Gosh Batman, I’m a little overdue with this column. I could reel off a bunch of reasonable-sounding excuses, including a recent paid writing assignment that took longer than expected (what a shock), but why waste valuable word count on such silliness.
The good news is that thanks to Father Time and my physical therapist I can now walk farther with little pain, hence I usually get in some staring at the trees in Cayuga Park, which turn out to be much more interesting than the ceiling of my bedroom.
Quite a bit has happened in the, er, several weeks since I last wrote all of you involuntary subscribers. For starters, the week after I sent out my last dispatch moronic rock legend Ted Nugent announced that he had tested positive for COVID-19 and became so sick “I thought I was dying.” This was newsworthy due to Nugent earlier telling fans, “It’s not a real pandemic and that’s not a real vaccine. I’m sorry, I ain’t taking no vaccine.” He also called mask wearers “sheep” and repeatedly referred to COVID-19 as the “China virus.”
The Nuge has always been good for a cheap laugh or three. Back in the off-kilter ‘80s I racked up a big fine at the Boston Public Library because of my attachment to his live record Intensity in Ten Cities, a sure-fire source of demented yuks. I recall one bender-friendly afternoon when my pal Chris H. and I laughed until we had tears in our eyes as we schlock-rocked out to the most interminable guitar solo on the album, from either “I Take No Prisoners” or “My Love is Like a Tire Iron” — sorry, due diligence does not extend to relistening to those songs sober. That electric six-string assault must have contained pretty much every arena rock guitar god cliche known to humankind circa 1980. Not an original lick in it; very Spinal Tap. How we adored it’s awfulness! I’m sure my neighbors in the North End grew to love it as well.
But my favorite Nuge story comes from the sharp left wing rock journalist Dave Marsh, who, when told that Nugent said Marsh was his favorite critic, responded, “I wonder what he’ll think when he learns how to read.”
Speaking of people who would have done well to apply themselves a little more diligently to their ABCs, let’s not forget far-right/delusional Representative Marjory Taylor Greene (R-Mars). My goombah Patrick argues that Ms. Greene is a bit of a “low-hanging fruitcake” but I say we should all pick on her anyway.
On May 13 Greene screamed insults at Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez as the two left the House floor. Ocasio-Cortez subsequently stated, referring to Greene and Rep Ted Yoho (R-FL, i.e. unbalanced), that “I used to work as a bartender and these are the kinds of people that I threw out of bars all the time.” Greene had repeatedly yelled demands that AOC debate her on The Green New Deal, though Greene also admitted that she hasn’t actually read the legislation. But how can someone who thrives on white supremacist indignation be expected to focus on on even a paragraph which deals with so-called “science”? Also, could this be an echo of that Allen Ginsberg line about seeing the most mediocre minds of his generation driven stark raving mad?
No word as to whether Greene will join the equally off the wall “Cyber Ninja” ersatz accounting outfit which is conducting a very 2021 Republican-style (that is, bonkers) audit of 2020 presidential ballots cast in Maricopa County, Arizona. On May 17, the Maricopa County Board of Supervisors sent a letter to the president of the Arizona Senate that authorized the cyber ninja “work.” The 14-page letter included these observations: “You have rented out the once good name of the Arizona State Senate to grifters and con-artists, who are fundraising hard-earned money from our fellow citizens even as your contractors parade around the [Veterans Memorial] Coliseum hunting for bamboo and something they call ‘kinomatic artifacts’ while shining purple light for effect.” Further, these less-than-stealthy Ninjas “do not have the experience necessary to conduct an audit of an election. They do not know the laws, nor the procedures, nor the best practices. It is inevitable that they will arrive at questionable conclusions.” Naturally, I was struck by the search for bamboo, a detail that sounds like it was lifted from Arthur Conan Doyle. What’s that all about, cyber ninjas? Turns out that signs of bamboo among the ballots would show that tens of thousands of ballots were flown in from Asia. Nothing racist there! It was perhaps less than completely shocking that one of the lunatics involved in the Arizona recount was at the January storming of the Capitol.
Regarding the January 6 ground-borne toxic event, Rep. Andrew S. Clyde (R-GA) said in May that the DC attack was like a “normal tourist visit,” even though photos from that day show Clyde screaming and barricading House gallery doors. On the Fox “News” Channel, Wisconsin Senator Ron Johnson (R, of course) claimed the insurrection was mostly a “peaceful protest.” Various like-minded Birth of a Nation fans in Congress have repeatedly suggested that the rabid MAGA-ites out for blood on January 6 were actually Antifa militants in MAGA drag. Ah, those crafty anti-fascist masters of disguise … they could have taught Lon Chaney, Sr. a thing or two!
I find it profoundly disappointing that Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy continues to go along with and even encourage such blatant lies. I suppose there is perverse entertainment to be had in watching McCarthy claim that Joe Biden is “gonna control how much meat you can eat,” though if I wasn’t a vegetarian that might be a chilling statement. What gets me is that in his previous career McCarthy was one of my favorite [North] American actors, and one not noted for supporting fascist attacks on democracy. How did he go from being so cool to being such an asshole? I’ll probably never know, but for a sense of how far he fell, see the link in the notes below to some of the swine-herder’s work in a previous lifetime.
Since what you are reading is consciously modeled on the output of many great, near-great, and not-so-great newspaper columnists of the 20th Century, it’s time to follow in their footsteps by throwing in a random item. I could have worked it into some previous paragraphs to more seamless effect, but for gawd’s sake I have paid writing to get back to, and, to quote Samuel Johnson, “No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money.”
That said, here’s the random Age of Unreason factoid: in December 2020, Mark Meadows, former chief of staff for The Don, asked attorney general Jeffrey A. Rosen to investigate a rumor that “people in Italy had used military technology and satellites to remotely tamper with voting machines in the United States and switch votes for Mr. Trump to votes for Joseph R. Biden Jr.” People say there are problems with people in Italy!
Lurching right along, I must now salute a few impressive gone-but-not-forgotten individuals who the Grim Reaper took down since I last typed at you.
The underrated director Monte Hellman died on April 20 at the age of 91. Per The New York Times, “Originally part of Roger Corman’s army of hungry young actors and filmmakers, he made terse action movies and became a hero of the American independent film movement.” I’ve probably seen Hellman’s most famous movie, Two Lane Blacktop, five times on the big screen. I am now jonesing to see it again (in a theater—it’s not a small screen film). Warren Oates’s performance as G.T.O. (who wouldn’t want to be named after their car?) is one of my favorites in [North] American movies. For me, the character is kind of a composite of dozens of lunatics who I got rides from hitchhiking or worked next to in my teens and twenties.
Hellman was winningly low-key but also sharp as a tack when speaking at a Roxie screening of his last film, Road to Nowhere (2010). Unfortunately, The Roxie hasn’t screened the “noir Western” China 9, Liberty 7 (1978), which featured Oates and Sam Peckinpah (!). The moviehouse should now rectify that oversight, ideally by sticking the dark oater in question onto a double bill with The Beast From the Haunted Cave, which Hellman directed for Corman and later described as “a bit like Key Largo with a monster.”
The Bay Area poet Al Young also died in April, at the age of 81. Young wrote that he “came up with jazz and through jazz and under the influence of jazz.” He wasn’t a fan of confessional poetry, once observing, “there is only so much you can say about yourself that will be interesting.” If only more writers of both poetry and prose would realize that. I bought a copy of Something About the Blues (2008) at a reading, and when it came my turn to have the book autographed Al patiently answered my feverish questions. “We all read [Kenneth] Fearing,” he said when I asked him for his take on that too often forgotten poet and novelist, making me feel vindicated as all get out.
I also raise my proverbial glass to the activist, teacher, and friend to working people (including me), Ruach Graffis, who died on May 21. I met Ruach through the Redstone Labor Temple Association, the tenants organization of the Redstone Building, headquarters for TerrallCorp since 2004. She was a voice of reason and force of nature in the RLTA for years, until ill health forced her to give up her Redstone office with the San Francisco Taxi Workers Alliance.
In his obituary at 48 Hills (link below), Chris Cook does an excellent job of paying tribute to Ruach’s life, but there’s one detail I must add. Once when chatting with Ruach in her book-clogged digs I made a reference to John Waters, which prompted Ruach to tell me that she’d known Divine when he was a Baltimore high schooler named Glenn Milstead. Ruach appreciated Glenn because he was the only boy she knew who wouldn’t stare at her ample bosom when he talked to her. They got along so well that the young man who would become Divine took her to their high school prom. Ruach laughed when she told me that story. She had a great laugh, a great heart, and is already greatly missed.
Before closing, I must humbly ask your opinion on a matter of some importance to me. Minimal, but some. In the June 5 so-bad-it’s-funny hit piece San Francisco Chronicle flack for big real estate Heather Knight wrote about an appeal I made with a network of community groups to the SF Board of Supervisors, La Knight called me and my friends “grumpalumps and gadflies.” I’m still not sure which of those categories I fit into. Are you? If so, please let me know. At last, an informal internet survey that doesn’t involve data mining by corporate profiteers! If you hit a paywall at the link below to Heather K.’s attack I can send you the text of her indignant status quo-supporting diatribe, and there’s no need to thank me.
I need to thank you, though. To be specific, for reading this. Until next time, pray for destruction of the filibuster, carpe diem, keep it surreal, and give my regards to Broadway.
NOTES:
Kevin McCarthy back when he was still cool:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNJB363yql8
Ruach Graffis Presente! https://48hills.org/2021/05/ruach-graffis-legendary-sf-cab-driver-and-organizer-is-dead-at-74/
Turns out Heather Knight doesn’t like me:
https://www.sfchronicle.com/local/heatherknight/article/Grumpalumps-and-gadflies-S-F-cafe-owner-16226515.php
Not referenced in the above column but quite worth a gander nonetheless: https://www.thedailybeast.com/ohio-state-senator-andrew-brenner-caught-driving-during-government-video-conference?ref=home
My long-awaited piece about the scam called “the sharing economy,” with a paywall because I was paid for my work: https://www.counterpunch.org/2021/06/06/how-to-win-back-the-sharing-economy/