Looking Forward at 2022

I figured that I'd write a post which, with yesterdays post, 'bookends' the transition from 2021 to 2022.  I'm not going to sugarcoat things, 2021 was almost as bad as 2020, and in some ways was even more baffling and enraging, because there was an interval in which things looked like they were improving, and that we might see an end to the two year crisis which has gripped the planet (of course, there's also the two hundred year crisis which doesn't seem to be improving).

2022 has started off in an inauspicious fashion.  I currently have five close friends dealing with (thankfully, mild) cases of COVID (I decided to drop the '-19', because it's now three calendar years on).  One of my two subordinates at work has been exposed, and is in quarantine, so I don't know when I'll be able to take a day off.  Hell, I'm not even looking forward to a day off... with the omicron variant riding roughshod over the NYC metro area, I have no desire to be anywhere besides my home and my workplace.

I'm not one for making New Year's resolutions, they tend to be vague and hard to stick to.  The last time I made a resolution was about fifteen years ago, when I did something extremely specific (do 100 pushups every weekday) and easy to stick to.  This year, with so much uncertainty, what resolution can one make?  I can resolve to survive the year, as Anathema Device suggested in a comment on yesterday's post, but even that's not a sure deal in these Plague Years.

I suppose I could make vague plans to better myself a bit, to shake off the lethargy of the last two years, to try to rekindle my empathy for those I have contempt for... those are more like aspirations than resolutions, though.  I could cut down on my 'doomsurfing', but all surfing is doomsurfing these days.  Also, 2022 is going to be an eventful year, and the rise of a nascent fascist cult that might sweep the GOP primaries has to be monitored.

I have some small kernel of optimism- while I'm not sure that omicron is really as non-lethal as some studies suggest, I hope that an early wave will result in enough people having antibodies so that the current wave subsides, and the pandemic COVID becomes endemic COVID.  In perhaps a streak of naivete, I'm hoping that the military's  new all-in-one COVID vaccine is acceptable to anti-vaxxers, who tend to lionize the military, even though they also think it's capable of villainy, and not just the mundane villainy we are all aware of (that they tend to make excuses for).  Hopefully, an orally administered inoculation could even mollify the needle-averse.

Despite that small kernel of optimism, I believe that the first half of the year is going to be terrible from a public health standpoint, and the second half of the year is going to be terrible from a political standpoint.  Still, I have to note that I've been susceptible to dooming, and that just about 70% of Americans have received at least one dose of vaccine, and that sane voters outnumber whackos by millions (though voter suppression and gerrymandering will be major problems this year).  

Maybe my resolution should be to ease back on being excessively online.  Hell, I have a pretty cat to feed, and a picturesque campus to wander.  There will be time for doom-and-gloom later.  Happy New Year, folks!

Looking Back on 2021

I'm not going to sugarcoat things, but 2021 was a bad year, a sort of continuation of the bad year 2020.  While there were similarities between the two years, during 2021 I never experienced the strange time dilation of Spring 2020, when the days and weeks dragged on interminably, while the months flew by.  The only times I forgot what day it was this year were during the two-month stretch when I had no days off from work due to a coworker's illness.

The cruel joke of 2021 was that there was a brief respite from the pandemic during the summer, after I and my friends were fully vaccinated, and before the Delta variant cropped up.  A semblance of a social life returned, though for the record, I never stopped wearing a mask while indoors. Now, with the rise of the omicron variant, this respite is over.  Currently, I have five friends who are dealing with COVID (not terrible cases, because they've been vaccinated), and a coworker whose wife and daughter have it is now isolating, so I don't foresee having a day off for a week or so.  

The main difference between 2020 and 2021 for me is psychological.  Throughout 2020, my main feelings were sadness and horror- the Spring was characterized by a constant wail of sirens carrying doomed patients to beleaguered hospitals, and by stories of mass graves being dug in NYC's Potter's Field.  For 2021, my initial feelings of hope, due to the prospect and then reality of vaccines, were replaced by anger at idiots who selfishly, and foolishly, refuse both masking and vaccination, torpedoing the possibility of an end to the pandemic.  I also noted the near-annihilation of my empathy... I simply don't give two shits about the fate of anti-vaccination contrarians.  I'm comfortable with the prospect of MAGA morons dying in droves, but I'm not quite comfortable with that.  I console myself by reminding myself that these people would be ecstatic to harm people I care about.

I'm not optimistic about 2022.  As I said, I have five good friends who are fighting COVID, and COVID is robbing me of time off from work.  Omicron is raging across the nation, with the New York City metropolitan area being, once again, an epicenter of the pandemic.  I'm resigned to going into 'hermit mode' for a couple of months, in the hope, perhaps misplaced, that the omicron wave will run its course, leaving a bunch of antibody-laden people in its wake.  

I also feel that 2022 will be a shitshow politically, particularly with GOP primaries that see Tea Party assholes challenged by QAnon whackos.  Things are going to get real stupid, real fast.   I think I'm going to try to get over 2020's sadness and 2021's anger, and adopt a pose of stoic resignation for 2022.  I don't know if my magnanimity has any hope of returning in the coming year.

I suspect that 2022 will be a continuation of 2020 and 2021.  Wags are already terming it 2020 2, and this is one sequel that I am not too keen on.  I hope that I'm wrong in my pessimism about the pandemic, it would be nice to be able to plan a huge family reunion, and to do some traveling.  That being said, I think that my pessimism is a good defense mechanism... low expectations seem to be the key to maintaining one's equilibrium.

2021 End of Year Memorials

I made the decision to use this last week of 2021 to look back on the year that was, and between Christmas weekend and today, several meaningful deaths have taken place, deaths of good men and true.  Harry Reid was a lion of the Senate, with the mixed legacy of members of that august body- he usually tried to do the right thing, but he was prevented from being a real firebrand by the stagnating influence of the position- the US Senate is supposedly a collegial place, which means that it is a stultifying place.  This is by design, the Senate protects Establishment interests, so even a good person can't accomplish much to effect real change.

Desmond Tutu was, simply put, a moral titan, a force for civil rights and equal justice... he crusaded against apartheid, acted as a midwife to help birth the multiracial government of South Africa, and headed that nation's Truth and Reconciliation commission.  He was an exemplar of intersectionality, campaigning not just for racial justice, but for women's rights and LGBTQ rights.  If anyone is a candidate for sainthood (I don't know how this works in the Anglican church), it is he.

On a less rarefied note, John Madden, football coach and sports announcer, was one of the great ambassadors of American football.  He used his coaching expertise (a .759 winning percentage) to explain the game with his 'chalkboard' (sometimes used for comedic purposes) and he was entertaining, with his exclamations of "BOOM" after spectacular plays.  He was a nonesuch and he revolutionized sports commentary.

I'm going to cheat a little bit, and mention a death that I should have been aware of when it occurred.  Back in August, mad reggae/dub genius Lee Scratch Perry died.  Perry was instrumental in the development of reggae, producing and recording such artists as Bob Marley and the Wailers, the Upsetters, and Junior Murvin.  He was also a pioneer of dub music, which incorporates a lot of studio wizardry, such as the use of reverb, tape loops, and faders.  I'm chagrined that I didn't learn of Mr Perry's death until a few weeks ago.

I really don't have the time to do deep dives into any of these deaths, but I would have felt remiss if I didn't mention them before year's end.  At least all of these men lived long, productive lives, generally benefiting humanity to some or other extent.  That's about the highest praise I can think of to heap on anybody.

2021 Music Retrospective Part 2: The New Kids

In yesterday's post I wrote about 2021 releases by music industry stalwarts whose careers began in the 1970s.  Today's post will be about emergent artists who have released notable music this year.  It's going to be a fairly short post because I considered one musical act to be the 2021 juggernaut, and not the one you're thinking of.

There were other bands who released fantastic debut singles, but the one band that steamrolled all competition was Isle of Wight based Wet Leg, who's debut single I posted about in August.  This band has it all: an off-kilter sense of humor, a visually arresting lead singer, a unique Amishesque fashion aesthetic, and most important of all, the ability to absolutely shred.  

I first heard them on college radio, and watched closely as they achieved viral stardom with the hilarious Chaise Longue.  The last time I felt this way about a band was when The Chats went viral two years ago.  There are parallels in the two bands' DIY video style (compare the titles at the beginnings of the videos to Chaise Longue and Smoko), slightly demented senses of humor, and even striking redheaded lead singers.  Bands rise and fall on the strength of their music, though, and both bands deliver.

I feel a slight pang of FOMO about missing Wet Leg's Brooklyn debut due to work and the 'rona, but life and livelihood are kinda important to me.  I predict the band will be around for a while, maybe I'll catch them in a stadium show in a couple of years.

Here's a video of the band playing NPR's Tiny Desk, a performance which captures well not only the band's musicality, but the deadpan snarker (WARNING: TV Tropes link, therefore time sink) affect  of leads Rhian and Hester which I find so appealing:

 

Sure, other bands emerged this year, but the competition for best new arrival is no contest... there can be only one.

2021 Music Retrospective Part 1: Class of 1977

This being near the end of 2021, I figured I'd  better start a music retrospective for the year.  I'm going to begin with a post about some older men who had some interesting 'comeback' releases this year.  I'm using the trope 'Class of 1977' for this post, even though one of them got his start in 1976... close enough when you look though the gauzy haze of nostalgia.

I'm going to start with the 76er in the bunch, Billy Idol, who got his start in the punk band Generation X.  With Bitter Taste, his first single in about seven years, the former Mr William Broad explores the lingering trauma of a near-fatal 1990 motorcycle accident.  It's a fantastically moody song, almost a country rocker, in which Mr Idol lays bare the physical and emotional scars of his near death:

 

The second song I'm highlighting here is by that Stang feller,who got his start in 1977 with The Police.  Sting has been fairly active lately, including recording material with Jamaican-Brooklyn reggae/dancehall artist Shaggy a few years ago.  This year, the former Mr Gordon Sumner has come back with Rushing Water, a song which sounds like a return to the form of his early post-Police solo material.  I've heard him on a couple of radio interviews, and he is a funny, charming guy, very different from his 'full of himself' reputation.  The song itself is a welcome return to form for this rock-and-roll yeoman:

The last Class of 1977 member who I will highlight in this post is Gary Numan, who formed Tubeway Army that year.  Gary Numan had a knack for creating sci-fi dystopias with his concept albums, mixing urban anomie, Cold War paranoia, and an ambivalence toward the emerging technologies which allowed him to create his futuristic soundscapes but also threatened the freedom and well-being of late 20th/early 21st century humanity.  Gary Numan's new album, Intruder, is uncannily, even terrifyingly, prescient, being a nightmarish exploration of the Gaia Hypothesis, detailing a world that has, literally, become sick of humanity, and is fighting back in self-defense.  The former Gary Webb (sense a pattern here?) was legitimately freaked out when the pandemic hit, and it seemed as if the planet were indeed striking back against its dangerous, ungrateful children.  If there were a 'thesis statement' for the album, which gives me goosebumps, it's probably Is This World Not Enough?  Just like he did back in 1977, Gary Numan is a nonpareil when it comes to dancing across the line between dream and nightmare:

 
 

It's good to see these aging workhorses, old friends all, releasing such quality music in the sixth decade of their careers.  I'd have to give the edge here to Gary Numan, because of the scary topicality of his new album, but all three men have proved that they are still forces to be reckoned with in 2021.

Local COVID Surge

The new, highly contagious omicron variant of COVID has been surging in the NYC metro area, with one in sixty Manhattanites testing positive for the virus.  On a personal level, I have two friends who are currently dealing with mild cases of the disease, and another friend whose husband and son have tested positive.  Thankfully, everyone is vaccinated, I believe they are boosted as well, and their symptoms aren't life-threatening. The pandemic hit our region hard in Spring 2020, so most people take it seriously.

There are exceptions, the anti-vaccine and mask assholes who have been harassing restaurant workers in NYC are at it again, indulging in a particularly masturbatory bit of self-aggrandizement.  There's no heroism in harassing low-wage fast food workers, putting them at risk of getting ill when they probably don't have paid sick days.

Personally, I'm pretty much in hermit mode.  Because of the holiday weekend, I didn't even see a human coworker for the past three days.  I suspect the next month or so will be spent this way, involving travel to work and to buy groceries, but not much else.  I sure hope 2022 isn't as godawful as these last two years have been, but I'm not optimistic about omicron.

Good King Wenceslaus' Bad Brother

Today being the Feast of St Stephen, a big traditional holiday in Ireland, I figured I'd discuss the man who is second only to St Stephen in his connection to this date... Good King Wenceslaus, who was not a king, though his goodness isn't necessarily up for debate.

More properly known as Václav, Duke of Bohemia, Wenceslaus was responsible for the expansion of Christianity in Bohemia, though his mother was a pagan.  He built churches and invited priests into his duchy, but he also agreed to pay tribute to a Frankish king.  He was probably 24 years old, when his brother, Boleslaus, known as 'the Cruel', either had Wenceslaus assassinated, or provided an opportunity for others to murder his brother.

The topic came up in a discussion thread on Wonkette, when commenter MRK asked:

Why do I now think there was a King/Duke after him who was in charge of Bohemia for decades, kept things safe and prosperous (for the era), and was always annoyed when people went on about the 'good King' who got himself killed playing with lances?

Apparently, though he was dubbed 'the Cruel', Boleslaus Got Shit Done.  According to teh Wiki, which never lies: 

He is notorious for the murder of his elder brother Wenceslaus, through which he became duke. Despite his complicity in this fratricide, Boleslaus is generally respected by Czech historians as an energetic ruler who significantly strengthened the Bohemian state and expanded its territory. His accomplishments include significant economic development due to an expansion in trade, the introduction of silver mining and the minting of the first local coinage, the Prague denarius. 

Now, reading this, I immediately thought of Scottish matters, and pondered why that rat Shakespeare couldn't have written a play about Boleslaus the Bad, rather than writing a scurrilous hit piece on Good King Macbeth and his Gentle Lady, Gruoch.  Then I realized that nasty Bill wasn't sucking up to Czech royalty.  The carol Good King Wenceslas was written by John Mason Neale, who used the duke, now given kingly brevet rank, as an exemplar of moral rectitude.  While it was apparently poorly received by the intelligentsia of Neale's day, it's a banger.  

Here's Judas Priest lead singer and Heavy Metal God Rob Halford, who I think should run for congress in Arizona, belting the carol out as only Halford can:

 

Ohhhh yeah, now that is a good addition to the Heavy Metal Christmas canon!  Maybe Halford could write a secular heavy metal ode to Bad Ol' Boleslaus now.