Fuck: He Missed

"You want the young American
You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Caddy and a lady's got a Chrysler
Black's got respect, and white's got his Soul Train
Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache
(I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man who can say "no more"?
Ain't there a woman I can sock in the jaw?"

-- David Bowie, in the song Young Americans, which just seemed right for this pitying story on model Sophie Anderton's recent troubles - notice how she's wrapped just-so, with even her glasses up, to expose her wounds? - in The Daily Mail.

Needless to say - since my divorce, immersion in NewAge feminist thought (I'm currently reading a very-confused, sneering, book, The Bitch in the House: 26 Women Tell The Truth About Sex, Solitude, Work, Motherhood, and Marriage) along with an equally-careful reading of the song lyrics I hear most often - this "Young American" has grown extremely skeptical of such stories.

Who knows what a woman will do, to drive a man to treat her as one man would another, when they act like unforgiving assholes? We don't - though there's ample proof feminists will lash out, engage in misandry, acts of betrayal (sexual and otherwise) and basically be a "bitch" (their word) for no good reason - except to hurt those closest to them. But, somehow, I'm asked to feel sorry for these people because they, maybe, got a fucking shiner in return? Sorry. Tell me the whole story, in context, or leave it out of the media:

My sympathy for women as victims - and I did have some - is just about all used up.

The Missing Links (Between My World And Yours)

There's a story going around, wrongly saying Patrick Swayze is dying of cancer, and it really depresses me. But not for the obvious reasons:

I've known for a long time that Patrick Swayze is a total NewAger - prone to believing all the nonsense that goes with that designation - but I also know he's married to a woman, Lisa, who isn't. So, being a feminized NewAger, I'm pretty sure the reason he's tackling (and beating?) cancer with conventional treatments - the same ones that have been keeping Elizabeth Edwards alive - is because his "strong" wife is insisting on it. It is she who keeps the quacks and wackos away from her "believer" of a husband.

What's depressing me is knowing I'm a "macho" guy, who was married to a NewAge woman, and seeing how the switch in roles plays out.

Instead of being able to keep the idiots away from her, I've been roundly condemned for trying to not have her fed to the lions, which - as we all know by now - I failed at. There were (and still are) just too many people against me who believed her husband (AKA "a man") had no place giving counsel (AKA "controlling") any aspect of his wife's life - because, marriage or no marriage, she was a "free spirit" who had right to be selfish - no matter what that meant to my devoting my life to her.

These people (out of my earshot) were more than happy to subversively undermine my marriage, and - when it was finally crumbling into ruins - say so openly, because I didn't/couldn't/wouldn't go for their bullshit.

And now my ex-wife has broken my heart, destroyed my life, and is with a NewAge quack who created the opening necessary for the two of them to kill three people - the first being my mother-in-law - which also cuts me in half, whether I liked the racist old horse or not.

Ladies and Gentlemen, excuse me but - I'm a talented artist, an atheist, and a rationalist - so my life was NOT supposed to play out this way. I worked too fucking hard. I expected more.

I crawled through the fucking broken glass of backward-ass ghetto life, and cultish racial beliefs, and the Alice In Wonderland politics of liberalism. I served my country and, with decades of study, honed my craft. I tried to marry well. I tried to be a good man. And I've been forced to pay a heavy price for all that effort by NewAgers.

I still am being forced to pay for it as they go about their dirty work.

When I read the reviews of Cadillac Records, I feel like the descriptions of Howling Wolf, Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry, and Etta James are actually talking about me. I swear like them; I share their talent, volatility, and values. And I see the NewAgers I encounter (online and off) as doing their damnedest to knock that creative spark out of me. It won't work (I'm not my silly-assed wife) but they do try.

I've pointed out, countless times, how bad art is becoming under NewAge. Music especially, because it's not a genre that should be playing by any of NewAge's rules.

Music isn't about record sales or videos, but pure emotion - and we all know how important "feelings" are to NewAgers. We're suffering artistically because they're insisting it's their feelings that matter. They're the ones who are forcing art to be about sex. They're the ones who are forcing art to be about celebrity. They're the ones who are forcing art to always be about the lowest common denominator possible. And we're better than that - I know it - and that knowledge won't be beaten out of me like it's been beaten out of others. I'm fucking better than that.

I was raised a foster child, and like all foster children (especially the latest most famous one) the idea seems to be that we've been put here merely to be abused by men and women - society, really - without anyone admitting that abuse is actually happening. But I will not be silent about what I've experienced or what I see happening out there: you people are sick, and I don't have time for your self-reverential pastel-colored "beliefs" about yourselves any longer. You're the cruelest of liars and fools.

So go on: tell someone else about the importance of being "humble" before you - a demand you don't ever make of black women - because, just like the church-going black women who raised me, I ain't got time for your bullshit: you're a bunch of liars and I will stay my own man. I don't need no belief system, no guru, no cult, or support group - like my heroes (and true peers), the first black Rock 'N' Roll artists, I need to be a free man - because that's what now sustains me. That, and my hatred for all you've created and done. Black president or no, you don't fool me.

And with that, I guess I'll end my little rant by saying I think the rest of y'all can go straight to Hell.

U.F.O. Tofu And Liberal Childcare

I overheard a conversation between a liberal mom and her pre-schooler the other day:

Mom: "So what do you want to eat tonight?"

(I'm thinking: this kid has a choice?)

Kid: "Pizza!"

Mom: "Don't you want some tofu?"

Kid: "Pizza!"

Mom: "But I made lots of tofu,..."

Kid (angry): "I want pizza!"

Mom: "O.K., you can have pizza and I'll have tofu."

Kid: "O.K."

And that's all that needs to be said. Except, considering tofu, I'm glad the kid had a choice after all,....

Chop Off Your Ear And Then I'll Believe You

“The notion that everyone has a calling, that everyone has a talent, that everyone has a passion, isn’t true. I didn’t understand that.”

- Meg Wolitzer, Novelist, providing the most clear-headed quote of the day, in the New York Times

Hate all you want, people, but not everyone's an artist - or even talented. (Watch "American Idol" for proof.) And NewAgers are the worst; thinking their silly hand-waving, and crystal-gazing, is art when being an artist takes a level of talent, and dedication, that they can't even start to imagine committing to - otherwise they'd be applying it to something real. Not just some shit you've got to believe in.

Fucking losers.

O.K., Once More,...With Feeling

"Beyonce is the poster girl for what is wrong with the music business and the Grammys. If she is the reason you are tuning in, you need to get out more."

- John B, writing for the L.A. Times' Extended Play Music News.

Or if you're like me, you prefer to stay in to avoid it all. Honestly, I don't own any Beyonce songs, except for "Crazy In Love", and that's just because they flipped the sample - not because of her.

Really. I don't think Beyonce's a compelling artist; I don't find her the least bit attractive and, frankly, women like her bore me.

A lot of music - or today's popular music - bores me. (I was one of those who turned down the sound when Alicia Keys played the Super Bowl.) Like the Self-Help con artists, these "tastemakers" need to look somewhere else if they need a tool for this.

I heard part of the Foo Fighters Grammy-nominated album - and wondered how it's been tolerated, much less "nominated" for something. The last Radiohead album? Good thing they gave it away because I never would have paid for it.

I think the last song I found worthy of running out and paying for was T.V. On The Radio's "mystical" single, "Wolf Like Me", but all I bought was the single - the album was as bad as the video:



I don't know which is worst today: The artists - or the public's taste. I think it's the artists because the public always moves when I perform so there's only so much blame to go around. The public isn't being offered enough good material - but they're also guilty of only searching through a limited self-selection when digging is called for.

Check out Yundi Li (above) playing the 2nd movement of Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 1, and see if that *certain something* isn't in there for you because, I swear, it is for me:



I ain't gone all hioty-toity with that, but I just like music and don't care what segment of the spectrum it comes from. The way Li's fingers glide across the keyboard; the joy he's getting from what he's doing - plus it's grandeur - all come through, in an almost "personal" sound, and that's what's important to me.

I can just as easily hear it in Punk, too, but for different (more aggressive) reasons. For instance, here's The Jam doing "A-Bomb On Waldorf Street":



That shit floored me the first time I heard it. (Full disclosure: None of these videos do justice to the studio recordings.)

And I haven't heard a great Rap album in so long I'm starting to wonder if it's truly over. But only a fool would count Rap out because - like Jazz - it's still the life blood of the party.

I'll just keep playing my old Run DMC albums until somebody figures something out,....