Thrilla in Ma…Phila?
Joe Frazier voted this year in Pennsylvania.
Frazier is a former heavyweight boxing champion.
Joe Frazier has been dead since 2011.
He was registered to vote in New Jersey.
It’s like they’re barely even trying at this point.
Catchall for whatever doesn’t fit elsewhere
Joe Frazier voted this year in Pennsylvania.
Frazier is a former heavyweight boxing champion.
Joe Frazier has been dead since 2011.
He was registered to vote in New Jersey.
It’s like they’re barely even trying at this point.
I never heard before of the guy who coined my title quote, I must confess. From the sound of it, it appears I’ve been missing out on something wonderful.
Paul Johnson will be 90 on November 2nd. He is one of the most prolific British writers of the last half-century and a superb chronicler of the past. He deserves the honors and plaudits coming his way as he crosses the threshold of his tenth decade.
Johnson’s perspective is often described as “conservative,” but I find his work simply good, factual reporting of history, unvarnished by ideology. He doesn’t cherry-pick the evidence to support a preconception, let alone a misconception. Conventional wisdom (which is to say, “left-leaning”) suggests you’re “mainstream” and “objective” if you claim with the flimsiest of documentation that Franklin Roosevelt saved America from the Great Depression and that you’re a “conservative ideologue” if you just report the facts. Johnson reports the facts, so he gets the label his “progressive” critics hope will deter readers rather than enlighten them.
In his early days, Johnson’s political outlook was, by his own admission, leftist or “progressive.” But this is a man who not only writes history, he learns from it. The more Johnson learned, the less credible the progressive perspective was. By the mid-1970s, he was a cogent critic of the Left and its union allies, who were bringing Britain to its knees. He later became a friend, advisor, and speechwriter to Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.
Johnson is himself a consummate intellectual, the honest and scholarly kind committed to truth for the sake of it—unlike the charlatans, hypocrites, and monsters he writes about. He proves that you can be an intellectual without falling hopelessly in love with yourself, tossing self-awareness to the wind, or fancying yourself God’s gift to a stupid humanity in need of your wisdom. Of the more delusional ones, he offers a cogent insight:
What conclusions should be drawn? Readers will judge for themselves. But I think I detect today a certain public skepticism when intellectuals stand up to preach to us, a growing tendency among ordinary people to dispute the right of academics, writers and philosophers, eminent though they may be, to tell us how to behave and conduct our affairs. The belief seems to be spreading that intellectuals are no wiser as mentors, or worthier as exemplars, than the witch doctors or priests of old. I share that skepticism. A dozen people picked at random on the street are at least as likely to offer sensible views on moral and political matters as a cross-section of the intelligentsia. But I would go further. One of the principal lessons of our tragic century, which has seen so many millions of innocent lives sacrificed in schemes to improve the lot of humanity, is—beware intellectuals. Not merely should they be kept away from the levers of power, they should also be objects of particular suspicion when they seek to offer collective advice.
Heady stuff for sure. But now we get to the part I most wanted to excerpt.
None of Johnson’s subjects can match Karl Marx for sheer loathsomeness and shameless fakery. He was a virulent racist and anti-Semite with a vicious temper (“Jewish n****r” was one of his favorite epithets). On a good day, he enjoyed threatening those who disagreed with him by blurting, “I will annihilate you!” His personal hygiene was, well, suffice it to say he had none. He was heartlessly cruel to his family and anyone who crossed him. This is the same man who postured as a thinker whose ideas would save humanity.
We learn in (Johnson’s book) Intellectuals that the chef who cooked up communism professed to be “scientific.” In reality, Johnson argues, “there was nothing scientific about him; indeed, in all that matters he was anti-scientific.” His most famous lines—including “religion is the opiate of the masses” and workers “have nothing to lose but their chains”—were flagrantly ripped off from other authors. He “never set foot in a mill, factory, mine or other industrial workplace in the whole of his life,” steadfastly abjured invitations to do so, and denounced fellow revolutionaries who did. He never let a fact or a glimmer of reality stem the flow of poison from his pen. He had no money because he refused to work for it, then cursed those who had it and didn’t share it with him. His own mother said she wished her son “would accumulate some capital instead of just writing about it.”
Johnson’s lancing of the suppurating boil on the ass of humankind that was Karl Marx is appropriately merciless, and, as Reed says, “that’s for starters.” Read all of it. As mentioned in the article, Johnson also has a website which looks to be chock-full of more rich buttery goodness (“from 1971 onwards,” according to the archive page), which I’m definitely bookmarking for further perusal as and when I get the op’ratunity.
(Via Insty)
Welcome to Ye Olde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. Do note that the official CF comments policy remains in effect here, as enumerated in the left sidebar. All new posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…
Ironbear posted this in the comments, and it’s just too dang good a story not to bring it right out front.
Texas Beer Joint Sues Church In Mt. Vernon , Texas
Drummond’s Bar began construction on expansion of their building to increase their business. In response, the local Baptist (church) started a campaign to block the bar from expanding with petitions and prayers. Work progressed right up until the week before the grand reopening when lightning struck the bar and it burned to the ground!After the bar burning to the ground by the lightning strike, the church folks were rather smug in their outlook, bragging about the power of prayer, until the bar owner sued the church on the grounds that the church was ultimately responsible for the demise of his building, either through direct or indirect actions or means.
In its reply to the court, the church vehemently denied all responsibility or any connection to the building’s demise.
The judge read through the plaintiff’s complaint and the defendant’s reply, and at the opening hearing he commented…
“I don’t know how I’m going to decide this, but it appears from the paperwork that we have a bar owner who believes in the power of prayer, and an entire church congregation that now does not.”
As the ‘Bear says, it’s that last line from Da Judge that really makes it sing.
Welcome to Ye Olde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. Do note that the official CF comments policy remains in effect here, as enumerated in the left sidebar. All new posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…
An open letter to Trump, from Sundance.
Thank you President Donald Trump, today I voted for you.
Thank you for providing me, us, my friends and family, an opportunity to vote for a person who relentlessly and tirelessly has worked for all of us.
Thank you (for) putting on that bullet-proof vest, working and campaigning on behalf of all Americans.
Thank you to First Lady Melania Trump for giving up the privacy of a very comfortable life to support you, help us, and represent our nation with class and impeccable distinction.
Long ago we accepted the geography of this battle. We knew the campaign and presidency was going to get ugly on many levels. You knew it too – yet, you did it anyway.
You have confronted a body of globalist political elites both at home and abroad. We know there are trillions of dollars at stake, and significant power over world events hanging in the balance. We knew you would be attacked. You knew it too – yet, you did it anyway.
As a nation we are not disconnected from fully comprehending the issues at hand. Most are fully aware of the fraud, scheme, manipulative lying and corrupt propaganda inbound from every entity who holds a vested interest in your elimination.
You knew that too – yet, you stepped-up anyway.
We fully understand the scope of media hatred perpetuating a fraud which is occurring on a grand scale. We are well versed in the machinations and schemes of the interests you have faced. We are aware and clear eyed to the hate expressed by your opposition. You knew that would come too – yet, you did it anyway.
We refined our understanding based on prior years of confrontation; essentially training ourselves amid the various battlefields controlled by the very powers established to see your removal. The swamp is vile. You knew that – yet, you did it anyway.
And should Trump somehow lose this thing, it will establish clearly that not merely an election but America That Was itself is indeed lost. In fact, it’s probably been gone for a good bit longer than some of us may have realized. Not that that realization, painful as it is, calls for a lapse into despair, mind. But it DOES strongly suggest the necessity of a redirection, a course correction, in terms of vision, ambition, and action.
In the end, no matter which way the election goes, it still comes down to the same thing. Really, it probably always will.

Yep. And apres Trump, le deluge.
SO: any bets on which of the so-called “major” TeeWee networks will call it for Biden around, say, 8 PM or thereabouts—before some polling places are even closed, in other words—as yet another ludicrously transparent tactic aimed at suppressing Republican voter turnout? Or, perhaps, will they ALL do it?
I’ll just use this as my all-purpose election-night thread, and update accordingly as, when, and if I have more to say. Which, I may very well not; unless we get a tremendous Trumpslide, a shellacking of truly historic proportions, I figger there isn’t going to be a final verdict for weeks, if not a couple of months, even. We shall see what we shall we see.
Update the First! Okay, just a personal anecdote for y’all here; doesn’t necessarily mean anything, take it for what it’s worth, ‘kay?
Whilst driving around Belmont/Mt Holly bootlessly trying to make a buck right before sunset yesterday, I noticed a simply unheard-of volume of traffic coming west out of (c)Harlotte. Basically, there are three main arteries providing a direct route into Gaston County from MecklenTurd: I-85, Wilkinson Blvd, and Freedom Drive/Highway 27. I am no way no how kidding about this, people: as bad as traffic heading our way can often be, this was something else altogether. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen plenty over the years.
I happened to be on or around all three of those main arteries, and they were all nightmarish. If I had to pick a prize-winner, I’d say Hwy 27 was the champ. Only two lanes most of the way, with a solidly-packed mass of idling vehicles that stretched from Mt Holly-Huntersville Rd (which 27 dead-ends into, on the CLT side of the river just outside of Mt Holly) all the way back well into Paw Creek, a place that’s always been referred to hereabouts as Tank Town (so-called because of the huge fuel tanks at the various gas-and-oil depots located there). Not sure exactly what that stretch of road might amount to mileage-wise—call it, say, eight or ten miles, maybe? Anyways, the line was every bit of three-four times longer than it would normally be, possibly more.
Then it occurred to me: Charlotte was basically emptying out. The urban rats were fleeing their thoroughly-fouled nest for somewhere—ANYWHERE—else, most likely in dread of the predicted election-night rioting and violence to be visited upon kind, loving Biden voters by hordes of white supremacists, Nazis, Kluxers, and those gnarly and ubiquitous Right Wing Militia types. Put-upon Charlotteans, worn down already by the summer-long Black Lies Murder festitivies downtown—however mild those doings had been in comparison to other Democrat-Socialist bastions—were voting with their feet at last, heading for the hills with utmost alacrity.
Naturally, I could very well be all wet with that little guess. Probably am, at that. But I happened to be in and around Charlotte earlier today also, and I tells ya, the place was a fucking ghost town. Traffic was incredibly light everywhere I went, more so than I’ve seen in years and years of making deliveries and driving trucks all over the place. Pedestrian, scooter, and bicycle traffic was simply non-existent. The only things missing from the scene were tumbleweeds blowing by, and a spooky Ennio Morricone soundtrack for what the pros call incidental music.
So I dunno, make of all that what you will. It may well NOT have been a desperate, last-ditch attempt to avoid having some Mostly Peaceful™ violence rained down upon their heads, right enough. Could be any number of unknown explanations for the mass exodus I saw. But whatever the backstory, Charlotteans en masse were damned sure getting the hell out of Dodge yesterday. And as of late this afternoon, they hadn’t come back yet.
Update the Second! Another one of those times when I’m just gonna have to break my No Twitter vow.
You’ve fanned the flames for chaos, riots and vandalism. You’ve led the most vicious, negative and political attacks on the President.
You fed the American people a Russian collusion lie for 4 years.
Stop pretending you are now shocked. https://t.co/AnRBg2sY5y— Richard Grenell (@RichardGrenell) November 1, 2020
Merchants and other storefronts across the country are boarding up windows in anticipation of a highly polarized Election Day, according to reports.
Reports of businesses taking action have emerged in Boston, Washington DC, St. Louis, San Francisco and other large cities.
In the Los Angeles area, the city of Beverly Hills has already declared its Rodeo Drive shopping area will be on lockdown for two days starting on Election Day. Reports from various sources say merchants on Sunset Boulevard and La Brea Avenue are also preparing their businesses in anticipation of trouble.
Kruiser notes a puzzling coinkydink:
None of those cities are known for their thriving right-wing militia communities. All are, however, familiar with Black Lives Matter and antifa “peaceful” protests.
Virtually every city named (there were more) in this article is overwhelmingly Democrat and has been run by Democrats for years. Elected Democrats spent the summer falling all over themselves to show solidarity with protests that, despite the mainstream media fable-spinning, usually turned violent. The belated, half-hearted “condemnations” that were issued months into the rioting rang hollow. The miscreants had already been emboldened by their elders.
Fascist violence is always blamed on the Right but perpetrated by the Left, to modify an old phrase.
Update the Fourth! Not to imply that the presidential race isn’t of primary importance or anything, but the Senate outcome could end up mattering every bit as much.
Democrats expect that they can win the U.S. Senate, taking the majority from Republicans. The Senate currently has 53 Republican senators and 45 Democratic senators, with two independents who caucus with Democrats. Thirty-five seats are up for grabs.
And more of those contested seats were held by Repubs than Dems: 23 being defended by the ‘Pubbies, 12 by the Demoscum, with 14 of the total “considered competitive,” according to Bloomberg anyway.
So what, you say? Well, grok ye this, brothers and sisters, and grok it fully: if the Demonrats DO flip the Senate and hold onto the House as well, be assured that impeachment proceedings will begin in the House the moment the final syllable of Trump’s oath of office is uttered. Only this go-round, the Demonrat Senate will have the votes to convict and remove him from office.
Don’t any of you kid yourselves that they wouldn’t dare to make such a raw, outrageous move, however ramshackle a pretext they’d need to cobble together to get the dirty deed done. Just…don’t, awright? Because we all know by now that as soon as they think they can, they most certainly will, and right straight to Hell with trivial considerations like ethics; probity; the faith and trust of the American people in their institutions and leaders; the stability of said institutions; whether such a nakedly obvious power play complies in even the smallest conceivable way with Constitional requirements, and etc.
And while y’all are over there trying to convince yourselves that Democrat scumwads will be restrained by the teeniest, tiniest smidgeon of shame, conscience, or basic decency from actually following through on such heinous effrontery, they’ll be busy having Trump frogmarched out of the Oval Office in irons, and working out a scheme to oust Pence in similar fashion most ricky-tick. Meanwhile, Peelousy will be in her chambers rehearsing the oath of office herself, getting all set for the Coronation. Count on it.
Update the Fifth! As of now, it seems sadly apparent that Trump did NOT get the overwhelming victory required to head off an extended vote-finding, manufacturing, and “counting” process, tainted by shenanigans aplenty and shady maneuvering both overt and covert. No, Biden’s “we’re about to go into a dark winter” doomsday prophecy, although no longer easily dismissable as an off-putting joke, is still not an inevitability just yet. But there’s no denying it: difficult as it is to get one’s head around, this thing is way too close for comfort. And unless something changes radically over the next few hours, I don’t see much chance of avoiding a grim, grey autumn.
Alex at Ammo.com uncorks another meat-y, beat-y, big, and bouncy essay.
Cultural Superiority isn’t Racism: Why Western Values Underpin the World’s Best Countries
Whether or not Western values are “superior” to other value systems is entirely reliant upon what one considers to be the ideal results for a society. Honest and good people have disagreements on this topic. However, we believe that in the West, there is a general, broad agreement on what constitutes a “good” result for society best summed up by two principles: freedom and fairness.Freedom and fairness are, in fact, two ideas that are in tension with one another because they are often mutually contradictory. What makes one man free might be unfair in a meaningful sense to another. Indeed, the left-right spectrum in the United States and the Anglosphere might be described as the Party of Freedom (for example, the Republicans) versus the Party of Fairness (in this case, the Democrats).
Both of these values are important to everyone to varying degrees. The resolution of this tension – drawing the line at some point between fairness and freedom – is effectively what our entire civilization is about. It is about maximizing results for the greatest number of people, creating a society that is as fair as it can possibly be while minimally infringing on the rights of individuals.
In a word, Western values can be described as “liberalism” in the sense that John Stuart Mill and John Locke would have understood the term. While there are coherent and important arguments about the limitations of liberalism on both the left and the right, both sides of the political spectrum have thus far failed to offer an alternative to classical liberalism that provides the same degree of generalized prosperity and individual liberty that Western civilization has provided using classical liberalism as its de facto political ideology.
If one believes that freedom and fairness are not important, this doesn’t mean much. However, most Americans and most Westerners believe, whether they are aware of this specific description or not, that freedom and fairness are important and perhaps the most important values that a society can aspire to.
What’s more, we believe that these values are directly responsible for the material prosperity and plenty that characterizes these societies. Individuals are able to pursue happiness in their own way and, for the most part, retain the fruits of their labor. This creates motivation for innovations that raise the standard of living across the board, from top to bottom.
Has there ever in all of history been another belief system that took so much for granted, while offering little or nothing of value for counterpoint, than modern Left/liberalism?
What would Halloween be without a little Vincent Price?
I’ve complained about my hometown before, but am obliged to say at this juncture that in humble Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, we actually had something better.
The Hilarious House of Frightenstein was produced in 1971 by our one and only TV station, CHCH. This hour-long, 130-episode kids’ show combined the mid-century sensibility of Famous Monsters of Filmland with the then-hip look and sound of psychedelia: kaleidoscopic “special effects” plus Top 40 hits spun by “The Wolfman,” an affectionate rip-off of legendary DJ Wolfman Jack.
Frightenstein’s only real star was Vincent Price, who appears at the beginning and end of each episode, and reads mock-macabre poems and other interstitials.
Frightenstein’s producer tracked down Price, who agreed to work for $3000 a day, one quarter of his usual per-diem appearance rate.
He loved children, he explained simply. And the gig sounded like fun.
CHCH checked their tiny budget. They could only afford Price for four days, tops.
Four days it would have to be.
Everyone signed on the dotted line.
I’ve heard the story of what happened next from different sources, and it never ceases to warm my heart:
Price arrived at the modest TV studio, got into makeup and costume and was handed reams of doggerel poems about some crazy characters he’d never heard of before.
He’d read each piece once, put his head down, then look up at the camera’s red light and utter his lines perfectly in one take.
Next!
New makeup, new costume, same perfect delivery, hour after hour.
Finally, it was time for a break. The weary yet exhilarated crew turned off the cameras and lights.
Then they looked around and realized that Vincent Price had disappeared.
Oh well, they said to each other, what do you expect? He’s a big star and all. Plus he’s, like, 60 years old, so he probably went for a nap…
The studio door opened a few minutes later.
It was Vincent Price and a cab driver, hauling “two-fours” of beer from the nearby Brewer’s Retail.
He handed cold stubbies out to the cast and crew and regaled them with tales of old Hollywood, his days working with Karloff and Peter Lorre and Gene Tierney and Cecil B. DeMille and all the other greats he’d known.
Then he posed for photos with everybody individually.
On an overnight rush, these were blown up into 8 x 10s, which Price personally autographed for everyone at the station.
Over the course of four days, taping over 400 of these interstitials, Price never complained, blew a line or missed a mark.
In an era when standards of conduct were collapsing, Vincent Price insisted on behaving like the well-bred gentleman he so often portrayed on screen.
What a wonderful story. Like Sean Connery, Vincent Price was another icon from a now-lost and lamented era. Steyn Kathy Shaidle (oops, my bad—M) is right to laud his rock-solid, unflappable professionalism, and here’s the proof:
Update! Okay, one last hurrah for Halloween.
Can’t argue with this. I mean it literally can’t be done.
The way Trump—the way China will respond is when we gather the rest of the world that in fact [unintelligible] in… in… fr- in in in in open trade and making sure that we’re in a position that the world uh that, that we deal with WHO the right way that, in fact, that’s when things begin to change, that when China’s behavior is going to change.
Absolutely! Thanks for “clearing that up” for us there, Gropey.
The Reaper stalks Cadaver Joe.
While Joe Biden has been handling a light schedule of morning campaign stops and basement naps, his campaign bus has been driving throughout the southern US.
In Houston, one Trump supporter decided to troll the Biden team by driving a hilariously decked-out hearse behind the bus with MAGA-approved branding.
The majestic vehicle has some generic Trump 2020 decals, but it’s the other messages on this baby that takes it to that next level of trollery. Here are a few of them:
- “Collecting Democrat votes one dead stiff at a time.”
- “Dig ’em Deeper, Bury ’em Cheaper Funeral Parlor”
- “Clinton Foundation Suicide Limo Service – 1-800-HANG-URSELF”
- “Official Democrat Cemetery Vote Collector”
At every campaign stop Gropey’s Griftermobile makes, the hearse stops close by and sets up a display featuring an open casket—which ones imagines is beginning to look downright inviting to Cadaver Joe at this stage of his self-inflicted ordeal—along with a big sign admonishing, “Don’t forget 10% percent for the Big Guy.” According to the article, the Griftermobile has even resorted to blowing through redlights in a desperate attempt to ditch their tail, apparently with no joy so far.
Yes, there are pictures and video included, and they’re hilarious. But they’re embedded in Tweets, which I’m trying to stay away from posting as much as I possibly can from here on out, just on principle. Anyways.
The driver of the hearse indicated that local law enforcement had shown support for the hilarious display.
“Been getting thumbs up from all the cops around here,” said the man. “At least we know we got their support. Even though they can’t say nothing, they still support us.”
At the time of publishing, the Biden bus had reportedly pulled away from their campaign stop after no supporters showed up. The hearse team seemed to be in hot pursuit. We look forward to updating you on any further hilarious developments.
No wonder poor Gropey seems kinda jumpy and out of sorts of late. Or more so than usual, let’s say.
DAMMIT, I only realized on the way home from work that I had completely spaced on activating the CF Halloween theme this year. And given the insane amount of tweaking that will be required to bring the tired old thing even nominally into line with the more recent WP versions, it ain’t likely it’s going to make an appearance this year, alas.
On the bright side, however, it’s a matter of a paltry few days now until our beloved Scrooge Picard rears his top-hatted pate once more around these parts—since I blew off Halloween, I’m gonna inaugurate CF’s traditional holiday makeover early than ever this annum to make up to the CF Faithful. No need to thank me, folks. While you’re waiting, enjoy yourselves some spooky TuneDamage.
Well, unless maybe it’s Chopin’s world-famous Funeral March, that is. Now let’s shift gears.
Back in my punk-rock halcyon days, I loved the Dead Kennedys all to pieces, and the lyrics of this one in particular spoke to my very soul. Why not every day/Are you so afraid/What will people say? indeed.
Sure, I could very easily have taken the easy way out and tossed up Boris and the Crypt Kicker Five’s classic “Monster Mash” to close things out, like any ordinary blogger certainly would have. But predictability and obviousness ain’t why you guys hang around here in the first place, I figger. Not that there’s anything at all wrong with “Monster Mash,” I hasten to add. But we’ve all heard it enough times, and Gene Simmons’ rollicking, lesser-known little finger-snapper sounds fresh and fun in comparison.
Now to get back to seeing if there’s anything I can do to fit the old Helloween theme into a fresh new WP framework. In case you haven’t seen it or don’t remember it, the theme’s feature image was done up special for me by the seriously amazing American artist Coop, so I’m gonna do my damnedest to make this thing work here.
Update! It occurred to me, in light of the H-ween theme’s shortcomings, that I maybe oughta check up on Scrooge Picard’s overall operability just as a precautionary measure. And wouldn’tcha know it, looks like that one’s gonna need some re-working also—thereby sending any chance of getting Coop’s Helloween masterpiece into usable condition this weekend a-swirling right down the ol’ drain, dammit.
Another self-styled “courageous hero” of the Left turns out to be a miserable, slimy little worm.
In 2018, the New York Times proudly published an anonymously written piece from a purported “senior official in the Trump administration,” knowing that this statement was a lie. “Anonymous” claimed that Trump was an idiot, but that a brave band of “senior officials in his own administration are working diligently from within to frustrate parts of his agenda.” In fact, the author was Miles Taylor, a low-level functionary in DHS when he wrote the hit piece.
The anonymous article, published on Sept. 5, 2018, bore the lofty title, “I Am Part of the Resistance inside the Trump Administration: I work for the president but like-minded colleagues and I have vowed to thwart parts of his agenda and his worst inclinations.” As noted above, to give the piece heft, the New York Times claimed that it came from a “senior official in the Trump administration.” We now know this statement was an outright lie, for the Times admitted that the author’s “identity is known to us.”
The article was a nauseating glue of arrogant piety and self-serving condescension. On the one hand, “Anonymous” insisted that he and others like him “want the administration to succeed” and even agreed that “many of its policies have already made America safer and more prosperous.” Nevertheless, his brave little band of saboteurs loathed Trump, and no matter how effective he was, they were going to thwart him. It was paragraph after paragraph of smug, self-righteous glop.
And a confession to having committed numerous acts of sabotage intended to hamper and undermine the Trump admin’s policies and initiatives that, were there any justice in America, would leave the cringing pantywaist wide open to indictment for sedition.
Taylor accompanied his confession with yet another pompous screed in which he explained why he’s so much better than everyone else. If I had to imagine purgatory, it would be sitting in a room listening to this guy trash other people and justify his higher morality and intelligence.
I hope you caught Taylor’s assertion that “Trump is a man without character.” Let’s talk about character. Taylor lied when CNN’s Anderson Cooper asked him if he was “Anonymous”…
Even worse than that, Taylor allowed a terrible smear to lie against Victoria Coates’s name. And while he’s acknowledged that he owes Coates an apology, none has been forthcoming.
Nor will it ever be, I’d bet. Oxygen thieves like Taylor don’t apologize for their misdeeds; the most anybody ever gets out of them is one of those too-familiar “I’m sorry if you were offended” pseudo-apologies which, true to form, satisfies no one but themselves. Contrition? Honest admission of guilt? Don’t make me laugh. Bottom line:
Miles Taylor is why the American people voted for Trump in 2016 and why, with all due disrespect for the polls and the pundits, it looks as if he’s going to win again in 2020. Americans have had it up to here and beyond with the self-righteous, dishonest, hypocritical, arrogant, self-serving professional governing class. These people are a plague on the American political body, and they need to go find an honest living in the private sector where they cause less harm.
Yeah, well, they aren’t gonna do that on their own initiative. Tragically, it becomes more apparent each and every day that Real Americans are going to have to take direct and forceful action to root them all out if the country is to survive relatively intact.
What it is ain’t exactly clear.
All in all, one apt tune calls for another, right?
Legions of players have covered Dylan’s stuff over the years, with varying results. While I do still maintain that some classic tunes should just be left the hell alone, the above isn’t one of ’em. I’m confident Mr Zimmerman is well aware of Lopez’ rendition. And I’d be surprised indeed if he didn’t approve wholeheartedly.
The habitual, two-tiered way we talk about classical composers is ubiquitous. For instance, coverage of an early October livestream by the Louisville Orchestra praised the ensemble’s performance of a “Beethoven” symphony, and the debut of a composition memorializing Breonna Taylor by “Davóne Tines” and “Igee Dieudonné.” But ubiquity doesn’t make something right. It’s time we paid attention to the inequity inherent in how we talk about composers, and it’s time for the divided naming convention to change.
And just never anyone mind about the “inequities” inherent in the abilities of said composers, and the work they produced.
As we usher wider arrays of composers into our concerts and classrooms, this dual approach only exacerbates the exclusionary practices that suppressed nonwhite and nonmale composers in the first place. When we say, “Tonight, you’ll be hearing symphonies by Brahms and Edmond Dédé,” we’re linguistically treating the former as being on a different plane than the latter, a difference originally created by centuries of systematic prejudice, exclusion, sexism, and racism. (Dédé was a freeborn Creole composer whose music packed concert halls in Europe and America in the mid-19th century.)
Going forward, we need to “fullname” all composers when we write, talk, and teach about music. If mononyms linguistically place composers in a canonical pantheon, fullnaming never places them there to begin with. When we say, “Tonight, you’ll be hearing symphonies by Johannes Brahms and Edmond Dédé,” we’re linguistically treating both composers as being equally worthy of attention.
Even if they’re, y’know, NOT.
Musicians, academics, and teachers have a lot of work ahead to confront the racist and sexist history of classical music.
Which, naturally, is a given. For certain types of overly-precious idiots, anyway.
Fullnaming composers, especially those who have been elevated to mononymic status by this complicated history, will challenge us to at the very least afford the same respect to all of the individuals whose music we talk and write about. When we do return to the concert halls, let’s return to concerts that play Ludwig Beethoven alongside Florence Price, and Edmond Dédé alongside Johannes Brahms.
Meh. Get back to me when one of your no-name also-rans produces something anywhere near as powerful and influentional as a Le Nozze de Figaro, a Die Zauberflote, or a Jupiter Symphony; an Emperor Concerto, a “Pastorale” or “Fate” Symphony; a Swan Lake or Nutcracker Suite; a Thieving Magpie, Barber of Seville, or William Tell Overture.
I won’t be holding my breath, nor should anybody else. The above are all deathless, iconic compositions whose richness, beauty, and depth have stood the test of time to become potent totems of Western culture itself. To even obliquely suggest that the atonal cacophony or masturbatory noodling typically puked up by ANY modern composer automagickally qualifies such flyweights to even sweep a Mozart or Beethoven’s workspace—because RACIST!™—is to drive home fully how preposterous and contrived any notion of “equality” among creative types is.
But then, by casually excreting that little “racist and sexist history of classical music” buttnugget of yours, you’ve given away what it is you’re really all about…and it is NOT music. So let’s all just get right down to the nitty-gritty here, shall we? Just like every other Leftist, it’s actually Western culture you have a problem with, and not some silly-assed “fullnaming” horseshit.
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