I have been thinking about comic book origins besides The Crow.
I recently got to read a collection of classic The Champions (Marvel), featuring Hercules, Ghost Rider, Iceman, Angel, Black Widow, and some Dark Star, which is why I had been interested in the first place. I'll get to that.
The first arc threw me, because there were Hercules and Hippolyta, and those are DC characters too, with similarities and differences. Okay, these are the Marvel versions, and they aren't quite like their Roman versions either. No surprises there.
(I just saw Thor: Ragnarok so thinking about mythology as reinterpreted by comic books is its own topic.)
The team origins were interesting, in that the intent was to be there for the little guy, instead of fighting all of these epic battles, and then they kept fighting epic battles. I wondered if maybe they were trying to do what Heroes for Hire did, except that the Heroes for Hire arcs I have read have all been pretty epic too. I have seen one scene of four people working out of a small office, and that was in a Spiderman collection, and they were not the only guests in that story.
Doing some research, well, if Champions was not in line with their stated goal, they were even farther from the original vision. Tony Isabella had wanted it to be two superheroes on the road, like the television show Route 66. It ended up being more of a team book, under some pressure, with specific criteria for what types needed to fill out the team.
This was also the first I had read of Ghost Rider, and there was some interesting information there too.
Tony Isabella had introduced a character called The Friend who was basically a hippie Jesus, though not identified by name. Given Ghost Rider's origins and conflict, that was not an unreasonable inclusion, and it was important to Isabella specifically because there was a lot of infernal representation but nothing celestial. An assistant editor got offended and changed it so that the friend was revealed as a demon in disguise.
"To this day, I consider what he did to my story one of the three most arrogant and wrongheaded actions I've ever seen from an editor."
There are some frustrations to working for the big comic houses, but there are for anything.
Something else unexpected was that I associated the series with Bill Mantlo. He worked on several issues, but some of that may have been that a lot of different creators were rotated in, at least partially because the series was always running late. I can't help but wonder if the deadline issues came from the interference and frustrations of the creators. That could make it hard to keep a team going. All of the subs wouldn't necessarily be great for continuity or quality either, but it could be a great place to cut teeth and expand abilities. There are silver linings.
Those are all just kind of interesting things for me, but there is also a story about how I even came to read it.
The book was a gift from Brian. I met Brian through Twitter, but that was because of Murilo, which was only because of Moon and Ba, because of The Umbrella Academy. Nonetheless, I was once able to update a booth location for Murilo, and Brian is a friend, and has given me comics advice.
Brian knew that I wanted the book because of Gin, who is always trying to get people helping each other, but that included having people share their Amazon wish lists around Christmas, because maybe we could give to each other. I think that's why he originally saw that I wanted it, but he remembered because I liked a post of his about Mantlo's birthday.
Beyond that, I had put that specific issue on my wish list because of Steve Morris, who writes about comics and loves Dark Star, and had posted good issues for reading more about her. There were things I could find and things I couldn't. The Champions Classic can be hard to find, but Brian had a copy, and he was willing to give it to me.
Yesterday's post probably needed a conclusion, about how life is messy, and being human is hard. Sometimes we find our balance by shifting too far in every direction and correcting as we can, so sometimes anger is needed, and maybe even hate, or selfishness, even if there are not areas where we should spend too much time hanging out.
We can make that easier for each other. It's easy to worry about all that we can't do, but that's a waste of time because fairly small things, like likes and retweets and taking a moment to look something up can be huge.
It would be easy to miss too, but that it is a great loss. It is so valuable to look and see that there is a person, a potential friend, a human being, a child of God, a sibling of your spirit. Great things start with just being able to see that.
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
The power of not hate
I hope yesterday didn't sound like I am in favor of hate and anger as long-term strategies. If that wasn't clear enough, let me talk about The Crow for a little bit.
I have not seen the movie (though I have seen some riveting clips set to music). I have been reminded lately of how much it influenced people, with contemporary comic characters and Halloween costumes showing up in my timeline. I also am trying to get around to different important comics, so I went looking for the original Crow comic by James O'Barr. The library didn't have that, but they did have an anthology that looked interesting, so I checked it out.
The Crow: Shattered Lives & Broken Dreams, edited by James O'Barr and Edward E. Kramer.
That title is pretty descriptive, but I thought it would be more comics. Instead it was short stories, poetry, and artwork. Also, some of the contributors were really interesting to me, especially Henry Rollins.
I love his spoken word, where he is charming and funny and sweet, even though he still self-describes as angry and I believe him. I don't really like him so much as a musician, with the undiluted discordant anger. (That is more of an issue with Black Flag than his solo work, but still.) His poetry is somewhere in between, angry, but not so overwhelmingly so that you are pounded away from the message. That seems about right.
The poems were generally pretty good, but those stories were hard. Sometimes in the middle of reading one I would wonder what was wrong with this person, and then I would look up the contributor's bio, and it often made more sense. Regardless, story after story about bloody revenge for rape and murder can wear you down.
That made me start wondering more about the original source material, and the loyalty it inspired in people. A lot of these stories read as fan fiction, and Eric Draven has fans. He has lots of fans.
Digging around a little, I saw that O'Barr himself wrote the comic after his fiancee was killed by a drunk driver. He hoped it would be cathartic, but "It made me more self-destructive, if anything... There is pure anger on each page."
With the anthology, I couldn't help but notice that most often the revenge trips didn't really set things right. It multiplied the total number of deaths, but nothing was fixed or healed. I thought the purpose of coming back was to set things right.
(As it was, I think the best of the stories was "The Blood-Red Sea" by Chet Williams, where the poet Homer chooses to forgo killing his last two murderers and instead to pass on his newest poem to a new listener.)
Things may get set right in the comic and in the movie, and maybe that was part of why it resonated for people. If readers and watchers had reasons to be angry - maybe needed permission to be angry - perhaps it helped with that.
But it didn't help James O'Barr. It won't always help. But I still believe that there should be something that could help him, and I would want that for him.
This feels like a lot of beating around the bush. Let me see if I can find a point.
I often will say that something is worth thinking about or needs to be thought about. I refrain from saying what the conclusion of the thoughts should be. That would often take a value judgment, which I try not to overdo, but also, sometimes you might reject something that you are simply told, but find its truthfulness by following a path that leads to it.
The need to think about things isn't anything new - we attribute "The unexamined life is not worth living" to Socrates - but what should we be examining?
Here is my value judgment: we should be looking for what is true, and what will make us happy.
People can wax very philosophical about truth. I acknowledge that there are things we can't know, and things we shouldn't know yet, but I believe in science and I believe in logic and I believe in the Holy Ghost, and I say that there is a lot we can know and we should live up to that.
People can be very skeptical about happiness, and there are reasons for that. I think about it more now because I am becoming more aware of people who specifically reject it. That's not that they know they have to give up something that stands in the way of their happiness, but that they specifically choose being unhappy because it seems stronger or smarter or something. That tends to increase the misery of others in multiple ways. Don't do that.
Anyway, think about it.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
I have not seen the movie (though I have seen some riveting clips set to music). I have been reminded lately of how much it influenced people, with contemporary comic characters and Halloween costumes showing up in my timeline. I also am trying to get around to different important comics, so I went looking for the original Crow comic by James O'Barr. The library didn't have that, but they did have an anthology that looked interesting, so I checked it out.
The Crow: Shattered Lives & Broken Dreams, edited by James O'Barr and Edward E. Kramer.
That title is pretty descriptive, but I thought it would be more comics. Instead it was short stories, poetry, and artwork. Also, some of the contributors were really interesting to me, especially Henry Rollins.
I love his spoken word, where he is charming and funny and sweet, even though he still self-describes as angry and I believe him. I don't really like him so much as a musician, with the undiluted discordant anger. (That is more of an issue with Black Flag than his solo work, but still.) His poetry is somewhere in between, angry, but not so overwhelmingly so that you are pounded away from the message. That seems about right.
The poems were generally pretty good, but those stories were hard. Sometimes in the middle of reading one I would wonder what was wrong with this person, and then I would look up the contributor's bio, and it often made more sense. Regardless, story after story about bloody revenge for rape and murder can wear you down.
That made me start wondering more about the original source material, and the loyalty it inspired in people. A lot of these stories read as fan fiction, and Eric Draven has fans. He has lots of fans.
Digging around a little, I saw that O'Barr himself wrote the comic after his fiancee was killed by a drunk driver. He hoped it would be cathartic, but "It made me more self-destructive, if anything... There is pure anger on each page."
With the anthology, I couldn't help but notice that most often the revenge trips didn't really set things right. It multiplied the total number of deaths, but nothing was fixed or healed. I thought the purpose of coming back was to set things right.
(As it was, I think the best of the stories was "The Blood-Red Sea" by Chet Williams, where the poet Homer chooses to forgo killing his last two murderers and instead to pass on his newest poem to a new listener.)
Things may get set right in the comic and in the movie, and maybe that was part of why it resonated for people. If readers and watchers had reasons to be angry - maybe needed permission to be angry - perhaps it helped with that.
But it didn't help James O'Barr. It won't always help. But I still believe that there should be something that could help him, and I would want that for him.
This feels like a lot of beating around the bush. Let me see if I can find a point.
I often will say that something is worth thinking about or needs to be thought about. I refrain from saying what the conclusion of the thoughts should be. That would often take a value judgment, which I try not to overdo, but also, sometimes you might reject something that you are simply told, but find its truthfulness by following a path that leads to it.
The need to think about things isn't anything new - we attribute "The unexamined life is not worth living" to Socrates - but what should we be examining?
Here is my value judgment: we should be looking for what is true, and what will make us happy.
People can wax very philosophical about truth. I acknowledge that there are things we can't know, and things we shouldn't know yet, but I believe in science and I believe in logic and I believe in the Holy Ghost, and I say that there is a lot we can know and we should live up to that.
People can be very skeptical about happiness, and there are reasons for that. I think about it more now because I am becoming more aware of people who specifically reject it. That's not that they know they have to give up something that stands in the way of their happiness, but that they specifically choose being unhappy because it seems stronger or smarter or something. That tends to increase the misery of others in multiple ways. Don't do that.
Anyway, think about it.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Monday, January 29, 2018
The power of hate
While I think my urgent desires to bake for the neighbors and deliver emergency goods to the homeless may have reflected a subconscious concern about losing my sense of charity, they were subconscious at best.
On a more deliberate level, when I remember to meditate I am more likely to choose to do a loving-kindness meditation. It is kind of the one that works best for me, but also I don't think it hurts to think about different friends, family members, or acquaintances and to think about them being well, and safe, and living with ease.
That may have made it even more surprising when I found myself reveling in thinking "I hate my family!"
I don't, really, and I know that I don't. That's what I told myself the first time the thought came, but it persisted, and it felt exhilarating. So I thought it louder, and louder, multiple times. So later, at the dinner table, and frustrated again, it was very easy to just think "I hate you all".
I know. This is not amiable.
And I don't like that it's not accurate. Precise communication is important to me, because there is so much that gets misunderstood and miscommunicated already, and I like words and understanding, so I don't want to be a part of the problem. I suppose some of it is connotation.
When teenagers scream "I hate you!" to their parents, it is generally understood that this is not a well-thought out statement of belief, but a sloppy expression of anger and strong feelings, not necessarily completely pointed in the right direction. I know that, and I could recognize my thoughts as just general bad feelings exacerbated by the relatives. My general philosophy is that I should be exploring those feelings, but there's no exhilaration there. Frankly, I'm due for some.
It felt good to put it on them. It wasn't even really on them, because it was just thought and not spoken.
It made more sense later, after another exchange of words.
First of all, I sacrifice a lot for my family. It is more obvious now, with the care-taking, but I have put the needs of others before my own for many years. There have been benefits all along, but especially now - since everyone loves our mother - there should be some acknowledgment and gratitude that what I am doing is good for her, and better for her than various other options would be.
Not only do I not get that - instead getting a lot of blame and resentment - I frequently get this retort when I try and point out that some people have it pretty good: "I work."
You work? I never stop working! I put up with so much, not perfectly, no, but so much more than they even try to manage, and they are still critical of me when I am a freaking hero!
I just broke through somewhere. People (not family members) have tried to tell me before how they don't know how I do it, and I am amazing, and all of these things, and I have shrugged them off, because you are supposed to be modest, and I am only trying to do what's best. Except, lot's of people don't try to do what's best, or they fail harder, and yeah, actually I am doing pretty well.
So I think what embracing the hate did was allowed me to be angry with my family for sucking, which is not all they do, but is nonetheless something that they do a lot.
I have written before about always feeling like there was something wrong with me. I'd identified at least part of that as being because my father was never happy with any of us, and that was not us, it was him. Mentally I was at least partly there, but I hadn't realized how much I was still letting everything be my fault for everyone else. It's not.
I won't deny there's some danger here. If I decide everything is everyone else's fault, and everyone else is bad, that way lies psychopathy. That's not really what is needed.
I have been such a good girl for so long trying to do so many good things. There can be good motivations for that, but hoping to earn the kindness of selfish people is a fool's game.
I have been carrying this burden around where it has always felt like my job to fix everything, and knowing that I couldn't never really took the burden off. The intellectual only gets you so far. But the anger, and the hate, seems to have worked. Something is repaired.
It's questionable how much it will lead me to act differently. Certain family obligations are still necessary, at least while Mom is alive, and even after that, there are the pets. And, I don't truly hate them, most of the time.
Ages ago, when I was trying to figure out what I needed, I wanted to be able to see the good in myself. I could look at it, but I couldn't really feel it, because I was hanging on to this false sense of wrong about myself.
That appears to be fixed now, and it may have taken giving into the dark side to get there.
Who knew?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
On a more deliberate level, when I remember to meditate I am more likely to choose to do a loving-kindness meditation. It is kind of the one that works best for me, but also I don't think it hurts to think about different friends, family members, or acquaintances and to think about them being well, and safe, and living with ease.
That may have made it even more surprising when I found myself reveling in thinking "I hate my family!"
I don't, really, and I know that I don't. That's what I told myself the first time the thought came, but it persisted, and it felt exhilarating. So I thought it louder, and louder, multiple times. So later, at the dinner table, and frustrated again, it was very easy to just think "I hate you all".
I know. This is not amiable.
And I don't like that it's not accurate. Precise communication is important to me, because there is so much that gets misunderstood and miscommunicated already, and I like words and understanding, so I don't want to be a part of the problem. I suppose some of it is connotation.
When teenagers scream "I hate you!" to their parents, it is generally understood that this is not a well-thought out statement of belief, but a sloppy expression of anger and strong feelings, not necessarily completely pointed in the right direction. I know that, and I could recognize my thoughts as just general bad feelings exacerbated by the relatives. My general philosophy is that I should be exploring those feelings, but there's no exhilaration there. Frankly, I'm due for some.
It felt good to put it on them. It wasn't even really on them, because it was just thought and not spoken.
It made more sense later, after another exchange of words.
First of all, I sacrifice a lot for my family. It is more obvious now, with the care-taking, but I have put the needs of others before my own for many years. There have been benefits all along, but especially now - since everyone loves our mother - there should be some acknowledgment and gratitude that what I am doing is good for her, and better for her than various other options would be.
Not only do I not get that - instead getting a lot of blame and resentment - I frequently get this retort when I try and point out that some people have it pretty good: "I work."
You work? I never stop working! I put up with so much, not perfectly, no, but so much more than they even try to manage, and they are still critical of me when I am a freaking hero!
I just broke through somewhere. People (not family members) have tried to tell me before how they don't know how I do it, and I am amazing, and all of these things, and I have shrugged them off, because you are supposed to be modest, and I am only trying to do what's best. Except, lot's of people don't try to do what's best, or they fail harder, and yeah, actually I am doing pretty well.
So I think what embracing the hate did was allowed me to be angry with my family for sucking, which is not all they do, but is nonetheless something that they do a lot.
I have written before about always feeling like there was something wrong with me. I'd identified at least part of that as being because my father was never happy with any of us, and that was not us, it was him. Mentally I was at least partly there, but I hadn't realized how much I was still letting everything be my fault for everyone else. It's not.
I won't deny there's some danger here. If I decide everything is everyone else's fault, and everyone else is bad, that way lies psychopathy. That's not really what is needed.
I have been such a good girl for so long trying to do so many good things. There can be good motivations for that, but hoping to earn the kindness of selfish people is a fool's game.
I have been carrying this burden around where it has always felt like my job to fix everything, and knowing that I couldn't never really took the burden off. The intellectual only gets you so far. But the anger, and the hate, seems to have worked. Something is repaired.
It's questionable how much it will lead me to act differently. Certain family obligations are still necessary, at least while Mom is alive, and even after that, there are the pets. And, I don't truly hate them, most of the time.
Ages ago, when I was trying to figure out what I needed, I wanted to be able to see the good in myself. I could look at it, but I couldn't really feel it, because I was hanging on to this false sense of wrong about myself.
That appears to be fixed now, and it may have taken giving into the dark side to get there.
Who knew?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Friday, January 26, 2018
Concert Review: Trans-Siberian Orchestra
I attended the concert in Seattle on Thanksgiving weekend.
Before my computer issues, I had thought that I might write about the concert as a Christmas attraction - since there are annual tours - and put it on the travel blog instead. Then, as I was trying to keep things going on the dying laptop, I thought I do a regular concert review, until everything gave out and there was no blogging for a month.
The thing is, they are kind of different, and though I had never seen them before, there were probably things about this year that were different. Plus I really want to gripe about the venue.
So I am going to go over the musical part today, and focus on the venue tomorrow.
I was thinking more about how the performance would go because of found Paul O'Neill's death. Some people had been wondering how that would change things. I was thinking that it was probably more like touring with a Broadway show than being in a band. Changes would be fairly normal in that context.
However, he must have been a guiding influence. How much of this year's show had he arranged? How will it affect future shows?
Still, during the concert itself I could see interactions on the stage that were very much traditional rock performance. Yes, there is a plot, and a backup orchestra and narrator and a lot of other things to make it different, but there are still guitarists and vocalists and percussion playing off of each other. Except that apparently O'Neill was on the East Coast tour and I was watching the West Coast group, so that could have been another source of difference there.
It may make the most sense to decide that TSO are their own thing, with elements that are familiar from other performing arts combined in their own way. A lot of the differences that I had thought could come into play might only be noticed by fans.
As it was, this concert seemed to combine parts of older tours and albums. There was a plot, but There was stuff before it and through it and around it that did not necessarily seem to relate to the plot. Apparently the previous show it was based on was a "Best of" show, so that makes sense.
That is speaking only of the first TSO show, because after that there was a short break and then another full performance. I had thought that was Savatage, but apparently it is still TSO.
I had known that was a thing, but I had assumed that the Savatage performance would be more stripped down. Somewhat, but not really. There was still video and orchestral accompaniment, and moving stage equipment and there were pyrotechnics. To be fair, lots of rock bands do those things. It kind of begs the question of why to have both shows, but maybe they just like it that way. Or maybe they need the break and that's a convenient excuse to give one. Maybe it is a way of segregating the definitely Christmas from the less necessarily Christmas.
All of this is a lot about my thoughts, and not really my feelings, which it is only fair to give. The truth is, my feelings are mixed.
There is a lot of spectacle there, and they go all out in putting on the show. When I considered putting the show on the travel blog, it made sense as a Christmas attraction. There are people who go to see The Nutcracker every year, but there are also people who see it as a thing to do sometimes, or at least once, and I can totally imagine having the same attitude for TSO.
They are pretty bombastic, which is not my favorite thing, but must be popular based on how many movies end up going that way. At the same time, it seemed odd to me how saccharine some of the spoken content was. Still, that may accurately describe a lot of Christmas. I mean, they teamed up with Hallmark Channel, so maybe it all fits.
That's not in any way calling them bad. Listening to their music as I write this is fine. I just don't know that I am ever going to crave listening to them again, and that's fine. If you like them, I hope you get to see them and that the changes don't take anything away from it for you.
Different strokes and all that.
http://www.trans-siberian.com/index/home
https://www.facebook.com/groups/427391627368686/
Before my computer issues, I had thought that I might write about the concert as a Christmas attraction - since there are annual tours - and put it on the travel blog instead. Then, as I was trying to keep things going on the dying laptop, I thought I do a regular concert review, until everything gave out and there was no blogging for a month.
The thing is, they are kind of different, and though I had never seen them before, there were probably things about this year that were different. Plus I really want to gripe about the venue.
So I am going to go over the musical part today, and focus on the venue tomorrow.
I was thinking more about how the performance would go because of found Paul O'Neill's death. Some people had been wondering how that would change things. I was thinking that it was probably more like touring with a Broadway show than being in a band. Changes would be fairly normal in that context.
However, he must have been a guiding influence. How much of this year's show had he arranged? How will it affect future shows?
Still, during the concert itself I could see interactions on the stage that were very much traditional rock performance. Yes, there is a plot, and a backup orchestra and narrator and a lot of other things to make it different, but there are still guitarists and vocalists and percussion playing off of each other. Except that apparently O'Neill was on the East Coast tour and I was watching the West Coast group, so that could have been another source of difference there.
It may make the most sense to decide that TSO are their own thing, with elements that are familiar from other performing arts combined in their own way. A lot of the differences that I had thought could come into play might only be noticed by fans.
As it was, this concert seemed to combine parts of older tours and albums. There was a plot, but There was stuff before it and through it and around it that did not necessarily seem to relate to the plot. Apparently the previous show it was based on was a "Best of" show, so that makes sense.
That is speaking only of the first TSO show, because after that there was a short break and then another full performance. I had thought that was Savatage, but apparently it is still TSO.
I had known that was a thing, but I had assumed that the Savatage performance would be more stripped down. Somewhat, but not really. There was still video and orchestral accompaniment, and moving stage equipment and there were pyrotechnics. To be fair, lots of rock bands do those things. It kind of begs the question of why to have both shows, but maybe they just like it that way. Or maybe they need the break and that's a convenient excuse to give one. Maybe it is a way of segregating the definitely Christmas from the less necessarily Christmas.
All of this is a lot about my thoughts, and not really my feelings, which it is only fair to give. The truth is, my feelings are mixed.
There is a lot of spectacle there, and they go all out in putting on the show. When I considered putting the show on the travel blog, it made sense as a Christmas attraction. There are people who go to see The Nutcracker every year, but there are also people who see it as a thing to do sometimes, or at least once, and I can totally imagine having the same attitude for TSO.
They are pretty bombastic, which is not my favorite thing, but must be popular based on how many movies end up going that way. At the same time, it seemed odd to me how saccharine some of the spoken content was. Still, that may accurately describe a lot of Christmas. I mean, they teamed up with Hallmark Channel, so maybe it all fits.
That's not in any way calling them bad. Listening to their music as I write this is fine. I just don't know that I am ever going to crave listening to them again, and that's fine. If you like them, I hope you get to see them and that the changes don't take anything away from it for you.
Different strokes and all that.
http://www.trans-siberian.com/index/home
https://www.facebook.com/groups/427391627368686/
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Band Review: Songs That Need To Be Sung
I don't actually know whom I'm reviewing.
I was followed by Trebol@LarryCandeli. There were links to songs, so I assumed I had a musician or a band. Not the first time.
There does not appear to be a band called Trebol (which I had thought might be a word play on "treble"). The video links are for a Youtube channel called Songs That Need To Be Sung, which also has a Facebook page.
That is also the name of one of the songs, which confused me for a while, and led me to prefer the other song, "Shut It Down". However, the song "Songs That Need To Be Sung" does give the best explanation for the motivation behind the group and the channel -- that this is a time when protest is needed, and music is an important method of protest.
That is not unreasonable. I know of at least one other entity doing that the Twitter account Songs of the Resistance: https://twitter.com/Songs2Resist2
Songs That Need To Be Sung is different in that rather than merely highlighting songs, they are creating their own. That is ambitious, which may explain why so far there are only two. They are good songs on their own, feeling like an update of the types of protest songs that we remember from the late 60s and early 70s, but it may not be sustainable without bringing in other artists.
I do not know if the Larry Lobert credited on the songs is the Larry Candeli who followed me, and it may not matter. I can only give you what I have.
https://www.facebook.com/larrylobertchrisstoddard/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8YUfnTy8qfN7tZe4jiFczw
https://twitter.com/LarryCandeli
(Meanwhile, I continue my experiment in capitalism.)
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
I was followed by Trebol@LarryCandeli. There were links to songs, so I assumed I had a musician or a band. Not the first time.
There does not appear to be a band called Trebol (which I had thought might be a word play on "treble"). The video links are for a Youtube channel called Songs That Need To Be Sung, which also has a Facebook page.
That is also the name of one of the songs, which confused me for a while, and led me to prefer the other song, "Shut It Down". However, the song "Songs That Need To Be Sung" does give the best explanation for the motivation behind the group and the channel -- that this is a time when protest is needed, and music is an important method of protest.
That is not unreasonable. I know of at least one other entity doing that the Twitter account Songs of the Resistance: https://twitter.com/Songs2Resist2
Songs That Need To Be Sung is different in that rather than merely highlighting songs, they are creating their own. That is ambitious, which may explain why so far there are only two. They are good songs on their own, feeling like an update of the types of protest songs that we remember from the late 60s and early 70s, but it may not be sustainable without bringing in other artists.
I do not know if the Larry Lobert credited on the songs is the Larry Candeli who followed me, and it may not matter. I can only give you what I have.
https://www.facebook.com/larrylobertchrisstoddard/
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8YUfnTy8qfN7tZe4jiFczw
https://twitter.com/LarryCandeli
(Meanwhile, I continue my experiment in capitalism.)
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Heart failure
Some of my greatest learning periods have accompanied loss.
I was thinking about that a while back. I remembered the hard lessons that came when my ability to earn a good living took a hard crash and when my normally cheerful nature disappeared. Things that would have been plenty hard on their own were worse because I had taken them for granted. I'd thought they were parts of me, so when they were gone I questioned what I had left.
Remembering that - in this era of hard times - I had to wonder what else might go. I did not think of writing, though that was a thing, but I did identify something that would be an issue.
My natural tendency is to love. It's not just that I believe it's right, but it flows for me. It is usually easy for me to like people and see the good in them and to be happy for them. I thought that might be the most key part of my identity, as well as a key part of my faith. Losing that would be a problem. I tried thinking about prevention or safeguards, and the only thing I came up with was that if I felt my love slipping I better pray.
It slipped.
It was probably happening before I noticed it. Where I first started noticing it was listening to a friend who has had her own hard times, but things are starting to get better. I found myself less happy for her. There was just such a hole inside from wondering when my turn would be.
The last time I remember feeling jealousy was around 1997. I must have really backslid to be facing it again all these years later.
You would think that having thought about the possibility and potential strategies in advance should help. but I didn't really pray about it that much. There were so many other things that I needed to pray for - things that dominated my brain - that it was easy to forget.
Still, there was a level on which I was trying to keep love alive, and I didn't recognize that right away either. This Christmas I found myself with a strong desire to bake for our neighbors.
I have had two other rounds of Christmas baking. Five years ago it was geared toward people from church, and the time before that (possibly ten years ago, but I am not sure) was for friends. It's not that I only do Christmas things every five years, but big rounds of baking are rare.
Another thing that I lost on my computer was my recipe file. When everything was down there wasn't even a way to look up recipes. Still, between recipes on packages and recipes that are simple enough that I remember them (and also buying one container of dough), I made cookies: chocolate chip, oatmeal butterscotch, peanut butter (with and without chocolate kisses), and brownies. Because out of the fifteen houses on our block, only four are dog-less, I also carried along a bag of dog treats.
The reason I know that the last time I baked was five years ago is because it was Sandy Hook. The local shooting here and then the much worse shooting there had cast a pall over the year, and I instinctively felt that my answer was to cook and deliver it away.
I didn't know why I felt so strongly that I needed to take plates to our neighbors, then I started to think that maybe it was to lift the gloom of this rotten year.
It could also have been to connect. There were some good visits. There were some where I made Mom come because I knew there would be visiting and she needed it too. Maybe it was to let the neighbors know that we can be there for them. I don't know. It was just what needed to be done.
Maybe I needed to know that I am still capable of giving and doing. Anything but money, anyway. I took a backpack of leftover emergency supplies downtown too. No, there's not much I can do for the homeless, but they can use those things better than I can.
(Of course, as I left the group I was talking to, I saw a city worker with a trash can, and suddenly felt disapproved of, but maybe that was my imagination. If not, that problem is the system, not me.)
And maybe I should start praying more about that. However, I must also admit that a later failure of love was very helpful.
I hope to write about that Monday.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
I was thinking about that a while back. I remembered the hard lessons that came when my ability to earn a good living took a hard crash and when my normally cheerful nature disappeared. Things that would have been plenty hard on their own were worse because I had taken them for granted. I'd thought they were parts of me, so when they were gone I questioned what I had left.
Remembering that - in this era of hard times - I had to wonder what else might go. I did not think of writing, though that was a thing, but I did identify something that would be an issue.
My natural tendency is to love. It's not just that I believe it's right, but it flows for me. It is usually easy for me to like people and see the good in them and to be happy for them. I thought that might be the most key part of my identity, as well as a key part of my faith. Losing that would be a problem. I tried thinking about prevention or safeguards, and the only thing I came up with was that if I felt my love slipping I better pray.
It slipped.
It was probably happening before I noticed it. Where I first started noticing it was listening to a friend who has had her own hard times, but things are starting to get better. I found myself less happy for her. There was just such a hole inside from wondering when my turn would be.
The last time I remember feeling jealousy was around 1997. I must have really backslid to be facing it again all these years later.
You would think that having thought about the possibility and potential strategies in advance should help. but I didn't really pray about it that much. There were so many other things that I needed to pray for - things that dominated my brain - that it was easy to forget.
Still, there was a level on which I was trying to keep love alive, and I didn't recognize that right away either. This Christmas I found myself with a strong desire to bake for our neighbors.
I have had two other rounds of Christmas baking. Five years ago it was geared toward people from church, and the time before that (possibly ten years ago, but I am not sure) was for friends. It's not that I only do Christmas things every five years, but big rounds of baking are rare.
Another thing that I lost on my computer was my recipe file. When everything was down there wasn't even a way to look up recipes. Still, between recipes on packages and recipes that are simple enough that I remember them (and also buying one container of dough), I made cookies: chocolate chip, oatmeal butterscotch, peanut butter (with and without chocolate kisses), and brownies. Because out of the fifteen houses on our block, only four are dog-less, I also carried along a bag of dog treats.
The reason I know that the last time I baked was five years ago is because it was Sandy Hook. The local shooting here and then the much worse shooting there had cast a pall over the year, and I instinctively felt that my answer was to cook and deliver it away.
I didn't know why I felt so strongly that I needed to take plates to our neighbors, then I started to think that maybe it was to lift the gloom of this rotten year.
It could also have been to connect. There were some good visits. There were some where I made Mom come because I knew there would be visiting and she needed it too. Maybe it was to let the neighbors know that we can be there for them. I don't know. It was just what needed to be done.
Maybe I needed to know that I am still capable of giving and doing. Anything but money, anyway. I took a backpack of leftover emergency supplies downtown too. No, there's not much I can do for the homeless, but they can use those things better than I can.
(Of course, as I left the group I was talking to, I saw a city worker with a trash can, and suddenly felt disapproved of, but maybe that was my imagination. If not, that problem is the system, not me.)
And maybe I should start praying more about that. However, I must also admit that a later failure of love was very helpful.
I hope to write about that Monday.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Technical difficulties
Before I got knocked off-line, my final post had been "Underground - Becoming radicalized". That could have sounded ominous in a way different than the reality.
My desktop PC - which I use for everything - gave out two days before that. It just died with a PXE error, and trying to correct the boot order didn't work. Trying to reinstall the OS also did not work. Trying to access the hard drive separately via another computer? Nope, not working.
I tried to keep things going with my laptop, a Chromebook that I had bought in 2012. It was out of support, but I only used it for travel. I typed my blogs on it, and chose the daily songs based on what I remembered of what was coming up. I thought maybe I could do Christmas songs for a while, until I figured something out. Then the Chromebook died.
That wasn't a new issue. Periodically it would freeze, and then I would have to remove the battery, wait, put it back in and restart. That didn't work this time.
My brother loaned me his laptop, so I tried keeping at it, and then that one froze. I flipped it over to take out the battery, and it had screws keeping it in.
Sometimes you need to give up.
I later discovered that I just had to let the battery drain all the way on the Chromebook, so part of my problem was my habit of keeping things charged. For the Toshiba, I could not find a tiny Phillips screwdriver, but I made a tiny flat head work, and I kinda-sorts have two working laptops now, as long as I don't push my luck. Before that, though, it was hard.
A few months ago I came really close to losing Comcast, until my sister paid the bill. That is phone, television, and internet for us. My cell phone was already gone, so the landline is the only way of reaching me now, and without cable that would make keeping my mother entertained harder, but what was hurting the most was the thought of losing internet. I thought about the human connection, the news, the music, and simply having any access to the outside world. Care-taking can be very isolating. I thought about it and it was agonizing.
This was so much worse.
If we had lost internet, I still would have been able to write. I wouldn't have been posting new blogs or submitting screenplays, but at least I could still have written in my journal. I could still have the creative outlet that works best for me.
I'm not good at writing by hand. My hand cramps up after a very short while, and even before that it is too slow. I have a lot of pent-up thoughts to get out. That month without an outlet was hard. Even when no one is listening, I need to be able to say it.
It still is not smooth sailing. My brother's laptop had an expired copy of Office 2016. I tried putting in my license, but that's for an older copy. I tried reinstalling my software, but I can't get the CD drive to work. (The Chromebook doesn't even have a CD drive.) I am using Wordpad, but then if you save in Rich Text File it tells you that is Word and it's expired again. A friend suggested Open Office, and I guess I should look into that.
I need to check out Amazon Studio's version of screenwriting software too. I could probably find my Final Draft license in e-mail, but that is also older, and this is an older laptop that is only borrowed. Nothing is ideal right now.
But at least I am able to write something again. I wrote out all my feelings in a new journal file, and now they are coming out in the blog, just like old times, except without all my files.
That could be worse. Because I publish so much of what I write, I think the only creative (maybe some day could make some money) projects that are truly gone are about three chapters each for the next novels in each series. Otherwise, screenplays are up on Amazon Studios, books are on Kindle Direct Publishing, and short stories and poems have mostly been blogged. The notes I use to keep names and dates straight are gone, but that can be reconstructed.
Journals going back to 2000 and special projects are gone. Writing them the first time was most important, so maybe that's okay.
Musically it's hard. I have been able to recreate, for the most part, which reviewed bands still need a song of the day and which bands still need to be reviewed. There are probably gaps. Also, the sound quality seems a lot worse on the Toshiba. I hooked up the same speakers, but I don't think the sound card is very good. Is it even ethically proper to still try and review bands with diminished sound quality? I could still make this week work, because I had been listening to two back before the second crash, but beyond that I am not sure.
I cannot recreate my Emo notes, and that is frustrating. I mean, someday I hope a professional can recover the files, but that takes money I don't have. And maybe some luck.
Obviously, I see the importance of backing up in a new light. I've never not been able to get files off the old drive before, but that's probably because it was different parts that failed.
All of that combined is why yesterday I wrote about what I intend to write rather than what I will write. I still have lots to say, and I need to write at least some of it, but maybe not in the blog. Maybe I can maintain a journal, but only manage that. Maybe I can manage screenwriting again, and have time for that, but only for that. Maybe there's a long hiatus on reviewing bands.
All of those things fill different roles for me, so any of them would be a loss, but there has been loss. Loss is nothing new here.
So it comes back to that decision: when do you fight harder, and when do you give up?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
My desktop PC - which I use for everything - gave out two days before that. It just died with a PXE error, and trying to correct the boot order didn't work. Trying to reinstall the OS also did not work. Trying to access the hard drive separately via another computer? Nope, not working.
I tried to keep things going with my laptop, a Chromebook that I had bought in 2012. It was out of support, but I only used it for travel. I typed my blogs on it, and chose the daily songs based on what I remembered of what was coming up. I thought maybe I could do Christmas songs for a while, until I figured something out. Then the Chromebook died.
That wasn't a new issue. Periodically it would freeze, and then I would have to remove the battery, wait, put it back in and restart. That didn't work this time.
My brother loaned me his laptop, so I tried keeping at it, and then that one froze. I flipped it over to take out the battery, and it had screws keeping it in.
Sometimes you need to give up.
I later discovered that I just had to let the battery drain all the way on the Chromebook, so part of my problem was my habit of keeping things charged. For the Toshiba, I could not find a tiny Phillips screwdriver, but I made a tiny flat head work, and I kinda-sorts have two working laptops now, as long as I don't push my luck. Before that, though, it was hard.
A few months ago I came really close to losing Comcast, until my sister paid the bill. That is phone, television, and internet for us. My cell phone was already gone, so the landline is the only way of reaching me now, and without cable that would make keeping my mother entertained harder, but what was hurting the most was the thought of losing internet. I thought about the human connection, the news, the music, and simply having any access to the outside world. Care-taking can be very isolating. I thought about it and it was agonizing.
This was so much worse.
If we had lost internet, I still would have been able to write. I wouldn't have been posting new blogs or submitting screenplays, but at least I could still have written in my journal. I could still have the creative outlet that works best for me.
I'm not good at writing by hand. My hand cramps up after a very short while, and even before that it is too slow. I have a lot of pent-up thoughts to get out. That month without an outlet was hard. Even when no one is listening, I need to be able to say it.
It still is not smooth sailing. My brother's laptop had an expired copy of Office 2016. I tried putting in my license, but that's for an older copy. I tried reinstalling my software, but I can't get the CD drive to work. (The Chromebook doesn't even have a CD drive.) I am using Wordpad, but then if you save in Rich Text File it tells you that is Word and it's expired again. A friend suggested Open Office, and I guess I should look into that.
I need to check out Amazon Studio's version of screenwriting software too. I could probably find my Final Draft license in e-mail, but that is also older, and this is an older laptop that is only borrowed. Nothing is ideal right now.
But at least I am able to write something again. I wrote out all my feelings in a new journal file, and now they are coming out in the blog, just like old times, except without all my files.
That could be worse. Because I publish so much of what I write, I think the only creative (maybe some day could make some money) projects that are truly gone are about three chapters each for the next novels in each series. Otherwise, screenplays are up on Amazon Studios, books are on Kindle Direct Publishing, and short stories and poems have mostly been blogged. The notes I use to keep names and dates straight are gone, but that can be reconstructed.
Journals going back to 2000 and special projects are gone. Writing them the first time was most important, so maybe that's okay.
Musically it's hard. I have been able to recreate, for the most part, which reviewed bands still need a song of the day and which bands still need to be reviewed. There are probably gaps. Also, the sound quality seems a lot worse on the Toshiba. I hooked up the same speakers, but I don't think the sound card is very good. Is it even ethically proper to still try and review bands with diminished sound quality? I could still make this week work, because I had been listening to two back before the second crash, but beyond that I am not sure.
I cannot recreate my Emo notes, and that is frustrating. I mean, someday I hope a professional can recover the files, but that takes money I don't have. And maybe some luck.
Obviously, I see the importance of backing up in a new light. I've never not been able to get files off the old drive before, but that's probably because it was different parts that failed.
All of that combined is why yesterday I wrote about what I intend to write rather than what I will write. I still have lots to say, and I need to write at least some of it, but maybe not in the blog. Maybe I can maintain a journal, but only manage that. Maybe I can manage screenwriting again, and have time for that, but only for that. Maybe there's a long hiatus on reviewing bands.
All of those things fill different roles for me, so any of them would be a loss, but there has been loss. Loss is nothing new here.
So it comes back to that decision: when do you fight harder, and when do you give up?
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Monday, January 22, 2018
Down and out
I'm not sure if I'm all the way back.
Technical and life issues made blogging a challenge. It still is, actually, but I intend to write more about the technical and writing issues tomorrow. Today is more about how it fit in with the other challenges.
On Cyber Monday the price of a book I had wanted went down from $11.99 to $3.99. I arranged to give cash to my sister to buy it through her account, but Amazon is weird about e-books and it accidentally went on her work card, and I had to call to get the transaction canceled after lots of online attempts and it was very frustrating. I missed my window of opportunity and the next day the price was back up.
I was utterly destroyed by this $8 difference, but as wrecked as I was, I knew it was excessive. I had always been planning on paying the $11.99 at some point. I think there were three factors, though one of them stood out more to me as I was trying to be rational about 8 bucks.
The factors I see more clearly now are the humiliation about needing help from other people to make a simple purchase (which made it going wrong worse), plus all of the effort of trying this part of the site and then that part and then waiting on hold. Time and energy are precious to me and I spilled plenty of both on that attempt to save a small amount of money.
For back then when it was fresh, what stood out most was knowing that the less you have the more precious everything becomes. That is not just for possessions like books, but for "wins" -- for the sheer ability to want something and successfully get it.
Something else had been rankling from a week before. There was a karaoke night scheduled. I love karaoke, and I don't get to do it that often, so I was really looking forward to it. We were helping my brother move in the afternoon. but he thought that would take an hour in the afternoon. Okay, I know things like that are likely to take longer than you would think, but I didn't allow for all of the things that would go wrong, and how late we would be. I didn't make it.
That shouldn't have been overwhelming in itself -- it's just one night -- but there was no knowing how long it would be until the next one. It's worse in that now there is another one. It's for February which is a very short gap, so that should be good, except that I find I can't RSVP.
It's not my certainty that I am no fun anymore (based on the stress I feel when asked how I am and the weird reactions I get when I can't answer like a normal human being). I also have this nagging fear that something else will come up. I will think I am going and be wrong again, and space is limited so it matters.
Certainly plenty of things have gone wrong over the last two years, but my hesitation to commit to fun may have been exacerbated on Boxing Day.
I wanted to go see Christmas Lights. I convinced my sisters to go to Maddax Woods, and they had even agreed to go to the Victorian Belle, though that fell through (that's its own frustrating story there). Realistically I thought there were two things I could bus to, that were still open after Christmas. I had someone to stay with Mom. I had the bus fare and admission for the Grotto, and a route that would take me to there and Peacock Lane. I just didn't count on the weather.
It wasn't bad over here, but far on the East side of the river, the wet had refrozen. I started to worry a little at the 82nd Max station, but that wasn't too bad. Getting off the bus, though, a small walk to the corner became really dangerous. I was so close, but there was no way I could get there without falling. At least it didn't feel like I could. Maybe that was just intuition preventing me from risking it all for nothing, because when I got home I learned that they had closed due to the weather anyway. I had not known that when I left two hours earlier.
And that is how long it took to get there, so that was a lot of time on TriMet for a whole lot of nothing, except for remembering how many others have it worse. On the way back I saw a woman cradling a teddy bear like an infant. I guess it could have been worse, because I think she was using it to calm herself, with some success, but it felt like there was a deep hurt behind that. Then we passed people lining up outside a shelter for food, and I saw a man head under a footbridge to take shelter for the night. I guess it might offer enough of a screen that no one would try to rob him or tell him to move along, but you can't tell me that it's not cold and damp.
I suspect that seeing those things should have reminded me that I don't really have it so bad, but I still felt terrible about my own problems, to which there was added a reminder that I am a selfish monster for caring about my petty problems, and also a sadness for them, and my own inability to help.
Speaking of things that should be helpful or inspiring but just made me feel worse, some people did help me.
Birthday fundraisers have become a Facebook thing lately. I have at times thought about crowdfunding, but I could never bring myself to do it because there is always Puerto Rico, and homeless people, and people who are unemployed and have kids. But when my computer died, I posted that if I were going to do a birthday fundraiser it would be for me, and I included my Paypal.
Three people gave to me. That was good of them, and it was touching, but it was also just another reminder of how pathetic and miserable this is. I used to be the helper! And it should be a reminder that we all have our up times and down times, and if some people are helping then it must follow that some people need help, or at least can use help, but that is not how it feels.
I took down my birthday. First of all, you can't set up a fundraiser for yourself via the normal Facebook process; there has to be an existing charity. So, even if I had felt capable of shaking down my friends, I couldn't do it that way. Mainly, though, I could not bear the well wishes, and thanking people or liking the posts and all of that acting like there is something to celebrate.
Birthday wishes are big for me. I try and never miss them. I have kept sending other people wishes, and for the people who knew the date anyway and messages (I also shut down posting on my timeline) I thanked them, but the normal thing would have kept me cringing all day, or off Facebook, except then it would just be there the next day. That was what I did to stay functional, even though doing it seems to indicate a certain emotional frailty.
At least I am no longer seeping stress out my back. (That is a different story, perhaps too gross for sharing, but it was a big factor in not being able to tell people I was fine.)
Anyway, that's an overview of what has been going on. I intend to write more tomorrow, as I said, but it might not happen. A lot of the past month or so has come down to questions of what is a sign to fight harder and what is a sign to give up. On the 30th I tried the Grotto and Peacock Lane again, and that time it worked. I still haven't RSVP'd for karaoke. The value of blogging should be made more clear tomorrow, but sometimes you have to give up valuable things too.
However, I will be putting my Paypal link at the bottom of every post.
I have thought about putting ads on the pages many times, especially lately. It seemed likely that I would just slow the page down for everyone and pick up 40 cents out of it; what would be the point? I could never bring myself to do a paywall, even if I had a big enough audience to make it worthwhile. I know what it's like to be the person locked out.
But if there has been some value in my words, and if you have the desire and ability to give, yeah, I will remind you that there is a way.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Technical and life issues made blogging a challenge. It still is, actually, but I intend to write more about the technical and writing issues tomorrow. Today is more about how it fit in with the other challenges.
On Cyber Monday the price of a book I had wanted went down from $11.99 to $3.99. I arranged to give cash to my sister to buy it through her account, but Amazon is weird about e-books and it accidentally went on her work card, and I had to call to get the transaction canceled after lots of online attempts and it was very frustrating. I missed my window of opportunity and the next day the price was back up.
I was utterly destroyed by this $8 difference, but as wrecked as I was, I knew it was excessive. I had always been planning on paying the $11.99 at some point. I think there were three factors, though one of them stood out more to me as I was trying to be rational about 8 bucks.
The factors I see more clearly now are the humiliation about needing help from other people to make a simple purchase (which made it going wrong worse), plus all of the effort of trying this part of the site and then that part and then waiting on hold. Time and energy are precious to me and I spilled plenty of both on that attempt to save a small amount of money.
For back then when it was fresh, what stood out most was knowing that the less you have the more precious everything becomes. That is not just for possessions like books, but for "wins" -- for the sheer ability to want something and successfully get it.
Something else had been rankling from a week before. There was a karaoke night scheduled. I love karaoke, and I don't get to do it that often, so I was really looking forward to it. We were helping my brother move in the afternoon. but he thought that would take an hour in the afternoon. Okay, I know things like that are likely to take longer than you would think, but I didn't allow for all of the things that would go wrong, and how late we would be. I didn't make it.
That shouldn't have been overwhelming in itself -- it's just one night -- but there was no knowing how long it would be until the next one. It's worse in that now there is another one. It's for February which is a very short gap, so that should be good, except that I find I can't RSVP.
It's not my certainty that I am no fun anymore (based on the stress I feel when asked how I am and the weird reactions I get when I can't answer like a normal human being). I also have this nagging fear that something else will come up. I will think I am going and be wrong again, and space is limited so it matters.
Certainly plenty of things have gone wrong over the last two years, but my hesitation to commit to fun may have been exacerbated on Boxing Day.
I wanted to go see Christmas Lights. I convinced my sisters to go to Maddax Woods, and they had even agreed to go to the Victorian Belle, though that fell through (that's its own frustrating story there). Realistically I thought there were two things I could bus to, that were still open after Christmas. I had someone to stay with Mom. I had the bus fare and admission for the Grotto, and a route that would take me to there and Peacock Lane. I just didn't count on the weather.
It wasn't bad over here, but far on the East side of the river, the wet had refrozen. I started to worry a little at the 82nd Max station, but that wasn't too bad. Getting off the bus, though, a small walk to the corner became really dangerous. I was so close, but there was no way I could get there without falling. At least it didn't feel like I could. Maybe that was just intuition preventing me from risking it all for nothing, because when I got home I learned that they had closed due to the weather anyway. I had not known that when I left two hours earlier.
And that is how long it took to get there, so that was a lot of time on TriMet for a whole lot of nothing, except for remembering how many others have it worse. On the way back I saw a woman cradling a teddy bear like an infant. I guess it could have been worse, because I think she was using it to calm herself, with some success, but it felt like there was a deep hurt behind that. Then we passed people lining up outside a shelter for food, and I saw a man head under a footbridge to take shelter for the night. I guess it might offer enough of a screen that no one would try to rob him or tell him to move along, but you can't tell me that it's not cold and damp.
I suspect that seeing those things should have reminded me that I don't really have it so bad, but I still felt terrible about my own problems, to which there was added a reminder that I am a selfish monster for caring about my petty problems, and also a sadness for them, and my own inability to help.
Speaking of things that should be helpful or inspiring but just made me feel worse, some people did help me.
Birthday fundraisers have become a Facebook thing lately. I have at times thought about crowdfunding, but I could never bring myself to do it because there is always Puerto Rico, and homeless people, and people who are unemployed and have kids. But when my computer died, I posted that if I were going to do a birthday fundraiser it would be for me, and I included my Paypal.
Three people gave to me. That was good of them, and it was touching, but it was also just another reminder of how pathetic and miserable this is. I used to be the helper! And it should be a reminder that we all have our up times and down times, and if some people are helping then it must follow that some people need help, or at least can use help, but that is not how it feels.
I took down my birthday. First of all, you can't set up a fundraiser for yourself via the normal Facebook process; there has to be an existing charity. So, even if I had felt capable of shaking down my friends, I couldn't do it that way. Mainly, though, I could not bear the well wishes, and thanking people or liking the posts and all of that acting like there is something to celebrate.
Birthday wishes are big for me. I try and never miss them. I have kept sending other people wishes, and for the people who knew the date anyway and messages (I also shut down posting on my timeline) I thanked them, but the normal thing would have kept me cringing all day, or off Facebook, except then it would just be there the next day. That was what I did to stay functional, even though doing it seems to indicate a certain emotional frailty.
At least I am no longer seeping stress out my back. (That is a different story, perhaps too gross for sharing, but it was a big factor in not being able to tell people I was fine.)
Anyway, that's an overview of what has been going on. I intend to write more tomorrow, as I said, but it might not happen. A lot of the past month or so has come down to questions of what is a sign to fight harder and what is a sign to give up. On the 30th I tried the Grotto and Peacock Lane again, and that time it worked. I still haven't RSVP'd for karaoke. The value of blogging should be made more clear tomorrow, but sometimes you have to give up valuable things too.
However, I will be putting my Paypal link at the bottom of every post.
I have thought about putting ads on the pages many times, especially lately. It seemed likely that I would just slow the page down for everyone and pick up 40 cents out of it; what would be the point? I could never bring myself to do a paywall, even if I had a big enough audience to make it worthwhile. I know what it's like to be the person locked out.
But if there has been some value in my words, and if you have the desire and ability to give, yeah, I will remind you that there is a way.
https://www.paypal.me/sultryglebe
Tuesday, January 02, 2018
Thank you for your patience
I had posted on Facebook and Twitter, but if there is anyone reading the blog who did not see it, I have been having big computer problems with only intermittent connectivity. That will be its own post, and I hope soon.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Underground: Becoming radicalized
That title may seem a little scary. It is not completely intentional, but it seems like the best title. Maybe that will make sense by the end.
I've written about fear and choice, but not all choices are made by fear.
In "Minty" Harriet Tubman talks about her escape, and coming back to get her husband, who did not want to go. Other people did. She had been thinking about her family, but that was a limited vision, and she realized that and began to free many.
When Noah and Rosalee make it to John and Elizabeth's, family information comes out that was not expected. John learns that Rosalee is his niece. Rosalee learns that her brother Sam is dead.
Maybe it's important that Sam is her half-brother. Maybe her father would not have hung his own son to gain political points at a rally and show that he was sufficiently tough on slavery. As it was, it was one of the most horrifying images of the series, and it was irrevocable.
As Noah and Rosalee lay together, processing her grief for Sam, but no doubt also thinking of all those lost along the way, she says that none of us are free until all of us are free.
Noah being captured not long after may reinforce that, as well as finding out that she is pregnant. Her determination to free her remaining family and her fear of not being able to leads to some questionable decisions, but she's right. If the people you love are in captivity, your caring for them becomes another bond.
Regardless of what wrong decisions she makes, her decision to train with Harriet is an admirable one. Even if she does it because of her family, it does not change that the help she gives to others extends beyond them.
Noah is angry at her concealing the pregnancy, and he has a point, but he also cannot resist the call. He cannot deny Harriet's words when she appeals to him, and he cannot deny the need of another man to be reunited with his family.
Maybe it's not just our own family that matters, or maybe at one point you realize we are all family.
It is possible to deny caring for others. You can kill your soul to the point that you will rush through a viciously misanthropic tax bill and lie about it being a gift. You can narrow your focus to where you believe that everyone else is lazy and worthless but you (maybe including you, on some level), and you will keep accepting pain as long as it gets spread around to those bad ones.
You can do that, but it's evil, and it kills joy, and it scorches land that should be beautiful and live-giving. And it kills joy.
There is a lot of pain in caring about everyone, but there is joy in it too, and comfort, and moments of triumph.
It is technically radical, because it means you want to take the oppressive structures and tear them up by the roots. Doing that requires being radically honest, including with and about yourself, so you will notice if your plans end up leading to more destruction. Therefore it also requires being radically caring and radically kind.
The details may vary in how we get there, but there shouldn't be any doubt as to destination.
I've written about fear and choice, but not all choices are made by fear.
In "Minty" Harriet Tubman talks about her escape, and coming back to get her husband, who did not want to go. Other people did. She had been thinking about her family, but that was a limited vision, and she realized that and began to free many.
When Noah and Rosalee make it to John and Elizabeth's, family information comes out that was not expected. John learns that Rosalee is his niece. Rosalee learns that her brother Sam is dead.
Maybe it's important that Sam is her half-brother. Maybe her father would not have hung his own son to gain political points at a rally and show that he was sufficiently tough on slavery. As it was, it was one of the most horrifying images of the series, and it was irrevocable.
As Noah and Rosalee lay together, processing her grief for Sam, but no doubt also thinking of all those lost along the way, she says that none of us are free until all of us are free.
Noah being captured not long after may reinforce that, as well as finding out that she is pregnant. Her determination to free her remaining family and her fear of not being able to leads to some questionable decisions, but she's right. If the people you love are in captivity, your caring for them becomes another bond.
Regardless of what wrong decisions she makes, her decision to train with Harriet is an admirable one. Even if she does it because of her family, it does not change that the help she gives to others extends beyond them.
Noah is angry at her concealing the pregnancy, and he has a point, but he also cannot resist the call. He cannot deny Harriet's words when she appeals to him, and he cannot deny the need of another man to be reunited with his family.
Maybe it's not just our own family that matters, or maybe at one point you realize we are all family.
It is possible to deny caring for others. You can kill your soul to the point that you will rush through a viciously misanthropic tax bill and lie about it being a gift. You can narrow your focus to where you believe that everyone else is lazy and worthless but you (maybe including you, on some level), and you will keep accepting pain as long as it gets spread around to those bad ones.
You can do that, but it's evil, and it kills joy, and it scorches land that should be beautiful and live-giving. And it kills joy.
There is a lot of pain in caring about everyone, but there is joy in it too, and comfort, and moments of triumph.
It is technically radical, because it means you want to take the oppressive structures and tear them up by the roots. Doing that requires being radically honest, including with and about yourself, so you will notice if your plans end up leading to more destruction. Therefore it also requires being radically caring and radically kind.
The details may vary in how we get there, but there shouldn't be any doubt as to destination.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Underground: Choice
I'm going back to the "Minty" episode.
Tubman's presentation was absolutely enthralling, which only increased the sense of discomfort that I am about to get into.
In earlier episodes there was beginning to be some conflict between the members of the Sewing Circle - a group of women who openly support abolition and with somewhat more secrecy shelter runaway slaves - and some visitors affiliated with John Brown. The disagree on the justification for and necessity of violence.
With everything that she has been through (probably including some PTSD), Elizabeth finds herself becoming more drawn to the violence, especially when she sees the face of her attacker. This is where she commits arson, though after she has seen the man leave his home. She then sees a young boy calling for his mother and entering the flames.
We later see the boy heavily bandaged in a hospital. It does not appear that his mother was in the house, or that anyone else was hurt, but Elizabeth is now responsible for injury, not just property damage. It's a reminder that if trying to be careful does not guarantee results.
In "Minty" we aren't there yet, but she does begin to talk in terms of war. Her communication is so direct with the audience that it is a question for the watcher; will you fight for this?
I came to a place of empathy with John Brown a few years ago after watching The Abolitionists on The American Experience. I can understand why it seemed like there was no other way, and I already believed in the importance of his cause. I still don't know that I could initiate an attack. Defend myself? Yes. Defend others? Yes. But if there's not an actual attack going on, just a horribly wrong and unjust structure, can I start violence against that? I don't know that I can.
So the thing I appreciate so much about where they went is that it gave a choice without removing responsibility. I wish I could give the words, but probably really people should just watch it. Still, here is what it meant to me: You better listen.
Harriet Tubman believed that she was led, guided by visions in her case. I have often felt myself led too. You better listen to find out what you can do, and what you should do, and what it is your role to do.
There is so much that I don't know right now about this time and how to get through, but I do believe in my ability to listen. I believe in the ability to get answers.
And I believe that I can do what I need to do.
Tubman's presentation was absolutely enthralling, which only increased the sense of discomfort that I am about to get into.
In earlier episodes there was beginning to be some conflict between the members of the Sewing Circle - a group of women who openly support abolition and with somewhat more secrecy shelter runaway slaves - and some visitors affiliated with John Brown. The disagree on the justification for and necessity of violence.
With everything that she has been through (probably including some PTSD), Elizabeth finds herself becoming more drawn to the violence, especially when she sees the face of her attacker. This is where she commits arson, though after she has seen the man leave his home. She then sees a young boy calling for his mother and entering the flames.
We later see the boy heavily bandaged in a hospital. It does not appear that his mother was in the house, or that anyone else was hurt, but Elizabeth is now responsible for injury, not just property damage. It's a reminder that if trying to be careful does not guarantee results.
In "Minty" we aren't there yet, but she does begin to talk in terms of war. Her communication is so direct with the audience that it is a question for the watcher; will you fight for this?
I came to a place of empathy with John Brown a few years ago after watching The Abolitionists on The American Experience. I can understand why it seemed like there was no other way, and I already believed in the importance of his cause. I still don't know that I could initiate an attack. Defend myself? Yes. Defend others? Yes. But if there's not an actual attack going on, just a horribly wrong and unjust structure, can I start violence against that? I don't know that I can.
So the thing I appreciate so much about where they went is that it gave a choice without removing responsibility. I wish I could give the words, but probably really people should just watch it. Still, here is what it meant to me: You better listen.
Harriet Tubman believed that she was led, guided by visions in her case. I have often felt myself led too. You better listen to find out what you can do, and what you should do, and what it is your role to do.
There is so much that I don't know right now about this time and how to get through, but I do believe in my ability to listen. I believe in the ability to get answers.
And I believe that I can do what I need to do.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Underground: Fear
In the first season Jay (a slave who spent time living with Indians) tells Ben Pullman that we each have two wolves inside, one good and one evil. Only the one you feed can live. He leaves unanswered which one Ben's father August is feeding. In both seasons characters give in to the their better and worse impulses, but in the second season it becomes clearer how much of a factor the fear inside can be.
There were two conversations that stood out specifically. In one, Noah argues that you can't get rid of the fear; you just can't let it overcome you. That is a healthier attitude than the other conversation.
Elizabeth has had a hard time. Watching the woman who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown over her failure to conceive, it was hard to picture her taking to sheltering runaway slaves with such enthusiasm, but she did. She found a new purpose and new abilities, and found herself held hostage in her home, raped, attacked and branded, mocked by her attacker, pelted when attempting to speak, and her husband was murdered.
She was never going to get good advice from Cato, but she had no way of knowing that.
You could certainly argue that the things he was saying didn't sound like the words of a recently suicidal man. There were reasons for alarm bells to go off.
Elizabeth said she didn't know whether to try and keep the fear inside or let it out. Cato's advice was to pull it all inside and then let it all out, transforming you into a worse monster than the one who hurt you, basically.
And he sounded convincing; Alano Miller is a super-intense actor. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth commits arson, blackmail, and apparently enters into a sham marriage to get inside information in preparation for the raid on Harper's Ferry. She also participates in a daring raid to free the slaves from three plantations with Noah, but she had participated in a daring raid to rescue Noah before a lot of the terrible things had happened to her and before she had ever thought about becoming a monster.
It's worth remembering that Cato's pretended suicide attempt was an effort to gain sympathy to accelerate his spy work in pursuit of Harriet Tubman. When he is buying the freedom of some slaves, and contributing to causes, it can look like there is a good heart there, but there are other clues that his primary motivation is ego. His belief that he is the necessary force to tear the country apart is easily cast aside in favor of controlling the legend of Patty Cannon.
Even if you ignore moral issues (which I don't recommend), Cato is not the best source of advice because he doesn't seem to have much of a problem with fear. He did fear for Devi briefly, but he turned on her definitively when she rejected his actions. His ego may lead him down bad paths, but it also tells him he is smarter and more capable than everyone else (which is not completely unfounded). Elizabeth would never really want to be like him, even if there is some temporary allure.
Caring for others does hurt. Noah's worst taste of fear comes when he learns that Rosalee is pregnant. It was bad enough fearing for her; now there is so much more at stake. It does lead to anger, but still, his answer is that you cannot let the fear overtake you. You might even take big risks to help another family, and other people, because you know that it matters. (Hence a daring raid freeing slaves from three plantations).
If you don't care about anything you don't have to fear anything, but it's no way to live.
You have to find a way to deal with that fear.
There were two conversations that stood out specifically. In one, Noah argues that you can't get rid of the fear; you just can't let it overcome you. That is a healthier attitude than the other conversation.
Elizabeth has had a hard time. Watching the woman who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown over her failure to conceive, it was hard to picture her taking to sheltering runaway slaves with such enthusiasm, but she did. She found a new purpose and new abilities, and found herself held hostage in her home, raped, attacked and branded, mocked by her attacker, pelted when attempting to speak, and her husband was murdered.
She was never going to get good advice from Cato, but she had no way of knowing that.
You could certainly argue that the things he was saying didn't sound like the words of a recently suicidal man. There were reasons for alarm bells to go off.
Elizabeth said she didn't know whether to try and keep the fear inside or let it out. Cato's advice was to pull it all inside and then let it all out, transforming you into a worse monster than the one who hurt you, basically.
And he sounded convincing; Alano Miller is a super-intense actor. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth commits arson, blackmail, and apparently enters into a sham marriage to get inside information in preparation for the raid on Harper's Ferry. She also participates in a daring raid to free the slaves from three plantations with Noah, but she had participated in a daring raid to rescue Noah before a lot of the terrible things had happened to her and before she had ever thought about becoming a monster.
It's worth remembering that Cato's pretended suicide attempt was an effort to gain sympathy to accelerate his spy work in pursuit of Harriet Tubman. When he is buying the freedom of some slaves, and contributing to causes, it can look like there is a good heart there, but there are other clues that his primary motivation is ego. His belief that he is the necessary force to tear the country apart is easily cast aside in favor of controlling the legend of Patty Cannon.
Even if you ignore moral issues (which I don't recommend), Cato is not the best source of advice because he doesn't seem to have much of a problem with fear. He did fear for Devi briefly, but he turned on her definitively when she rejected his actions. His ego may lead him down bad paths, but it also tells him he is smarter and more capable than everyone else (which is not completely unfounded). Elizabeth would never really want to be like him, even if there is some temporary allure.
Caring for others does hurt. Noah's worst taste of fear comes when he learns that Rosalee is pregnant. It was bad enough fearing for her; now there is so much more at stake. It does lead to anger, but still, his answer is that you cannot let the fear overtake you. You might even take big risks to help another family, and other people, because you know that it matters. (Hence a daring raid freeing slaves from three plantations).
If you don't care about anything you don't have to fear anything, but it's no way to live.
You have to find a way to deal with that fear.
Friday, December 15, 2017
Band Review: A.J. & Tara
A.J. & Tara are a pop
duo from Los
Angeles.
I enjoyed them pretty
well. Their music has a strong technological influence. I can't swear to the
presence of Auto-Tune, but I can't rule it out either. Between that and the
synth, the music seems like a natural fit for the club scene. The emphasis on
partying in the music tends to agree.
Despite that, there is
still an emotion that comes through. The tempos are not endlessly
dance-centric, but can also go well as a background to other activities. I
thought "Rock The Night" and "Believing" were the best of
the four tracks. You will notice similarities between them, but they do not end
up being monotonous.
For the niche where it
would be easy to place A.J. & Tara, they are better than they need to be.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Band Review: DiElle
My primary feeling with
DiElle is annoyance. That has been building up for a long time.
I have had her on the
review list since January 21st, getting surprisingly close to a year. For some
perspective, tomorrow's band was entered on June 28th. (I try to keep it within
six months.)
That happened because
when I first went to check out DiElle's site there was a very disjointed
navigation process for listening to about 40 songs, and I didn't have time for
all the clicking back and forth.
That only delayed her for
about two months. Then when I gritted my teeth to get to it, I discovered that
the vast majority of the tracks were just half-minute samples. You needed to
pay to get whole songs.
I have a lot of sympathy
for the need of musicians to make money. I support that. I still think if you
are trying to sell 40 songs you can afford to have a small block of songs (I
think 4 - 6 is optimal) for people to listen to together, letting them know if
you have music they would be interested in. This is especially true if you go
around following different accounts trying to raise interest in your work:
provide some work! Some bands will send you some tracks if you subscribe to
their mailing list; I don't love that either, but at least it gives you an
option.
(If this complaint sounds
familiar, I had similar issues with Prophecy of Sound.)
What DiElle gives you is
two versions of the same song on Spotify, a list of four official videos that
is really just two videos that play, one private video, and one short clip, and
of course a page full of 30-second clips. What I mostly used was another play
list - titled original material - which had some good recordings but also some
with poor sound quality, some interviews, and more of the notorious short
clips.
I remain annoyed.
Anyway, DiElle reminds me
a lot of Adele. Her voice isn't quite as strong, but she doesn't take that hard
edge Adele often does either, which may make her more palatable for some.
However, unless you just want to assume you like and start buying tracks,
listening to her takes an unfortunate amount of commitment.
But, except for a daily
song down the road, she is no longer my problem, and that makes me happy.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Underground: Three episodes
I have only seen each
episode once, but while I thought the cuts and tracking that they used in the
first season were interesting, the most innovative things seemed to happen in
Season 2. That makes sense; the success of Twin Peaks aside, normally you want to get your audience
somewhat established before you mess with them too much.
There were three episodes
that particularly stuck out.
"Ache" was the
third episode of Season 2. Rosalee has been working with Harriet Tubman, and
goes alone to a rendezvous with some runaway slaves. Despite some close calls,
she gets them safely away, and then a gun shot sends her off of the boat, into
the water.
That is just the
beginning. After making it to shore and tending her wound, she has to deal with
fights, falls, cold, thirst, temporary deafness, and snakebite. Also, she is
pregnant.
The physical toll on her
feels punishing for the viewer. It was visceral, and it almost made me want to
stop watching. That's not an exaggeration; I was seriously considering that I
didn't want to watch this anymore during the show. But then after, I did want
to watch the next episode, so I guess it worked out.
I'm not sure that the
next one I am thinking of was really "Citizen", but I think it was.
Everything was out of sequence.
It was an episode where
people were changing directions. As disjointed as they were feeling, maybe it
left the viewer confused and disoriented with them. That can work, but I
wouldn't have done it for that alone, mainly because there were so many things
I still wasn't sure of by the end of the episode.
However, they also
covered a lot of ground, and moved everyone forward very quickly. As the season
was winding to a close, that was necessary. I guess it worked for that, but I
am still not sure about it.
Not all risks pay off,
but the biggest reason I am writing a post on film making choices for the show (instead
of my emotional responses) is because of sixth episode, which was brave and
bold and powerful.
"Minty" was
amazing.
Harriet Tubman combines
the name of her mother and her husband, but she was called Minty (for Araminta)
as a child, which is something she tells her audience. Here Harriet Tubman
speaks.
There is an odd tension
at the beginning. We see a woman getting ready in front of a mirror, with a
long skirt and corset and visible scars from whippings. For a moment I wondered
if we had jumped forward with Ernestine, because we hadn't really seen Tubman
in a dress at this point. There is that uncertainty of whom we are watching,
and also the long silence.
She goes to where she
will speak, and it is an auction block, with prices marked on the merchandise -
something never referred to beyond that, but full of symbolism that cannot be
ignored.
Then she speaks. For most
of the episode she is the only voice that you hear. There is one other voice
briefly, when she asks a question about one of her scars and a man answers, but
mainly she is telling her story. She is telling it well, and almost unbearably
at times when the thunk of her hand emphasizes the beatings she received as a
young girl.
Monologues are a risk for
holding attention. I was watching it aware of what a risk it was, and it was
spellbinding. The writing helped and the cinematography helped, but I have to
give a lot of credit to Aisha Hinds who plays Tubman. It was riveting.
And then there were
emotional things too. I am going to try and combine those things with things I
felt in other episodes, and try and write some good things about that for next
week.
Today is just about film making, and Underground was bold.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Queen Sugar: Making amends
In my last round of
writing about Queen Sugar (it's only
going to be one post this time, I am pretty sure), I wrote about fears for
Blue. He is so well-loved and so sweet that the vulnerability was hard to
ignore. Something happened, but not at all expected.
Blue's mother Darla had
been out of his life due to drug addiction. Two years clean meant that she was
not only in Blue's life again, but that she was working a good job, and engaged
to Ralph Angel. The engagement led to a reunion with her long-estranged
parents. Then she told Ralph Angel that Blue might not be his.
I have noticed that Darla
really uses the steps and processes that she has learned in recovery to keep
herself functioning. I think that telling Ralph Angel was not done well, and it
was because she wasn't thinking about steps.
I blame that on the
pressure from her father, telling her that she had to tell. A part of me
wonders if it was somewhat deliberate, knowing it would lay waste to the life
she had built. I can't be completely against them either. Her mother said some
things about how difficult it was having an addict as a daughter, with the
disappearances and the broken promises, and I don't doubt there. There was
nonetheless a certain rigidity to them that I don't think did their daughter
any favors.
(And if they were hoping
it would give them Blue, they were mistaken.)
I saw a lot of comments
about the storyline that this is the kind of thing that you take to your grave.
I'm not necessarily in favor of that either, but this confession that wouldn't
just blow up Darla's life (though it really did), but also Ralph Angel's. If
you have wronged someone, and need to confess it, then I think you need to
think about reducing harm.
What really drove that
home for me is that even though Darla told him that Blue might not be his,
Ralph Angel told his family that Blue wasn't his. He only took in the worst
information. I have seen that happen before. If you tell someone something
horrible enough, it blots out the surroundings. It was also pretty horrible
that she told him right at harvest time.
If Darla had felt less
pushed by her father - and by guilt - could she have thought about that? She
could have done a paternity test first, and eliminated the unknowns. She could
have waited until after harvest, both to help Ralph Angel be able to
concentrate and to not take a staffer away from the mill at a time when they
really needed someone on the phones. She could have put some support for Ralph
Angel in place. You can't take away all the pain, but can mitigate.
That is my cerebral
response. Emotionally, I hate that it happened at all. They love each other so
much, and have been through so much, and it's hard to believe that they can
really be happy apart. There was a grace in their final parting that was
beautiful, but also tragic.
She has grown stronger,
and so has he -- they have shown the most growth out of any of the characters
-- but this shattering of trust may be irreparable. It hurts and it should
hurt, but maybe it could have hurt less.
Anyway, that was the
thing I had thought about most. Otherwise, I think the interest that all the
younger Landry's are showing in Charley is really creepy, especially given the
family history. I believe in her ability to destroy them, but I question
whether it will be worth the cost.
And I can see that in
many ways Nova and Remy could make sense. They have a shared commitment to
service and community that they fill in a lot of different ways, but, I did not
see that coming.
That would blow up some
things too.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Watching television
If this has been kind of
a Black History year for reading, it has been for watching too.
I have already posted
things about Hidden Figures and A United Kingdom for movies. My sisters and I also went to see
Girls Trip. I have posted a lot about Queen Sugar, but I have also been watching Underground and Black-ish.
Much like my reading, my
watching wasn't carefully planned either. Mostly it came from hearing positive
feedback on everything, but that isn't generally enough. I can't tell you how
strongly people have recommended The Good Wife and Madame Secretary and so many shows (let alone movies) that I
have never watched. It's not that I don't believe them when they say the shows
are good, but getting me to watch something new is relatively difficult.
The tipping point for
both Queen Sugar and Underground was the
pilot I have been working on for so long. Yes, the focus on Black characters -
especially with the focus on women - was helpful, but also I had been at a
point where I was mainly watching sitcoms, and some things about dramas are
different, so it seemed like a good refresher. I have learned things from their
setups and how they carry story lines through. Underground specifically
has taken some amazing creative risks in its second season. I don't know that I
would ever try and pull off similar things, but it's good to be reminded what
can be done.
We started watching Black-ish on the "Lemonade" episode. Perhaps
it was mainly the image of tiny Wanda Sykes being held back from destroying a
Trump voter (I don't care how short she is, her feet were going strong!), but
we felt like it might resonate, and it did. I believed that it would be smart
and funny from what I had heard, but yeah, it is a clever show, and it
educates, and it does a pretty good job of not letting the explanations drag
things down.
I had some luck on my
side. About the time that I was ready to watch Queen Sugar, they
repeated every episode from the first season in preparation for the second
season. I was able to watch an episode a day for a little over two weeks, which
for me is binge-watching. (When I finally caught up and had to wait a whole
week to see what happened next, that was rough.)
I have seen a good amount
of Black-ish. Reruns allowed us to see all of Season 3
except for episode 15, "I'm a Survivor". (I'm not sure why we never
got that one), and we are keeping up with Season 4. The library had Season 1 on
DVD. I wish they had Season 2.
The library also had both
seasons of Underground, though I hate that it is over now, and the
reasons why it is over. (Sinclair Broadcast Group is going to get its own post.
Trust me.)
I have strong thoughts
about various episodes and arcs, and the following posts will try and cover
those. Beyond that, maybe the right thing to mention is a special chat that the
cast of Queen Sugar had with Oprah and an audience after the
season finale. Audience members talked about the things that were important to
them.
The one I remember most
was a man whose son was attacked, and then the police arrested him, and he was
handcuffed to the hospital bed, and it was an ordeal for the family. Micah's
arrest and trauma, and sharing it with his father, helped that family. It gave
a vent to the feelings and the experience. Maybe it helped them feel heard.
There are shows that
don't go there at all, or shows that have treated police brutality and come
down on the sides of the cops (CSI Cyber and Blue Bloods come to mind), but this
show that has been so focused on women and supportive of women was also really
helpful for two men.
When we worry about the loss of predatory men who
have been associated with hits ending the golden age of television, or that a
show with a specific focus can be too niche, we should remember all of the
different ways that different people can react to shows.
And we should remember that representation really
matters.
Related posts:
Friday, December 08, 2017
Band Review: UFO
I came to UFO by a
different path.
I have watched "That
Metal Show" with my sisters, but I was not with Julie when she was
listening to a radio interview with host Eddie Trunk, who named UFO as his
favorite band. (Or maybe it was his favorite unknown band, because otherwise I
would think it was KISS.)
She asked me if I had
ever heard of them. I hadn't, but if finding out that there is an unfamiliar
classic rock band that comes recommended from someone who knows music isn't a
reason to check out a band, I don't know what is. And then their catalog was so
large I had to spread out the listening over a few months while continuing to
review other bands.
UFO is an English rock band
that formed in August 1969. A part of me thinks it would be cool if I had
discovered them two years later, so it would be a 50-year retrospective, but
there's always a possibility to do something else then --- maybe review a new
album or a live show.
For all their longevity I
am pretty sure that I had not heard them previously, but there are things that
are familiar. They very much sound like 70s rock -- not dated, but I can hear
similarities from their contemporaries, and from some bands that came later but
were influenced by UFO.
It is not just that they
sound like similar bands, because I can hear the band pulling from other
sources as well. There is a noticeable blues influence that I appreciate.
That variety between
songs led to some additional mystery when Spotify threw in some really techno
songs; did UFO experiment that much? One of the titles referenced Lovecraft,
but lots of rockers do that. Finally, after figuring out the right search, that
appears to be UFO!, with an exclamation point.
Once I was pretty sure
which tracks were UFO and which were UFO!, two things added to UFO's
familiarity.
Many of the song titles
made me think of other songs, but then when I listened, they were different.
Beyond that, UFO's most recent album, The Salentino Cuts,
covers songs by other bands, ranging from Bill Withers to John Mellencamp. That
gave a new view to how the band fits into the larger world of rock, its history
and its present.
Glad to have checked them
out.
Thursday, December 07, 2017
Band Review: Bruce Guynn & Big Rain
Bruce Guynn & Big
Rain are a California crossover band, blending country with rock and blues.
They have an impressive
touring history, including going to China and tours for troops.
They would probably be
enjoyable at an outdoor concert on a warm day.
None of those statements
are negative, but they don't indicate any particularly strong impressions
either.
The music is mellow. There
is nothing wrong with that, but nothing really stood out to me either. Maybe
that's because it is more country, but being more country could have easily
made me hate it, and that didn't happen either.
There is just a teeny bit
of irritation at finding their own pages self-describing as "Heroes of
Crossover Rock", and how the tribulation they have faced would break other
bands. That seems like they should be a little less forgettable. They could at
least have written a short summary of the tribulation to give some context.
I find them fine, but not
compelling.
Wednesday, December 06, 2017
Thoughts from Black History Month 2017
This will be a little
random, but there are bits and pieces here that I want to get out.
I mentioned being torn
between Maya Angelou and Gwendolyn Brooks for poetry. I would never even have
known about Gwendolyn Brooks, except for a pinned tweet from Mikki Kendall:
"We are each other's
harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and
bond." - Gwendolyn Brooks
Regular readers should
not have any trouble figuring out why that quote resonated with me. Also, based
on that statement, the point I am going to make shouldn't even be surprising,
but I was touched by the kindness in Brooks' poetry. There was a sensitivity
and empathy for the lives of people in her poems, for circumstances mundane and
tragic. Supplemental interviews and reminisces corroborated that aspect of
Brooks. I value her kindness and compassion, and the value she could see while
looking at "each other".
Initially I wasn't
enjoying The People
Could Fly that much. Many of the
tales were familiar, and I had kind of wanted them to be more magical. Near the
end, though, there was a true story of a man who ferried escaping slaves across
the Ohio river until the time that he went seeking his own
freedom, and that was fascinating. Then the last story was the title tale, "The People Could
Fly". It was so magical and moving and heartbreaking. So if you start the
book, and it's dragging for you (which if you read a lot of folklore is a real
possibility), don't give up; at least read the last section.
I wrote yesterday that
1948 was the official start of Apartheid and the Khama marriage, but it was
also the publication year for Cry the Beloved Country. It was so much more familiar than I expected it to be.
Things that I have
learned since being a high school and college student against Apartheid have
shown me that I didn't know that much about it then. Beyond that, most of what
I have studied has been near the end. Of course it would look different seeing
things near the beginning. There were two things that particularly struck me,
and I guess that's where the familiarity came in.
Paton was inspired by
what he saw around him, of course, and his attempts to help, but he was also
inspired by The Grapes of Wrath. He
read it on a vacation, which he needed because he was burned out, and there's
something to remember there for people who want to do good. Regardless, I saw
that he was inspired by Steinbeck and thought, "Okay." I read about
the worn out land, overgrazed and dry and children dying from lack of milk, and
people leaving their homes in the hope of some chance to survive that contained
a lot of empty promises, and then I understood differently. Of course it
inspired him!
And maybe it discouraged
him too, because all over different parts of the world we keep having the same
problems, but then maybe you remember that you are not alone in caring about
it.
I wondered other things
too, like if some of the formality built into the language and customs made it
harder to have necessary conversations. I suspect that there is more than I
understand about the correlation between not valuing people and destroying the
land. I was grateful to find helpful people.
There was a bus strike
going on in the city, due to a fare hike that would be insupportable for those
who relied most on the buses. Car pools were organized, but a lot of people
took long walks. (Yes, there was a familiarity there, but for something that
was still coming on our side.) And there were people who would offer rides to
those walking.
I never heard much about
white South African resistance to Apartheid. (I heard rationalization about how
the news made it sound worse, which was really disturbing.) You would hope
there would be people who didn't approve, and it is good to see that was true
too. It doesn't undo all the people who wanted it, or were afraid to let it go,
but it's something. I'll take hope where I can find it.
There was one other thing
about South Africa, getting back to that fraught relationship
with Great Britain that was being explained as context for the
opposition to the Khama marriage.
I am a big fan of L.M.
Montgomery. Rilla of Ingleside is set
during WWI. The family's housekeeper reveres Lord Kitchener and relies on him
utterly. All I ever thought of from that is that there was a high ranking
military guy, probably from the peerage, who died while WWI was still in
progress. In that South African background, I learned that he was also
responsible for concentration camps during the 2nd Boer War. Wives and children
of the Dutch South Africans were imprisoned under horrible conditions,
resulting in thousands of deaths. That's literal: 4177 women, 22074 children,
and 1676 men, who would be mainly those too old to be combatants.
Susan's admiration was
treated as a joke, without the text otherwise commenting on the merits of Kitchener. I can't help but suspect that there were
many older Canadians who relied on him, and then wonder if part of their faith
in him came from how abominably he treated the Boers.
It was a bit of a shock.
It probably shouldn't be, because at this point I shouldn't be naive enough to
be shocked if a "war hero" has some atrocities on the record. Without
excusing anything about Apartheid, the tension with Great Britain becomes understandable. Also, one begins to
see the difficulty in condemning human rights abuses when your own hands are
dirty.
But that brings us back
to the Khamas, and I already wrote a lot about them. Through different posts I
also said quite a bit about Hidden Figures; maybe I tend
to write more about things I've watched. That will lead us into next week,
because I watched a lot of stuff that relates. Only some of it happened in
February, but that goes perfectly with the reading.
I guess the final thought
should be that this was really more of a Black History Year than month. Maybe
my studies are just becoming more integrated. That sounds better than terrible
disorganization.
Related posts (besides
Monday and Tuesday):
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