Obnoxious

For most of my adult life, since first being subjected to, quite literally, 'music free commercial marathons' on New York City radio in the late 1980s, I've opted out as a radio listener.

To me, there is nothing -- no thing -- more grating, like nails on a chalkboard or through the skull, than a shouting, hyped-up radio ad.  Annoyingly crass, too often unfunny, always talking too fast and demanding I hear ... There has been, and remains, no single thing that will make me move quicker to turn off or unplug an inaminate object, than an obnoxious and overlong music- and energy-sucking commercial on non-public radio.

Inasmuch, society's "hits" have never meant anything to me.  I couldn't say thirty years ago what you, as a kid, were 'dancing' to; I certainly can't tell you now.

Wait, that's untrue.  In fact, I'm "hipper" today ... better informed musically, from a societal (or "Top 40") perspective, than I was in that era when U2, Whitney Houston, Roxette and Lisa Lisa -- and Crazy Eddie -- all shared the airwaves and vied for attention.

This, of course, has as much to do with social media, as it does the little "rugrat" vying for my attention (guilelessly bopping now to One Republic :) ... not only the Internet, but the prevalence of Things.  Music -- news, weather, awareness in general -- seep in today, more than they ever were able to.

Today then, is a forced content (non-"on demand"), overly ad-serving platform like radio even necessary?

Along these lines ... Should anybody really be surprised about Beck winning Grammys in 2015?  Be asking, even jokily -- like Kanye stalking forth to claim "his" prize (for Beyonce!) -- "Who the fuck is Beck?"?

You know who Beck is!  Even you, little "Rugrat" ... Inconceivable back when Beck was 'losing', you're old enough now for 'lost' worlds to seep in ... You should add a Republic!  A Direction or two!  Become multi- ... Span generations.  Expand.

And above all, learn ...

to respect artistry.

B.M. and P.M.

"My pain may be the reason for somebody’s laugh. But my laugh must never be the reason for somebody’s pain." - Charlie Chaplin

I have nothing but respect for Monica Lewinsky.

As the World Wide Web's "Patient Zero", she has suffered... felt pain... Cried, and died inside daily.  She has waited for exactly the right time and place...

She has taken up arms against haters and hatred, and perfectly played now the cards she got dealt.

The standing ovation Monica Lewinsky received at the Forbes' 30 Under 30 Summit in Philadelphia... some empathy, finally... The (finally) respectful hearing of things from her perspective -- the listening, versus insulting of her -- was fifteen years or so overdue.

I remember a disturbingly blunt and offensively direct hit on the Lewinsky debacle's whistleblower, that pot-calling-the-kettle-black backstabber, Linda Tripp...

Perhaps not a beauty queen, Miss Tripp wound up on the cover of one of New York's beloved rags, either the News or the Post, under the coffee-spitting headline, "It's Getting Ugly!"

To me, it's always been those three words, coupled with the unflattering head shot of Linda Tripp chosen to be plastered there on that front page beneath them, which was responsible for birthing, nay, shitting out, the "internet era", and foreshadowing our Rudest Generation to come.

The gum-smacking wisecrack of that tabloid headline -- the bestial boyish New Yorkese, at the public expense of a then unmarried, middle aged, childless woman, though somebody's daughter -- I will never forget;

the cheap, easy laugh I admittedly shared (hot coffee snorting out of both nostrils) with millions on that New York City, '90s morning never did sit well... and now, fifteen years later, looking back over the world's "timeline" since then -- of cruelty and inane and desperate cries for attention, feeding (or fed by?) a nation's cracked psyche -- the Before and After demarcation has not been more clear to me.

Never mind September 11th.  Simply (perhaps simplistically) put, the breakpoint in recent history, in my recent memory, is Before Monica (B.M.), when there were discretion, decorum and manners still; and Post Monica (P.M.), when name-calling, trash-talking, hating (and/or Yelping) anonymously, buffoon inappropriateness and lazy discrediting became society's norms - and somehow, OKAY.

The world turns, though.  What goes around...

Today, more than fifteen years P.M., I'm no longer the only one publicly decrying an epidemic of Asshole.  Nor am I alone anymore in my appreciation of Monica Lewinsky, and tacit acknowledgment of our P.M. world's penchant for piling on and bullying, wolf pack overkill.

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the Tyler Clementi Foundation to stop online bullying.

the Amanda Todd Legacy Society Ryan's Story

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think

Another Black (and White) Eye

Lately, over the past ten years or so, in what are supposed to be "dog days" -- the world on vacation and sweating out (sitting out) the last weeks of summer (or August, in any case) -- full of unwatched news cycles ... traditionally, nobody paying attention ...

Since 2005 or so, our lazy hazy crazy last dayz of summer have unleashed Hurricane Katrina ... the NSA depths ... a tortured Robin Williams' soul (today, just weeks later, we pray for Joan Rivers) ...

And a fear-mongered, race-baited, hate-fueled carnival, belched from the bowels of flyover country ... setting things back again, erasing gains made.  Although happily, with the possible exception of Jon Stewart, most people in the U.S. have come to understand that RACE did not necessarily need to be played this time in Ferguson, Missouri.

Michael Brown was black and the cop is white.  So?

November 2014 grand jury decision:  We live in Turkey Times.

How twistedly "comforting"!  Convenient to too many.  A superb excuse!  For increasingly mobile, handily organized and bit-champing losers to get up and do something ... to whiff opportunity and  attack like wolves, a small town and pack of public protectors, scarcely equipped to handle such limelight ...

In fact, as the inciteful, typically ridiculous media coverage wore on (and on) this month, racial flames quickly wound up on the back burner, as video of Michael Brown robbing a convenience store surfaced ... the gunned down Michael Brown iconically wearing the exact same clothing -- right down to his flip-flops or whatever they were -- as he lay motionless, lifeless, in the street.

Was it "hunting season" to white cops in Ferguson?  Was (Is) Darren Wilson a vicious, predatory racist?  Or a police officer confronted by a large and menacing individual who was, by accounts, "walking down the middle of the street blocking traffic" ... and therefore, the police officer -- doing the job of any police officer, of any color, anywhere -- reached out to the large and menacing individual and said, "Stop doing that.  Stop walking down the middle of the street blocking traffic.  You're going to get hurt, or cause an accident and hurt others.  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?  Get out of the street!"

Now in such a situation, if the large and menacing individual pipes up either literally or figuratively and says, "NO", the situation becomes inherently escalated; tensions, automatically mounted.

If the large and menacing individual then advances toward the police officer, especially if instructed to stand still (or walk the other way and stop being a nuisance) ... Escalated.  If the large and menacing individual is sneering or snarling, or maybe swearing ... defiant in any way ... likewise, escalated.

At a certain point, whether or not the large and menacing individual is literally "armed and dangerous", he effectively becomes so.  If he's throwing punches, BOOM!

Guess what?  Escalated, to Danger from Nuisance:  intrinsically a threat to public safety ... as well as to himself, if there seems to be complete disregard for consequences, including his own welfare.

Michael Brown was caught on video roughing up a store owner; and then he decided to wander in traffic.  WHY?

If I did either of those things, I would expect a visit from police.  Because Michael Brown was not brandishing a weapon, it's somehow OKAY that he strong-armed a store owner, stole a few things and then wandered around, menacing drivers and police officers?  Because it was "his" neighborhood??  Because he wasn't "armed", he therefore couldn't be dangerous, to himself and others ... and such black and white thinking is really okay?

Michael Brown should have just been left alone, in other words, to enjoy his Saturday, and ignored by cops when he ignored and advanced toward them?

Really?

Should Michael Brown have been shot six times in the face of perceived threat (danger), given the fact that he himself was not armed?  A single bullet, a warning shot in the air, might have sufficed.

Should Michael Brown have been killed?  And then left to die in the street, uncovered for hours, like so much carrion?  Certainly not.

Were mistakes made by cops in the handling of this?  And those mistakes amplified, magnified, emotionalized, dramatized by a race-baiting media and incendiary public?

Yes and yes.  Yes.

And did Michael Brown happen to be black, and his killer, a small town police officer, white?

Sadly YES.

Armed & Dangerous

So sadly, here we go again ...

News at 11

Via some mid-summer bleakness in Salon, here are "10 examples of 'European exceptionalism' and areas in which Europe is way ahead of the United States."

1. Lower Incarceration Rates
2. Less Violent Crime Than the U.S.

3. Better Sex Education Programs, Healthier Sexual Attitudes

    [3.5. Better Sex]

4. Anti-GMO Movement Much More Widespread

5. Saner Approaches to Abortion

    [5.5. Better Sex]
6. More Vacation Time

7. Universal Healthcare

8. Greater Life Expectancy
9. Mass Transit Systems
10. Europeans More Likely to Speak Foreign Languages
    [10.5. Better Sex]

10 things America does so much worse than Europe

ADD THIS:
11. News / Journalism

... sucks in the United States.

'Twas ever thus.

We should be ashamed.

Zero Humanity + Daily Indignity =

Not Ann

I spoke last week with a friend of mine in Istanbul.  Ann has been living in Turkey for the past ten years or so.  Having just become a part-time expatriate myself, I was happy to catch up with her ... but decidedly less happy that our conversation kept returning to our country, and the stresses which lead to madness in America.

Every week, there's a pent-up release of bloodshed, a new "latest shooting" which makes the news.  Seventy-four school shootings in the U.S. since Sandy Hook.

...How many???

Seventy-four school shootings in the past eighteen months.  Doing some quick math, that's about four shootings per month ... or a deadly, public shooting each week!

One can only imagine the daily horrors ... the actual "latest" killings, updated on our collective akashic record, but otherwise ignored by the breathless who show up on TV for the 'big ones':  to furrow their brows and look "concerned", and gesticulate, holler, emote with weird voices and burp about gun control (... or not.  Too often, protecting our children falls by the wayside, with "fair and balanced" demands that we protect our 18th century right to bear arms.).

Though this sorry, and particularly American, state of telejournalism -- and its attendant looks, movements, voices, inflections, cackling, guffaws, fake camaraderie and endless transparency -- is in itself, a painful horror to watch ... the real daily horror, the every day pain Americans tend to inflict on each other -- the killings; the psychological need to harm or take life in America -- is not an "event", and therefore goes largely unreported.

What causes it?

My friend Ann and I were discussing this.  Neither of us will ever know, fully understand, live and breathe like second skins, our adopted cultures and imposed new languages - hers, Turkish, mine German.  The best that we'll be able to do, at this point in our mid-lives, is to try and comprehend our own ...

That is, American.

To be an American in this century, particularly, this decade, is to be slapped and assaulted and abused at each turn; to face zero humanity, suffer daily indignity ... To be stripped of privacy, financial freedom or any expectation of same.

Wait, let me explain:

From the "deposits" sucked off of your credit card balances -- to stay in a hotel room or rent a vehicle, say -- to being told you can't stay, or drive, if you don't have a "deposit".  Though your room, and your vehicle, are fully prepaid, the "deposit" may prevent you from staying or driving.  Unable to check in, then, you're out on the street!  Or unable to get where you're needing to go.

(And then you're insulted with semantics:

"It's only an 'authorization'.  You are not being charged, sir."

Oh.  That's OK then.  I don't have access to the $250 that you're "authorizing" in addition to payment -- I can't use it or buy anything with it, since it's being "held" -- and although it's been "authorized" from me immediately (not by me, mind you, but from me), it will take up to seven business days (!??) until it's returned to my credit or debit card and I'm able to spend it again.

Because you haven't CHARGED the amount, of course, thank God!  You're only "authorizing" it, correct?

I understand.  I'll just wait a week.)

... to being told, "I can't help you.", when you ask if the airline really needs the $30 fee for your carry-on bag.

"Why don't you ask the CEO?" you're actually asked, snidely in response, by a monstrous dismissive who can't give a fuck.  Clearly, this creature doesn't want to be there dealing with you, any more than you do, her ... Except it's her job to deal with you.  Courteously.  Professionally.

She fails at it daily.

When you try to complain, speak to anyone, someone ... You're only met with telephone "options" (all of which, "recently changed", of course!).  No human being to hear you screaming...

No common sense arguments need apply.  Just tap-tap-tap, computer says "NO!".

It's enough to make a grown man cry.  Or ...

Cold, War and Otherwise

Though spring has sprung in Deutschland, in the States, the cold weather's unrelenting and winter storms -- for some reason, christened like hurricanes now! -- keep howling and blowing.

Also howling and blowing is western media, every time there's a new "global conflict".  Usually so ridiculously narrow and self-interested, reporting breathlessly the "breaking" news of Oscar night parties, celebrity deaths (all too often, self-inflicted) ... and/or imperious, like dolts in a small town, poking fun at perceived foibles: "Sochi problems", for example, or an "inept" investigation (or the opposite: escalating random acts of breathing -- those naturally occurring, every day things we all do because we're supposed to, and most of us are wired that way -- into newsworthy, larger than life acts of "heroism") ...

Where was I?

Oh, right.  So usually the media, particularly in the US and UK, is carrying on this way, perpetuating its curious combination of smug isolationism and Big Stick condescension, the whole time relying on unpaid contributors to file "i-reports", in order to fill all the 24/7 content platforms) ... but Vladimir Putin "takes" Crimea, and suddenly, hot.cool.Sochi gets forgotten; the meaningful Paralympics all but ignored, and CNN and the US start clucking, 'What to do about UKRAINE?'.

Geopolitically speaking, the US should have nothing to do with Ukraine.  The people of Crimea are speaking, and they seem to prefer not to be part of 'the west'.  This (so far) peaceful expression of self-determination should be recognized, in fact, allowed.

Beyond this simple statement of what seems, to me, obvious, I offer no public opinion.  My thoughts on politics, like religion and like my home address, telephone number, love and sexual doings that actually matter to me, are private, and will remain that way ... at least until they matter less, and/or I am ready to "share" them.

Does this mean, though, that I can't opine?  I don't have a politcal thought, or opinion?

"Gloaming Looming", ©Jeff Glovsky

Once I was sitting outside a jazz club where I used to mix sound.  It was a beautiful spring night, and I stepped out of what was, at that time, the stereotypical smoke-filled room to gulp in some fresh air.  It was during a bass solo ... These always tended to go on forever anyway, so I figured I had a few minutes, at least, before the singer would come in again and start gesticulating (wildly) toward her ear, suggesting (none too subtly) that she wasn't able to hear herself, or the piano.

As I was sitting there, pleasantly digging the gloaming, this homeless guy shuffles up to me and says, "Nice night, huh?"  He sits down on the brownstone stoop beside me, and offers up something about the second Gulf War ...

Well, I'd always been taught, and took pains to adhere to, the common sense adage about not talking to strangers.  I took this literally, and to this day -- fast-tracking to fifty (!) years old -- I struggle with its application.  Innately shy, to the point of awkwardness, if not coming across as 'differnt' (as in, 'that boy ain't right!') in most social settings, I was struck even dumber by my new companion's next and final communication.

After commenting about G. Dubya Bush, our troops in Iraq and September 11th -- all still very fresh wounds at the time -- and receiving zero response from me, this homeless guys says, "Man, I thought you were an asshole, but you might just be stupid."

Then sneeringly, he shuffles off.

I go back inside the jazz club, not offended or defensive, but really struck by what the homeless guy just told me: that I was an asshole, but I might also be stupid.  I'd never thought of myself as "stupid".  Throughout my academic career, with the exception of some shaky punctuation, Geometry in high school and five years of college, it was always the opposite!

But as I made my way back toward my sound booth that night, noticing that not only had the bass solo ended but the first set as well ... that the house lights were on, the stage was empty (though an amp was buzzing) and people were standing up to leave ... it occurred to me the homeless guy was probably right.