Appalachian Apocalypse

Okay, the first report in a week or so, and I’m glad to be back. Have continued to do well generally on the cutting-down-on-alcohol-intake front, though two pitchers and two glasses of rum on Saturday (along with a vaguely remembered quantity of Jen's vodka) were, perhaps, a bit over the top. Still, in general consumption is way down, to the point that I don’t really think about it anymore when I go out; in fact, recently the problem has been less drinking more than I should than it’s been drinking more than I can afford. And financial troubles never bother me as much as behavioral ones.

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I had been really looking forward to this past weekend. I got a weird mailing a while ago, you see. It was announcing that the circus was coming to town, sort of. When the first thing I saw upon opening this thing was a picture of a partially ruined Earth with what appeared to be a comet streaking toward it (which makes me wonder why the Earth was already ruined; it was perfectly obvious that the comet hadn’t hit yet), I knew I was in for a good time.

Actually, the crazy thing was announcing a convention of people who think that the world is coming to end, and I mean really really soon. “Something BIG is about to happen,” screamed the flyer. “Space is limited. RESERVE YOUR SEAT TODAY!” It was supposed to be a “power-packed seminar that will provide the information you need to understand how major world events relate to the time of the end,” which, you know, I hear that and I’m hooked. On Saturday the talks included “The Genesis Code” and “The Antichrist Revealed” (which, if you think about it, they should have saved for last; having "The Antichrist Revealed" on Saturday is like saying who the murderer is on the first page of a mystery novel). The Sunday talks had less interesting names, but I’m sure they were wonderful, too. And best of all, the big show was being held at the Radisson, conveniently located across the street from Hank’s and only a couple of blocks from my apartment, so transportation wasn’t gonna be a problem. Also, admission was free.

Anyway, I had planned to get up early (for me) on the Saturday, say around ten. I had research work I had to get done at the library, and on Saturday the damn thing closes up at five. So, go to the library, put in about two hours of compiling voting records, and then the day’s my own. I was planning to stop at Husson’s Pizza across the street for a slice to keep my strength up, but I wasn’t gonna eat much, because I had hope of free food at the shindig (there must have been food; no one wants to face Armageddon on an empty stomach), and wanted to keep room available.

As it turns out, I needn’t have worried about whether they’d serve food or not. I stayed up rather too late on the Friday, and ended up sleeping ‘til nearly 1:00 the next day. That, of course, was early enough to catch the craziness, but I still had that work that needed done, so I had to go to the library instead. I was so disappointed. Now, the Apocalypse will catch me unawares.

I’m sure you’re all disappointed, too, because this week’s post was gonna be a review of the performance. I was gonna take a tape recorder and a camera and my notebooks and pretend to be a real-life, honest-to-God reporter. I suppose you’ll all just have to catch these people when they come to your town. I hope for your sake that they hurry.

The whole thing was put together by an organization called “Clear Voice, Inc.” I’ve been to their website now, because I thought I should do at least that much for the benefit of my readers. There isn’t much craziness at the site, which disappointed me a bit. There’s a lot of worry about “secular fundamentalists” who want to “ghetto-ize faith,” which I hope doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means. And of course they’ve got an up-to-date list of various natural disasters taking place across the globe, which is fine. They include quotes from people who think that God is destroying the Earth in response to our wickedness, which if you think about it isn’t really a very original idea. Hurricane Katrina was God’s punishment, as you would expect, but what might surprise you is that it was specifically a rebuke for our encouraging the Jews to vacate Gaza:

At least one New Orleans-area resident believes God created the storm as punishment because of the recent role the United States played in expelling Jews from Gaza. On Sunday evening, Bridgett Magee of Slidell, La., told the Christian website Jerusalem Newswire that she saw the hurricane "as a direct 'coming back on us' [for] what we did to Israel: a home for a home." Stan Goodenough, a website columnist, described Katrina as “the fist of God” in a Monday column. “What America is about to experience is the lifting of God’s hand of protection; the implementation of His judgment on the nation most responsible for endangering the land and people of Israel,” Goodenough writes. “The Bible talks about Him shaking His fist over bodies of water, and striking them.”

So, okay. Anyway, to be fair, the Clear Voice folks didn’t write these things, and they go out of their way to explain that the fact that these things appear on their site doesn’t mean they “favor or disfavor” the views expressed. So that’s something.

My point is, I love New Orleans, but if God was gonna destroy it for wrongdoing He would have done it a long time ago. I mean, there’s every kind of sin you could want in New Orleans, just lying about the place. You can’t step off a curbside in the French Quarter without sinning. So, really, if God was mad about Israel, he should have destroyed a different city, because with New Orleans the message gets a little lost in the telling, you know? Maybe Indianapolis, which isn't doing anyone any good anyway. Plus, if Indianapolis got destroyed by a hurricane, that would be pretty spectacular, wouldn't it? Can hurricanes form over the Great Lakes?

There are a few other interesting bits, like the “Social Issues” section which details various cultural sins, such as efforts towards gay marriage and Pennsylvania allowing Sunday beer sales, for which we’ll be punished. Also, the site claims that the Catholic Church is recruiting more exorcists, presumably due to a sudden rash of folks suffering from demonic possession which has inexplicably not made the news (and you know more folks would watch the news if things like that got on).

My first thought on hearing this was, where do you go to recruit exorcists? Are there certain bars or nightclubs they hang out at? But they aren't actually trying to find exorcists; they need regular-folks (well, probably regular-priest) volunteers, and they’re offering to train you. Among the things you’ll learn is how to pick the devil out of rock music and video games and what, exactly, you’re supposed to say to him, as well as how to tell genuine possession from various false positives like, say, schizophrenia.

A few interesting bits like that. But, on the whole, the website is lamentably short on craziness, which leads me to believe that I would have been disappointed in the seminar as well. The big problem with the site is that there isn’t anything much about the end of the world on it. I was hoping to read some of what I missed hearing this weekend, but no luck. How can you have an organization dedicated to warning people about the end times, and then not talk about the end of the world on your website? If the end is really imminent, isn’t it counter-productive to make people hunt around for important information? Just put it on the homepage, okay?

Also, they’ve got a merchandise page, but no T-shirts. I would have bought one.

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That’s about all that happened this week, really, except that Andi sang at the Union on Saturday night (which is why I drank so much). She had some trouble with the frat boys, which there’s a shock, huh? Anyway, during a break she sat with me and complained about them. She asked, “Why do you come here? You’re too smart for this.”

“I come here when there’s no one else here, Andi,” said I. “The only reason I'm here now is you; I was walking out the door when you showed up, and I stayed to listen to you. This is all your fault.”

Andi didn’t have any fun at all and walked out vowing never to return (in part because of a fight with her guitar player, whose name may or may not have been Sean, which may or may not be spelled correctly), but actually I had a good time. I got a bit drunk, as I mentioned, and Jen was there. I hadn’t seen her since last spring, so that was nice. Also, Charlotte was there. I hadn’t, to the best of my recollection, ever really had a conversation with her before, but we talked a bit on Saturday, and I enjoyed it very much. They’re playing somewhere else on Thursday (St. Mark's, I believe), and since Charlotte is Andi's semi-manager she'll presumably be there. I think I’ll go ‘round and see them.

And my brother finally got my CD burner working, so I’m in a disc-making frenzy. If you’re reading this and I know you personally, be expecting a CD sometime in the near future. Best of all, I’ve been making covers for the jewel cases, which is a low-impact way to exercise my creativity. These cases I’m making look professional, and I’m actually recording CDs that I’ll probably never listen to, just to make more cases. It’s a sad and sorry scene, really, but I’m enjoying it.

And that’s been my life for the last week. If anything further develops, I’ll report back. Sorry about the Rapture thing; I'll try to be a better reporter in the future. Love to all.

...in which the author is doing significantly better than the Government...

So, as I’ve said before, I’m not really cynical, though I sometimes seem to be. Still, sometimes you run across something that kind of makes you think that the people who run the country are every bit as obtuse and self-serving as your worst nightmares make them out to be. Such an item was the recent news that the same companies with ties to the Administration (Dick Cheney’s Halliburton in particular; you know he’s still getting $200K a year from them, right?) that have been gorging themselves on no-bid contracts in Iraq will now get to do the same to New Orleans.

I was going to bitch about this, but The Onion had a piece that I don’t think I could top, so I’m including it, with thanks.

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Halliburton Gets Contract To Pry Gold Fillings From New Orleans Corpses' Teeth
September 14, 2005 Issue 41•37

HOUSTON—On Tuesday, Halliburton received a $110 million no-bid government contract to pry the gold fillings from the mouths of deceased disaster victims in the New Orleans-Gulf Coast area. "We are proud to serve the government in this time of crisis by recovering valuable resources from the wreckage of this deadly storm," said David J. Lesar, Halliburton's president. "The gold we recover from the human rubble of Katrina can be used to make fighter-jet electronics, supercomputer chips, inflation-proof A-grade investments, and luxury yachting watches."

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It was a pretty good weekend. Katy, Emily, and Brooke all came in to visit this weekend, so I got to spend some time with each of them, though not as much as I would have liked with any of them. Brooke informed me that she has continued to read the blog from Lexington (she’s in school at UK now), but Katy hasn’t been (damn her—and I left that nice goodbye to her, as well). I didn’t get around to asking Emily whether she had or not…we were too busy making fun of the drunks she was sharking at the pool table.

Emily’s boyfriend is in New Orleans right now. He got sent down with the Guard (actually, I think he volunteered, and good for him) for only a two- or three-week hitch, which is up in a day or two. They’re asking Guardsmen to volunteer to stick around and continue to help out, but he isn’t sure he’s going to do that. The operation is so poorly run that, even though there’s so much work to be done and so many people who need help, he spends most of his time sitting around in a makeshift barracks. In the two weeks he’s been there, he’s been on exactly one search-and-rescue mission, with thousands of people in danger. He wants to help, but there just aren’t any missions for him. As Brian Williams wrote last Monday, “There was water, there was food, and there were choppers to drop both. Why no one was able to combine them in an airdrop is a cruel and criminal mystery of this dark chapter in our recent history." I don’t know if I’ve ever seen this level of incompetence before.

When I think of my beautiful city, and the courage and suffering of her people, and the outpouring of sympathy and support from around the country; and then think of the ineptitude of the people whose job is to help them (from the President down to the local officials), I get so angry I can’t think straight, so I’m not gonna talk about this anymore right now. Maybe in a bit.

* * * * * * *

Anyway, as I say, Katy was in town, which was nice. But I got out too late Friday to see much of her and Justin, or of Brooke…everybody went home early, ‘cause there was a Marshall home football game at 10:30 Saturday morning (which is just insane) and it was really a bit too busy in the bar when I got there for anyone to have a good time. It turned out badly for me, because I ordered a pitcher as soon as I got there, and everyone started leaving before I finished the first glass. Timmy stuck around for a while, and eventually Nikki (who had left earlier) came back, but the out-of-towners were all gone.

Which I figured, well, okay, because we’ll all see each other tomorrow night, and we should have a bit more room and peace to carry on conversations. After all, practically the whole town turned out for the game against Kansas State Saturday morning, and the tailgates started at around 6:00. So I figured, okay, everyone starts drinking early, so they’ll wear out early, too. But no such luck. The bar was packed Saturday night. And these people really had been drinking since 6:00 AM, as well; you could tell by how absolutely butt wasted they all were. A bunch of shots taken quickly will get you drunk, but it ain’t the same kind of drunk that drinking all day will get you, and the difference is obvious to folks watching you.

The really sad thing was that no one seemed to be enjoying themselves. Maybe it was the all-day drunk (you really have to train yourself for things like that), or maybe the fact that Marshall lost on a really bad play as time expired, or maybe it was just something in the air, but nobody was having a good time. I don’t understand why you stay in a crowded bar, spending money and getting drunk, if you aren’t enjoying yourself doing it.

There was couple near us, over by the pool table, that argued at top volume for an hour. Even in that crowded place, with music and games and people shouting to be heard over the racket, the voices of this couple just boomed, and they were driving us nuts. It got so bad that Justin was threatening to beat the guy up. I mean, seriously; once you reach that point, it’s time to drag your tired ass home. Folks were acting like my ten-year-old brothers act when they haven’t had their naps.

Anyway, Katy and Justin left early because it was simply too aggravating to be there, but Emily stuck around, along with Tim, and Brooke and her entourage showed up late (she had driven to Morgantown to watch WVU beat up on some I-AA patsy or another), so not a total loss.

And Katy said she might stick around an extra day or so and see us on Monday night, but no such luck. It would have been nice if she'd been able, as it turned out, because the bar was dead on Monday, in spite of the opening MNF game of the season. I guess everybody wore themselves out over the weekend. Anyway, we could all have hung out and talked without being disturbed, an opportunity I hate to have missed. But, she promised to catch up on the blog when she got home, so that’s not a total loss, either.

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Okay, just because I love to pick on Rick (Man-on-Dog) Santorum, I’m gonna include this bit from what I sincerely hope was an impromptu discussion a few days ago (not that he's much less of a moron when uses prepared statements). Talking about the people who were unwilling or unable to get out of New Orleans, he said, “You have people who don't heed those warnings and then put people at risk. ... There may be a need to look at tougher penalties on those who decide to ride it out.” As Will Durst finished the thought for him, “and when I say tough penalties, I mean worse than drowning in your attic.”

Durst doesn’t stop there. He quotes Dennis Hastert, the Speaker of the House, saying that he doesn’t see the point of rebuilding New Orleans (did I mention that this is the SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE?!?!?). He also nails the President’s mother, a tough old bat who I usually like even though I don’t think she’s a particularly good person (I’ve always had a thing for tough old bats; that’s probably my Gramma’s fault). Anyway, she’s an intelligent woman, and she’s usually at least clued-in, so I don’t know what on Earth she could have been thinking when she said, of the people stranded in the Superdome in 100-degree heat without food or water and surrounded by corpses and toxic waste: “So many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them.”

The thing I like best about this Administration (and its assorted hangers-on, like Pat Robertson) is that, no matter how bad things get, you can always lighten the dark days by making fun of their cynical, ham-handed, alternate-universe cluelessness.

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A small victory over electronics: I was listening to Dvořák (specifically the “Serenade for Strings,” opus 22) while typing this. He’s one of my favorite composers, but I hated writing about him because that [ř] symbol doesn’t have a keyboard shortcut, so to spell his name you either have to use “insert” off the menu (I never use the menu if I don’t absolutely have to) or put his name on the clipboard and paste it in every time you use it. But I finally got around to programming my own shortcut for it, and now I can write “Dvořák” as much as I want. Fear me.

Anyway, things are looking up a little bit. It’s been a week since I last wrote to you guys (not counting the piece I cribbed from Sojourner for you), and the resetting is picking up a little bit of steam. Drink totals for the week:

Thursday—Nothing. Straight-up.
Friday—One pitcher of beer.
Saturday—Two bottles of beer with lunch, and a pitcher that night.
Sunday—Nothing. Not a drop
Monday—One beer at lunch, and half a bottle of wine.
Tuesday—A little bit more nothing.

And tonight I’m not drinking anything, at least not yet, though I do still have the other half of that wine at home. There was no day when I drank excessively, and (if I in fact don’t drink tonight) there will have been four completely alcohol-free days! My friends, that’s pretty good. I mean, it isn’t as good as it should be, or as good as I might have expected coming into this, but compared to the kind of creeping hopelessness of the last couple of weeks, it’s pretty damn good. Moreover, I’ve been a good citizen even when I’ve been drunk, which has to be a good sign.

I don’t like to admit the main reason I’ve been able to cut down this past week, but I suppose I will: I’ve been really dedicating myself to my research job. Every moment I’m not working in the library, eating, or sleeping, I’ve tried to spend doing research (well, except for seeing the out-of-towners this weekend and watching Empire Records again last night). I don’t want to be one of those horrible men who depends on his job for his self-worth (usually in a figurative sense, though for me right now it’s literally true, as well), but at the moment my job is a convenient crutch. And it’s a suitable one, anyway, because as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, drinking was beginning to affect my work, so this is a chance to make up for that lack of diligence and responsibility while helping myself. So, good news for Russ and Chip, if I haven’t already screwed this project up too much.

With the resetting going well, I’m not only doing better but also feeling better (though it’s hard to sleep on nights I don’t drink…I didn’t get any sleep last night at all) and am less prone to dark thoughts. And I’ve had my Labor Day shave, a little bit late (had to wait for the head injury I wrote about a couple of weeks ago to heal), which gives me a whole new face; and I’m still fairly new at the Music Library, so it feels a little bit like starting a whole new chapter in my life.

I look so much forward to summer every year, but this one hasn’t been the best, and I’m ready for it to be over now. The coming autumn seems somehow full of promise, as if I was climbing a steep slope in the deep shadow of the early morning, but there’s just a hint of light overhead, signaling that the rising sun is just over the crest of the hill; and I am very eager to see it. Although, as a night person, and someone who prefers the moon to the sun on general principle (aside from the fact that, as the year gets older, there will less and less sun), perhaps I’d better rethink that analogy. Damn. I liked it, too. If I think of anything to take its place, I’ll let you know. Love to all.

Good Movies and Cheap Wine

I read an Op-Ed piece in the Times today, which is the best thing I’ve read about New Orleans yet. Rather than linking to their website (the link would go bad after a week) I’ve reprinted it and put it here, if you’d like to read it.

Just found out that Helen Hunt was supposed to get the role of Tully Sorenson in Barfly, but the director wanted a more experienced actress (afraid she’d be overwhelmed by Faye Dunaway and Mickey Rourke), so he went with Alice Krige instead. Which is okay, ‘cause I like Alice Krige, but now I’m kind of interested to see how Helen Hunt would have done in the role.

Also, given that Helen Hunt had been acting since she was a small girl, did Alice Krige really have more experience? I went to IMDb and checked; Krige had done six movies and two TV miniseries before Barfly was produced. Hunt had done eight big-screen movies and something like forty TV movies and shows. More experienced in what sense, exactly?

I mention this out of the blue, of course. Apropos of nothing.

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Still fighting, and losing, the Battle of the Bottle. I’m in a thing now where I don’t drink at all for a day or two, and then go on a binge. That’s not good, really…although most of my drinking lately has consisted of binges, so perhaps it’s good that I’m down to two or three of them a week.

Labor Day was such an occasion, but then, it was Labor Day, and if you read my post from Monday commemorating the only holiday I really like, you probably expected me to do some drinking. Two pitchers and at least four shots (they all started to run together after a bit), plus most of a bottle of wine after the bar closed. That doesn’t sound much like cutting back, does it?

I’m not sure that it could really even be honestly said that I’m fighting a losing battle. Truth be told, I don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight at all. I freely admit that I don’t have a lot of willpower where liquor is concerned, but usually these resetting periods go pretty smoothly, and I’m not sure why it isn’t this time.

Anyway, as Churchill said in exasperation to his commanders at Dunkirk, “Of course if one side fights and the other does not, the war is apt to become somewhat uneven.” I am trying most of the time, but when I give up, I give completely up. I don’t really know what to do about this, except to wait it out and see if this mood goes away, or my drinking resolves itself somehow.

* * * * * * *

So, anyway, yeah, not going that well. I’ve been reading old posts the last couple of days, and I ran across the one where Christy was calling me her “life coach.” Man, that seems like a long time ago.

I had my doubts about the title back then, if you’ll recall. About the only thing I could find to recommend myself was that I was happy, regardless of what was going on in my life. Admittedly, that’s a powerful argument…probably a lot of people with “better” lives than mine wish they could be as happy as I was in April & May.

I don’t suppose I’m necessarily unhappy now, either. I’ve searched myself and can’t really find any sadness. But things come up, things change, and sometimes life gets kind of heavy. That’s where I’m at now. Life gets too heavy, so you just kind of set it aside for a moment. You aren’t so much depressed as worn out and empty.

Which is okay, as far as it goes. But you drink to fill both time and that empty space, and then the drinking makes you further detached from life, which makes you want to drink more. So it builds up. Difficult cycle to break, and right now I haven’t the energy, or even really the desire. There’s just kind of a vague sense that I should put a stop to this and soon, but no vague feeling could be strong enough to motivate me. Deep conviction is needed, and I have none.

So, back to the life coach thing. I can’t swear that it would ever have been an appropriate position for me to fill, but I’m quite sure that I can’t do it now. Christy, to her credit, seems to have reached the same conclusion; I haven’t heard from her in a while.

What it comes down to is that at the moment I’ve got nothing to offer anyone, except maybe sometimes writing something well. And I need to stop writing about this particular subject, because I don’t want this to turn into an AA blog.

* * * * * * *

So I’m writing this at the Union. It’s Trivia Night, so it’s busy and I’m rapidly getting full of whiskey. Unfortunately, none of my friends came ‘round tonight except Timmy, and he’s busy shooting pool. But you can’t leave on Trivia Night, ‘cause you paid your $5.00 for the all-you-drink special and you have to stay long enough to drink your money’s worth. So here I sit, writing. On the plus side, I now know that the longest-running TV show about an animal was Lassie, and that the first network kids’ show was Captain Kangaroo.

I have, as I mentioned, been drinking too much recently, but I haven’t just been sitting around doing nothing and getting wasted, and I suppose there’s something to be said for that. No, I’ve been reading and watching lots of movies. You wouldn’t be interested in what I’m reading, ‘cause it’s been research-related, mostly congressional debates from 30 and 40 years ago.

Some of the movies have been awesome, though. Tuesday was an all-day movie fest, ‘cause I didn’t feel like getting up. I had a serious lineup of films…I had intended to have a “blast from the past” night, but actually I sandwiched three new movies between two old favorites. I started the shindig off with a ‘90’s favorite, Party Girl.

How has this become a forgotten movie? Parker Posey is just brilliant in it. I know she hasn’t done a lot of great movies since, but this was really a shining moment for her. Plus, you get to see Liev Schreiber before anyone knew who he was. I’ll admit that the story can be disjointed at times (what does Rene have against Teddy Rogers, anyway?), and seems to miss a few things here and there, but come on! The main character is junked-out for most of the movie. What do you expect?

Everyone reading this should go out right now and rent Party Girl. Getting Empire Records wouldn’t hurt, either. I actually ended the night with this one, something happy to carry me into sleep, a little “Sugar High” to drift off to. Is anyone but me pissed off that Renée Zellweger’s part isn’t in the soundtrack version of that song? Still, that’s a minor complaint, and this is a straight-up brilliant film.

What a great group of characters. There isn’t really much of a story, and what there is doesn’t make much sense (really, if they could make enough to buy the store with a “save the Empire” show, why didn’t they do it years ago?), but you watch this one for the characters.

Liv Tyler’s character is a little bit dull (and who decided that she had to play a virgin in every movie she did in the nineties?), but everyone else is fantastic. I mean, Lucas’ Zen awakening is kind of the axis the movie turns on, but the movie would still be dull if it wasn’t for everyone else being so awesome. I love to watch the arguments and interactions between Gina and Debra (“No visible tattoos,” “No revealing clothing,” “We’re both screwed…at least you’re used to it.”) and Mark flipping out and AJ gluing money to the floor and Warren trying to act tough and Joe trying to keep everything together while resisting the impulse to strangle Lucas. It’s gotta be just about the best group of characters ever to appear on film.

I also caught Mulholland Drive , which I’ve been wanting to see for a long time. Now, I’m into the stranger films, and I can usually follow pretty convoluted plots. For David Lynch in particular I’ve got an affinity; he and I are frequently on the same wavelength. But I gotta say, this one got me. I was okay ‘til they opened the blue box. I could see things coming together, but as soon as she opened that box, I was done.

I could see what happens after as back-story, if it wasn’t for Naomi Watts changing roles. I mean, is that an artistic device of some kind? There must be a better explanation than that. I mean, there are some genuinely beautiful and gripping scenes (the show at the Club Silencio is really magnificent), but when the movie’s over you’re just kind of staring at the screen going, “What?”

If you’ve seen this movie, and you get it, clue me, okay? And if you haven’t seen it, well, I can’t really recommend it. Except if you want to see a topless Naomi Watts making out with another woman (and I know some of you do). But you can get similar things in most David Lynch films.

Four things typical of David Lynch’s work:

1. Large empty rooms with the actors at the far end;
2. Convoluted plots that may or may not make sense with or without the use of hallucinogenics;
3. Music by Angelo Badalamenti; and
4. Quasi-sex scenes that give my mother nightmares.

Well, okay, and he sometimes intentionally directs actors to turn in over-the-top, high-school-play-type performances, like the scene in the airport early in this one. That’s beside the point. The point is, once Betty becomes Diane Selwyn, I’m lost. So lend a brother a hand if you’re able.

I watched Darkness, as well, because I’ve got a bad thing for Anna Paquin (and have had since she was a ten-year-old doing commercials, which I probably shouldn’t admit in public). Anyhow, I liked it. I thought it was well-shot, and although I’ve never been a Lena Olin fan I thought it was well-casted; in fact, I even liked her in it.

The story was a bit trite, though. I mean, aren’t we done with the ritual sacrifice of children yet? And since it was immediately obvious that Iain Glen’s character was the escapee from the original massacre, the ending was a bit predictable as well. And when they tried to add a twist to his death it just seemed kind of stilted. I’ve got no problem with everyone dying at the end (my favorite movie is Night of the Living Dead, after all), but I thought it could have been done better. In other words, I loved everything but the last half-hour. It was still worth seeing.

And I finally got to see Sin City. I’ve heard so much about how violent this film is, but really, I think that was all exaggeration. I mean, it is violent, but I’ve seen far more violent films in my time. And not just “B” horror films and Tromo efforts; many major pictures are bloodier, like the Kill Bill movies. I mean, yeah, it’s gory in bits, like Elijah Wood getting eaten by dogs, but really…

And the thing is, it was a damn good film, and somehow the violence is all people talk about. That’s just silly. The cinematography was absolutely brilliant, and though I might have cast a few parts differently, no one can say that they couldn’t get the stars to come out for this picture. But, you know, you cut Benecio Del Toro to pieces, and that’s all anybody remembers.

And that was Tuesday. Please note, by the way, that I watched five movies and NOT A SINGLE ZOMBIE, so don’t tell me I only watch zombie movies. Anyway, I’m gonna leave you people and get a bit of work done, but I’ll leave you with another trivia question Jimbo asked while I was writing this: What was unusual about the band “Electric Mayhem”? If you don’t know the answer without checking this link, then you obviously completely mis-spent your childhood, and I don’t want you reading my blog anymore. Cheers.

The People's Day

So it’s Labor Day. This is my favorite holiday, though that isn’t saying much, since I don’t really like any of the others particularly. But Labor Day is my day; for the good Socialist it’s like Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter all rolled into one .

Most people don’t even really think about what Labor Day is all about, because Charlie Brown never had a special with Linus walking on stage to give a speech about the true meaning of Labor Day. Most folks just get drunk and have cookouts and ogle people wearing revealing clothes for just about the last time 'til spring. When I was younger this bothered me a little bit, kinda the way the born-agains get mad over Santa Claus. Veterans complain that no one remembers them on Memorial Day, and I suppose I wanted something similar to bitch about. I mean, why isn’t everyone singing the praises of Eugene Debs and Big Bill Haywood and Mother Jones?

But I’ve evened out on that some as I’ve gotten older. The principal reason for this is that, after years of reflection on the history of organized labor in this country, I’ve come to realize that our Labor Day activities really do honor the day properly. In order to explain why, I’ll have to tell you the story of Labor Day. I promise to keep it short.

* * * * * * *

The struggles of organized labor began in force in the 19th century, and it was (and remains) a long and bloody struggle. Every gain that was made by American workers was the result of a desperate fight, every day, step by step, and gradually the workers started to make progress (things like weekends, pensions, and workplace safety rules) and increase their bargaining power and political protection. Still, they had such a long way to go. They felt that they needed something, not only to recognize the steps forward that the movement had been able to take, but to grab the attention of American workers and rally people to the cause for all the work still undone.

Some clever boy (I don’t know who; actually, it might have been a clever girl) had the brilliant idea of calling a general one-day work stoppage. It seemed a little bit crazy at first, effectively striking without any demands, but the idea spread and had broad appeal among the laboring class. So, the leadership of various organizations got together and decided to go ahead with the idea. They settled on the first Monday in September as the target date.

I don’t think management took all this talk very seriously. But on that first Monday, back in 1882, thousands and thousands of workers just plain didn’t show up at their factories or their shipyards or wherever. The Central Labor Union in New York had arranged a picnic and demonstration. A huge crowd of workers gathered and the meeting turned into an impromptu parade through Manhattan, stopping outside the houses of the great capitalist families, like the Astors. A wonderful time was had by all; I imagine the mood was something like that at the first Thanksgiving.

The whole thing went so well that someone suggested they do it again the following year. And it went well again, and they did it the year after that. It caught on all over the country; by 1885 most of the nation's industrial centers observed the holiday. Every year they did it, and every year the number of workers taking the day off grew and grew, until American industry found itself crippled on the first Monday of each September.

Finally, Congress (which as a body would much rather follow than lead) decided to give official notice to this new tradition, and in 1894 they declared that the first Monday every September would be Labor Day, a Federal holiday (a few states had already recognized the day). Once the holiday was codified, most industries followed suit, and they got to feel very good about themselves, because they were being so nice to the workers, giving them a day off and all.

But nobody gave these workers this holiday. They took it. For the first and only time in American history, the people gave themselves a holiday. And the original proposal for the holiday talked about how it should be observed: a street parade to exhibit to the public "the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations" of the community, followed by a festival for the recreation and amusement of the workers and their families. [A big thanks to the Department of Labor for some of this information.]

* * * * * * *

So, that’s where Labor Day came from. And if you want to know how best to celebrate the day, do it by doing whatever you want to do. Go to the beach, go to the movies, get stoned, make love. Hang out with your friends, catch a show, take a long drive through the countryside or a hike in the mountains. Rampage in the park with a bottle of wine and a frisbee. Drink whiskey and eat lots of good food, or just fucking sleep all day. What ever you feel like doing, do it, and make sure you're frivolous and stupid about it. This is your day, the day of the American worker, and the way to honor it and the men and women who fought and suffered and died to give you this day, and the rights you enjoy which are represented by this day, is to enjoy yourself. That was, in fact, their intention.

Me, I’m gonna sleep ‘til about four, and then I’m gonna make myself one of my special shrimp pizzas, and then I’m heading for the bars. And my first drink will be to those who came before and made all my joys and freedoms possible. And then I'll have a whole lot more drinks, and celebrate my day, our day, in the manner that suits me best. And really, I'm pretty sure that's all they'd want in their honor.

A Brave But Hopeless Fight

Oh, goodness, am I pissed off.

I just got done reading today’s New York Times. According to a new poll (I should stop reading polls, ‘cause I always get pissed off about something), 42 percent of Americans are strict creationists. Now, I’m not talking about people who think God created the world and evolution is part of his grand scheme, or anything like that. I’m talking about people who believe that “living beings have existed in their present form since the beginning of time.” People who believe that evolution simply does not exist. Period. Read that statement in quotation marks again, the one they all decided best expressed their opinion. There is no other way to interpret it than to say that these people, nearly half our population, believe evolution is bullshit, a false theory top-to-bottom and beginning-to-end.

I’m an adult. I’m aware that intelligent people can have divergent views, and that the fact that someone disagrees with me does not automatically make that person an idiot. But really, as far as evolution goes, have these people not been paying attention for the last century and a half? Evolution is real, it is really where we come from, and it is the exact reason why life in all its diversity exists on this planet. Get over it.

If this offends your religious beliefs, I'm sorry (well, not really). If you want to believe that some god created all the matter in the universe and crammed it all together really densely so we could have a Big Bang, that’s fine with me. Hell, it might even be true, though I don’t believe it myself. If you want to believe that evolution is part of God’s plan, that in the laws of genetics we’re seeing the divine brushstrokes on life’s canvas, that’s okay too. But make no mistake; whether it’s a simple physical algorithm or the design of some deity, evolution is the real thing. Its reality cannot be denied by any intelligent, honest observer.

If I may, I’ll let Dan Dennett weigh in here:

The fundamental core of contemporary Darwinism, the theory of DNA-based reproduction and evolution, is now beyond dispute among scientists. It demonstrates its power every day, contributing crucially to the explanation of planet-sized facts of geology and meteorology, through middle-sized facts of ecology and agronomy, down to the latest microscopic facts of genetic engineering. It unifies all of biology and the history of our planet into a single grand story. Like Gulliver tied down in Lilliput, it is unbudgeable, not because of some one or two huge chains of argument that might—hope against hope—have weak links in them, but because it is securely tied by hundreds of thousands of threads of evidence anchoring it to virtually every other area of human knowledge. New discoveries may conceivably lead to dramatic, even “revolutionary” shifts in the Darwinian theory, but the hope that it will be “refuted” by some shattering breakthrough is about as reasonable as the hope that we will return to a geocentric vision and discard Copernicus…

The evidence for evolution pours in, not only from geology, paleontology, biogeography, and anatomy (Darwin’s chief sources), but of course from molecular biology and every other branch of the life sciences. To put it bluntly but fairly, anyone today who doubts that the variety of life on this planet was produced by a process of evolution is simply ignorant—inexcusably ignorant, in a world where three out of four people have learned to read and write.[i]

* * * * * * *

There’s been a lot of talk lately about evolution and whether it should be taught in the schools, or whether it should be taught alongside “intelligent design” creationism. The President definitely thinks so, because he says “that part of education is to expose people to different schools of thought." This is true, of course, and I’ll skip over the irony of hearing these words from this supremely incurious and close-minded man.

For the moment we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend he believes what he’s saying. Even so, he’s wrong in this case, because the only thing that should be taught in a science class is actual science. And my friends, intelligent design ain’t it. As Dennett notes in a separate article, “no intelligent design hypothesis has even been ventured as a rival explanation of any biological phenomenon. This might seem surprising to people who think that intelligent design competes directly with the hypothesis of non-intelligent design by natural selection. But saying, as intelligent design proponents do, 'You haven't explained everything yet,' is not a competing hypothesis. Evolutionary biology certainly hasn't explained everything that perplexes biologists. But intelligent design hasn't yet tried to explain anything.”[ii]

If you want to teach children about the “debate” between creationists and evolutionists, teach it where it belongs, in a Political Science or civics class. This argument has nothing at all to do with science. And, to tell you the truth, I don’t think it has very much to do with religion, either.

Follow me on this: I don’t know if the people pushing intelligent design really even believe in it themselves, though certainly the people following them do. I don’t think you could pull off a hoax like this if you weren’t pretty sure what the actual facts were; it would like running a pyramid scheme without knowing about money. I am skeptical about the beliefs of the people behind this “intelligent design” effort. I think this is part of a political agenda rather than a matter of faith for them. The leaders on the right may not actually be religious people, but they all have to use religion to get their agenda in motion.

Personally, I blame Karl Marx (or, more accurately, the frequent misinterpretation of his work) and the Soviets (to a far greater extent) for this. Marx famously called religion the “opiate of the masses.” Now, Marx had no faith himself, but he wasn’t condemning religious belief in and of itself. He was condemning the power of the priesthood. Marx saw the priesthood in the same way he saw the capitalist class, as a group keeping the people powerless. The Bolsheviks took this idea and ran with it, to the point of basically destroying the Russian church after the revolution.

Because the Bolsheviks were radical leftists, conservatives around the world came to identify all leftists with this movement, which makes as much sense as identifying all conservatives with fascists. The idea was that any liberal had necessarily to be Godless and anti-church. This isn’t true; I’ve known many very religious liberals, including most of my family, but due to the constant harping of this theme from conservatives for the last 150 years, it is widely believed. It follows, according to the logic of the Right, that anything that strengthens religion weakens the Left. Therefore, for a lot of the leadership on the right, campaigns like “intelligent design” and the elimination of evolution from school curricula (to say nothing of posting the Ten Commandments in our schools and courthouses and related infringements on the freedom of religion) serve a political purpose that doesn’t actually have anything to do with the religious beliefs being stressed.

In other words, these irresponsible people are keeping our nation’s children stupid for cynical political gain. This is why, although I’m not really mad at my friend Tom (a creationist), I’m severely and perpetually angry at people like Bill Frist and Tom DeLay. If the only way you can cement power is by distortion, at the expense of schoolchildren, you shouldn’t have power at all.

* * * * * * *

So, it’s been a week since I declared my intention to cut back on my drinking for a while. I know you’re all just dying to find out how that’s gone. Has it been a success? Well, that depends on how you define “success.”

Certainly I’ve had less to drink over the last week than I had been drinking immediately prior to the decision. So that’s something, anyway. On the other hand, I’m still drinking more than I should be. I didn’t drink at all on Friday, and on Saturday had just the two beers, as according to plan. But it was all downhill from there:

Sunday—A whole bottle of cheap wine.

Monday—Ditto.

Tuesday—Two beers and three glasses of whiskey

Wednesday—Trivia Night. Lots and lots of whiskey and water at the Union. Dunno how much, but at least seven.

So, a lot more than I’m supposed to be having. Last night (Thursday) I didn’t drink anything at all…a small victory in a war I’m bound to lose. I checked out Leaving Las Vegas last night in hopes of inspiration, but I doubt that will work any better than my frequent rewatching of Barfly does. It definitely doesn't help to see a drunk as a romantic hero. By this time tomorrow I'll see in myself a picture of the doomed struggle of all humanity against an uncaring and deteriorating Universe.

I feel a bit like Bridget Jones, reporting my daily alcohol intake like this. It’s too bad I didn’t count my cigarettes yesterday, or the amount of calories I ingested (as far as calories go, I wouldn’t know how). Incidentally, if Bridget Jones is supposed to be a fairly plain, somewhat dumpy young woman, why in the world did the producers get Renée Zellweger (one of the sexiest women on Earth) to play her?

Anyway, yeah, a losing battle with the booze. I do this resetting thing once or twice a year, but it usually goes much more smoothly than this. I seem to have fallen into a self-destructive pattern; I thought I had outgrown the tendency to do this. Back in my early twenties, when I was devastated by the breakup of my relationship with Bonnie Sioux, I was like this, but I didn’t think it would ever happen again; frankly, I didn’t think anyone else could hurt me that much (if you’ll pardon my being soft for a moment). It’s been a tough summer, and I’ve needed a crutch.

I guess all I can do is try not to drink too much tonight, and then try not to drink too much tomorrow, and not set any particular limits in time or quantity. I wonder if that’s a cliché. I’ve never attended an AA meeting (nor do I ever plan to), so if anyone out there has, please enlighten me on which truisms are current with that crowd.

I don’t want to quit drinking, but I’d like alcohol to be a companion rather than a crutch. I’m having trouble working out the difference, though…the boundary isn’t as clear as I’d like it to be. Whiskey should come with an owner’s manual, although it could be argued that the owner’s manual for drinking is already printed firmly in my head, and I just choose not to refer to it as often as I ought. Certainly no one has more experience than I have in that area.

* * * * * * *

Anyway, all that being said, I’m off to visit Nikki at the Union, prior to getting together with my brother to pirate a few DVDs. Well, pirate is too strong a word, really. What I want to do is put them on videocassettes. See, I’ve got all these eight-hour cassettes, and it’s great for TV shows. I’ve already fit the whole first season of Cheers onto one, and now I’m working on the West Wing and some more Cheers. But those bastards in the DVD industry put that stupid copyguard thing on a lot of the discs (though not the West Wing…I love those people), so before I can tape them I have to rip the DVD with the copyguard removed. It’s very aggravating, ‘cause it takes like two or three hours to do one disc. Still, it’s worth it. And I don’t feel even a little bit guilty, ‘cuase I’m doing this for myself, and not to sell the copies like the Chinese do. I paid for these damn things, and I want every episode on a single tape so I don’t have to constantly change discs or whatever. If the companies don’t like it, they can sue me (as I’m sure they will if they find out). Anyway, got to go. Love to all. Wish me luck in the losing battle, though so far the wishes aren’t doing me much good. I appreciate them anyway.

[i] Dennett, Daniel C., Darwin’s Dangerous Idea, Simon & Schuster, 1995 (pp. 18, 46).
[ii] Dennett, Daniel C., “Show Me The Science,” New York Times, 8/28/5.