couldn't drive traffic to their site, but I owe them a debt of gratitude, because the S,N! community inspired me to start this endeavor.

Hard to Post Today...

There's been so much going on in the news lately, what the hell does one write about? Personally, I have been relishing the fact that the mask has been torn off the "Tea Party" movement, and even the mainstream media is acknowledging the racism and resentment behind this overblown phenomenon. Sitting here in my safe Northeastern home (yeah, I've linked to it again- it's axiomatic that this song can NOT be linked to enough*) there's a lot of amusement to be had making fun of incoherent, apoplectic right-wingers who are advocating armed resistance (though I sincerely hope that the Secret Service and FBI are taking these pronouncements seriously).

In the interests of brevity and a quick return to snark central, I'll just propose an alternate headline for this story: "Australopithecines Attack Homo".


*Heh- I've been to the place where every white face is an invitation to 'Baggery.