On the left we hate the moralizing of the theofascist right. And well we should. But not because there is something wrong with morals. We may differ on what they look like, but we must also agree: Morals are important. Morals are not playing by the rules. They are not religious dictates. They are internally felt and acted upon promptings of the conscience, emanating ultimately from the individual's apprehension of what is called the Golden Rule. The Golden Rule is humanly universal in validity and acceptance, and cannot be denied by any non-pschopathic person. It is the foundational axiomatic truth of human interrelation.
But there is a difference between culturally specific rules and modes of behavior and relationship and adherence to the deeper truth of what is moral or correct.
Correct is a synonym for moral. Nothing is fully correct. Everything is fully right as it is. There is no fixed correctness. There is an absolute true correctness of things in their perfection. This is the pole on which we live. Just because we live on the axis somewhere doesn't mean the poles are not there.
And far to the sinking pole of incorrectness is the Bush Administration. And because I am merely human, I can not only make this judgement (however great my own failings might be) but revel, celebrate, and dance happy little jigs, at the unraveling of the whole dirty tattered sham. Full justice may or may not come in this lifetime for all that swinish freakshow, but the chickens are flying home with bloody razor-toothed beaks to feast on some tasty tasty liver.
In Seattle for a couple days, about to head back down to Portland. Took a nice walk in Discovery Park yesterday. I always come back to Discovery Park and the Loop Trail there. Woods, views, beach, kind of the whole gamut. Years ago I was a volunteer in the adopt-an-area program there, pulling Scotch-Broom from the meadow area. I have a relationship with the place, like an old friend I always visit back with. There are a couple of Bigleaf Maples there that are two of my favorite trees in the world. To stand beneath them on an autumn day is indescribable.
Hey, it really kind of looks like the wheels are falling off the Bush Administration. It'll be interesting to see how far it goes.
Puppetganza is Sunday at 3:00 at Nocturnal. Come on out. I will have to arrive late but I will be doing the musical accompaniment for Bruce's "Ride of a Lifetime" again.
Monday I start back in at Tri-Met again. Same job as before. It came open, I applied, they hired me back.
The Midnight Mystery Ride and my birthday were awesome. Cake, brownies, "Happy Birthday" sung multiple times and in multiple languages, even the cop who showed up was cool and just told us to watch out for speeding drivers on Marine Drive. Thanks to Ian Stude for leading us to a great spot, Ayleen for the coffee-chocolate-iced cake, Amy for talking to the cop, and all the other wonderful bikey friends who made it a blast.
Today is of course a very special day in history. In 1066 the Normans (frenchified Vikings, more or less) defeated the English (thinly Christianized Angle and Saxon brutes) at the battle of Hastings. Much of our subsequent world followed in the wake of this event.
Then in 1967 on this date, at about 4:00 PM on a golden autumn afternoon on Seattle's Capitol Hill, an umpteen great grandson of one of those Norman invaders (as well as of the Norwegian peasants who stayed on in their stone-bedevilled subarctic valleys until about a century ago) came into the world a squawling little Libra/Aquarius/Pisces/Scorpio/Virgo/Sagitarrius/Leo (to name his Sun/ascendant/Moon/Mercury/Venus/Mars/and Jupiter.) Quite a bubbling stew going on in that little head and heart, then and now.
So, thanks to all who wished me Happy Birthday. Now i gotta go get ready for the midnight-mystery ride.
there
there in the founding
there in the strange machine
there in the backwoods eternity
there in the fabulous river of hotcakes
that's where i'm going
in my building a bridge of mimeshows
I am back in town again. I don't have time right now to write a real entry, being at an internet cafe since my computer is dead. I'll offer this impromptu, improvised, unrehearsed poem. Okay here goes. Type the keys:
Things i need
things i know and love
things i touch in my wildest sleepings
things i call to in my darkest chocolate benders
things i heave
things i throw to the wind
things i feel beneath the rug
things i walk to
things i trip over
things i sing to my orchestra of sendings
This has nothing to do with this trip. This has to do with the previous trip. If you are ever in the western Dakotas, make sure to check out the "Enchanted Highway." It is the state highway going from I-94 exit 72 south 32 miles to the little town of Regent, North Dakota. A brilliant man named Gary Greff has constructed a series of truly enormous sculptures out of scrap metal. They include the world's largest grashoppers, a flock (covey) of gargantuan pheasants, and a Tin Family. There are several others as well, spaced out along the 32 miles. I talked to the scuptor himself at the gift shop he runs next to his workshop in town. He was quite friendly. A man with a unique vision and he is pulling it off one huge sculpture at a time.
I don't even know where to begin. I've run across so much really great stuff in the past two days, most of it free. But how about this for jaw dropping: though yesterday i didn't even know it was going on, this afternoon i went with my friend Jesse to the San Francisco "Hardly Strictly Bluegrass" festival at Golden Gate park and saw, in roughly chronological order: a songwriter's circle with Steve Earle, Dave Alvin, Joe Ely, Guy Clark, and Verlon Thompson each singing several songs; Ralph Stanley (the voice of all Appalachian voices, who provided the vocal performance of "Oh Death" in "Oh Brother Where Art Thou); Dolly Parton, yes Dolly Parton, though it was too crowded at that stage to see her easily so we retreated; and finally a truly wonderful performance by Emmylou, yes Emmylou Harris, with the great in his own right Buddy Miller on guitar. AND, for her last 3 songs and encore she brought out Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, and the 4 of them performing together was a really magical thing. Emmylou and Gillian's voices weaving together melody and harmony, Buddy and Rawlings' guitar in perfect interplay. Wow. WOW.
Yesterday I toured some wonderful old ships at the National Maritime Museum, bought several excellent books for cheap at the Friends of the S.F. Library book sale at Fort Mason, and saw an outdoor screening of "The Day the Earth Stood Still" at the Presidio. A film well worth watching.
The highlight moment of the day however was probably when, standing at the back of a long line of tourists at Ghiradelli Square, thinking how much I was really jonesing for a Sundae or a milkshake, but didn't really feel like spending $4.95 on a milkshake, a guy walks out with 2 and says to me "They gave me one with whipped cream on top which i did't want, so they made me another. You want the one for free?" Boy, talk about perfect fulfillment of momentary desire.
Oh, this San Fran place. It's good to visit a big city from time to time. The good and bad of it. Such a gorgeous place. The most architecturally beautiful city on the continent. Juxtaposed with the walking theatre of the wounded that is the Tenderloin and much the rest of downtown and Market Street. Some of the absolutely seediest streets in the country. Fascinates me and saddens me.
What will the earthquake do to this place?