Made Myself Stupid
“So many times I’ve made myself stupid with the fear of being outsmarted.” James Richardson (b. 1950) “Vectors: 56 Aphorisms and Ten-second Essays” Michigan Quarterly Review, #17 (Spring 1999) Wish I’d Said That put this up on twitter. I made a copy of the 56AATSE. … This is a repost from 2021. Per Wikipedia, James Richardson is still alive.
It sat ignored on my desktop. until this morning. I was looking for something to work with, and started to pick out aphorisms that spoke to me. The first two to make the cut were #3 and #5, which are key players in the fibonacci sequence. Why not just eliminate all the players, except for the f-numbers? Then use those actors as a writing prompt.
First, we need to look into James Richardson. Turns out he is a recently retired English Professor at Princeton. A princeton.edu document has stories about Dr. Richardson: “Some of his colleagues in English will remember how, as department secretary, he recorded the minutes of meetings in rhyming couplets. … Jim is a philosopher-poet in the tradition of … his fellow baseball fan, Walt Whitman.” Apparently, Jim is a Yankees fan, which we can forgive.
1 “No matter how fast you travel, life walks.” Dr. Richardson is fond of semantics.
2 “Desire’s most seductive promise is not pleasure but change, not that you might possess your object but that you might become the one who belongs with it.” Ditto.
3 “There are silences harder to take back than words.” This is the first one that was noteworthy. This does not mean that I agree. Sometimes, the best thing to say is nothing at all. This goes against a commodity wisdom crowd-pleaser. “The Only Thing Necessary for the Triumph of Evil is that Good Men Say Nothing.” As Mike Hunt once said, “Don’t just do something, stand there.”
Kyle Rittenhouse might have a few things to say about this. He heard stories of angry mobs ransacking businesses, and decided to do something. Mr. Rittenhouse was severely punished for his decision to help out. Many of the people who spoke out, about the trial, should have kept their thoughts to themself. Justice is not a popularity contest.
5 “If it can be used again, it is not wisdom but theory.” 90% of the time, when people say theory, they really should say hypothesis. It is not known how this relates to reuseable wisdom.
8 “Everyone loves the Revolution. We only disagree on whether it has occurred.” There is a activist recipe. “To make an omelette, you have to break eggs.” Whenever I hear this, I feel like an egg.
13 “Like late afternoon, a pale cirrus crosses the nearly transparent moon. They are so alike, meeting, that I feel, suddenly and childishly, They like each other. Somehow I can’t help liking them for that. Somehow I can’t help feeling that they like me liking them.” Like Joni Mitchell, Dr. Richardson really doesn’t know clouds at all. We are talking about an atmospheric mass of water droplets, and a big rock traveling 403,000 kilometers away from earth.
21 “Birds are amazing, newspapers, stoves, friends. All that happens is amazing, if you think about it. All that doesn’t happen is even more amazing, because there’s so much more of it. Only habit keeps us from seeing all this. Habit is really amazing.” Is Dr. Richardson talking to newspapers, stoves, or friends? Maybe he is talking to all three. Of course, this was back when print media was much more popular than today, so maybe a newspaper was his friend. This does not account for the stove.
34 “I seem to need a larger vocabulary to talk to you than to talk to myself.” There are things that you know, that you never have to describe. When you talk to another person, you need to explain.
55 “Happiness is gratitude in search of something to be owed to.” Dr. Jim is probably grateful to the University of Michigan, for publishing his 56 Bright Ideas. When you are a high level academic, you need to publish things. UM is playing Georgia on New Years Eve. Many people in Alabama would be grateful if Georgia wins. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. Selah.
Einstein, Facebook, God
“I love this … When Einstein gave lectures at U.S. universities, the recurring question that students asked him most was: Do you believe in God? And he always answered: I believe in the God of Spinoza. Baruch de Spinoza was a Dutch philosopher considered one of the great rationalists of 17th century philosophy, along with Descartes.
(Spinoza) : God would say: Stop praying. What I want you to do …” Today’s commodity wisdom goes on for 687 words. The bs detecter was buzzing. It was time to consult with Mr. Google.
“At home in Berlin in April 1929, Albert Einstein received an urgent telegram from Rabbi Herbert S. Goldstein of New York: “Do you believe in God? Stop. Answer paid 50 words.” Boston Archbishop William Henry Cardinal O’Connell had derided Einstein’s famous relativity theories as “befogged speculation” conjuring “the ghastly apparition of Atheism.” An alarmed Goldstein sought to douse these rhetorical flames with reassurance from the great man himself.
“Einstein wired back “I believe in Spinoza’s God, Who reveals Himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God Who concerns Himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.” (“Ich glaube an Spinozas Gott der sich in gesetzlicher Harmonie des Seienden offenbart, nicht an Gott der Sich mit Schicksalen und Handlungen der Menschen abgibt.”) The rabbi might have saved himself a little money; in the end, Einstein’s reply in the original German used only 25 words.”
“Einstein often saved ink by referring this way—a sort of philisophical shorthand—to Benedict (Baruch) de Spinoza, the 17th-century philosopher and scientist excommunicated from Amsterdam’s Sephardic Jewish community for his beliefs. … Spinoza did in fact “remain alone” for most of his life. Raised in an Amsterdam enclave of Marranos—Jews converted under the inquisitions of Spain and Portugal who had returned to Hebrew tradition in the Netherlands—Spinoza was considered a stellar pupil by his rabbis. When he began questioning the idea of a biblical God, however, they expelled him from the sect. Rather than convert to Christianity, he defied convention by living without organized religion. He never married and supported his life of scientific and philosophical inquiry through solitary work in a “high-tech” industry of his day, lens grinding.”
The key word in the question, “do you believe in God”, is believe. Whether you say G0d, Allah, Nature, or Football, there seems to be a consensus that something exists. Is belief the best way to approach this issue? What are the middle three letters of believe?
FWIW, Dr. Einstein pondered the God question from time to time. While video of Dr. Einstein does exist, there is little way of knowing whether students asked him about God, at every lecture.
The facebook wisdom-fest does not offer a source, for Spinoza’s ideas about Mary’s babydaddy. PG is not a Spinoza scholar, and quit reading the facebook post after a few sentences. He did look at a wikipedia page, and a document from Stanford University. A search was done for the phrase “God would say: Stop praying.” The terms “stop” and “pray” do not appear in either source.
God is in the details. Instead of “do you believe in God”, the question could be “do you believe in a facebook meme?” Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
Truth About Opinions
Chamblee54 is normally a profanity free blog. However, for this piece, certain cuss words are essential to the free flow of information. In other words IF YOU DON’T LIKE CUSS WORDS, YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ THE TEXT.
Once, when his blog was active, a radio whiner referred to a study, that said that one third of all people were not qualified to have opinions. This was said before a commercial break, without saying why this percentage should be without opinions. Possible reasons would be lack of education, inability to think critically, or a disturbing tendency to disagree with the person doing the study.
Opinion is derived from “1250-1300; Middle English < Old French < Latin opīniōn- (stem of opīniō), derivative of opīnārī to opine.” In other words, the verb for sharing these thoughts is the namesake of the idea. The anagram of opinion is onion pi. The Power Thesaurus has 1,326 synonyms for opinion. Many are notoriously anal, like assumption. Or the sister of suppository, supposition.
“Opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got theirs .” The truth is, opinions have more in common with the waste that comes out of the anal sphincter, than the port of exit. Feces (thesis) is the product of food fed into the digestive system. Opinions are the result of information (and misinformation) fed into the thought system. Doodoo is influenced by the digestive system, like opinions are influenced by the attitudes, and thought patterns, of the individual. They all stink.
“Four Jews, Five opinions” is another crowd pleaser, like “You are entitled to your opinion.” The latter is usually said when you disagree with what you have just heard. When a Court of Law issues a ruling, it is called an opinion. Sometimes, a justice will write a dissenting opinion. When getting a provider to pay for a procedure, you often need to get a second opinion.
Opinions are frequently more valued by the giver than by the receiver . Some opinions are best kept to the owner. You should be wary of someone who feels that his shit does not stink, because he will usually feel the same about his opinions. You don’t have to have an opinion about everything. Many things are beyond or control, or do not interest you. Also, you should be wary of those who try to “fire up” your opinions. Often these people do not have the best of motives.
Opinions are seldom humble, no matter what the owner of the opinion might say. In fact, the act of holding an opinion is often self aggrandizing, and contrary to humility. Opinions are seen as a way of asserting ones individuality. Many people have lives of quiet desperation, full of struggle and turmoil. There are many situations where what the individual thinks is simply useless to the powers that be. In times like this, having opinions can restore a sense of self worth to the individual. I am somebody. I have my opinion. This does not mean that anyone is listening.
This is a repost with pictures from The Library of Congress. U.S.S. Brooklyn, after supper Edward H. Hart was the photographer, working for Detroit Publishing Co. The picture was taken between 1896 and 1899. The pictures are more reliable than the text.
A David Bowie Book
David Bowie: A Life was sitting on the biography shelf at the Chamblee library. It is an “oral biography.” Dylan Jones gets the blame, and the copyright. He took a bunch of interviews, and curated salient passages into a narrative. It is a fun book to read, full of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
The Amazon one star reviews beg to differ. Guitar Gregg “I thought this would be biography not assorted comments. Very few comments from David Bowie. Who cares what Debora Harry or hundreds of “Joe blows” have to say? No pictures? 500 pages? Too much too little. Buy his cd’s instead.” worst read ever “Belongs in the fire … worst read ever!”
PG enjoyed DBAL. At some point, the lurid tales of depravity got too quotable, and PG started keeping a list. In this book report, we will use this list, until the list, or the reader’s attention span, is exhausted. There may be another installment. Part one was published last week.
“There’s one instance — probably included just so it would be cited — about someone calling Bowie’s room in New York with an offer of a still-warm corpse. “The town had never seen anything like David before,” says onetime groupie Josette Caruso. “And he obviously looked like such a freak that some sick people thought he might be into necrophilia.” (He wasn’t.) (Page 142)
Page 146 “He (Lou Reed) had an auteur complex, and Bowie didn’t fit into that. Lou was also a prime member of the awkward squad. He could lose a charm competition with Van Morrison.” In 1972 David had gone through years of struggle, and was starting to make it. After the Ziggy Stardust tour, he was hot. At this time, David wound up helping two struggling artists, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop
The Elton John/Rolling Stone article was published during one Iggy phase. “May 1975 — It’s four in the morning, Hollywood time, and David Bowie is twitching with energy. … Bowie clutches his heart and beams like a proud father watching his kid in the school play. His whisper is full of wonder. “They just don’t appreciate Iggy.” he is saying. “He’s Lenny fucking Bruce and James Dean. When that adlib flow starts, there’s nobody like him. It’s verbal jazz, man!” … Bowie and Iggy never did make it back into the studio. Pop slept past the booked time, called up drunk several nights later and when Bowie told him to “go away” — meaning “hang up” — Iggy did just that. Now he’s disappeared. “I hope he’s not dead,” says Bowie, “he’s not a good act.” Iggy will show up later in this story.
Page 151 has stories from the Ziggy tour. In Seattle, the entourage went to a gay bar, and someone invited David to a party. When the next day came, and the tour needed to go to the next city, David was nowhere to be found. When he finally called the hotel, all he knew was that he was in a house, with a lot of trees around it. A hotel employee talked to David on the phone, and they managed to figure out where he was.
Page 155 Lori Mattox was a fifteen year old rock fan in 1972. “We got to the Beverly Hilton, and all went up to Bowie’s enormous suite. … We were getting stoned when, all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens and there is Bowie in this beautiful red and orange and yellow kimono … “Lori, darling, can you come with me? … Of course I did. Then he escorted me into the bedroom, gently took off my clothes, and de-virginized me.”
There is a lot of text about David’s sex life. The boy got around, in spite of, or because of, his open marriage with Angela. Apparently, nature was generous with David. While performatively gay during this era, David made plenty of exceptions with ladies. DBAL is an entertaining book.
Page 176 Ava Cherry was a girlfriend who stuck around. “… and yes, we did have some fun together. We were staying at the Sherry-Netherland one night in New York, where David had given a party for Rudolph Nureyev. At the end of the party, everyone was gone apart from me and David and Mick, (Jagger) so it just ended up with the three of us sleeping together.”
Page 263 87 pages later, David has burned out on American rock stardom, and is living on top of an auto parts store in Berlin. This is the phase which produced Low and Heroes, two creative, though non commercial, efforts. Iggy Pop is back in the picture. Longtime assistant Coco Schwab never left. Iggy Pop : “There’s sevent days in a week: two for bingeing, two for recovery, and three more for any other activity.” Coco Schwab “I remember one elevated subway ride where you ride into East Berlin with no checkpoints and then back out with Absinthe into the west. Trust Jim (Iggy) to find that one.”
Page 277 David meets Adrian Bellew, who is in Frank Zappa’s band. David is talking to Adrian about doing a tour with David. At some point, the two go to a restaurant, where they run into Frank Zappa. “…David tried to strike up a conversation with Frank, saying “This is quite a guitar player you have here” And Frank said, “Fuck you, Captain Tom.” David persisted, and said “Oh come on now, Frank, surely we can be gentleman about this?” And Frank said, “Fuck you, Captain Tom.” … so David said, “So you really have nothing to say?” To which Frank said, “Fuck you, Captain Tom.”
Picture are from The Library of Congress. Russell Lee took the photographs in April, 1941. The setting was Chicago, IL. The bar at Palm Tavern, Negro restaurant on 47th Street. Chicago IL Having fun at roller skating party at Savoy Ballroom. Chicago IL This is a repost.
Six Letter Word
This is a repost from 2013. There is yet another blog post about Shirley Q. Liquor, I’m Tired of Explaining Why I’m Offended by a Racist Drag Queen. SQL is a comic character, a black woman played by Charles Knipp, a white man. The concept is not pleasing to many people.
There is a sentence in the post which needs to be broken down. “Here’s my question: When people like me say that something is potentially racist, why do we have to defend ourselves to White people who act as the final jurist of the opinion?”
To begin, people very seldom say anything as restrained as potentially racist. The judgment is made with great force and certainty. The accuser appoints herself judge, jury, and hangwoman. There is a rush to be seen denouncing the so called racist, usually at top volume.
Racist is a six letter words. It is a word that gets attention. Racist is casually tossed around, and is filtered out by many people. Maybe, just maybe, there are better ways to deal with situations without using this six letter epithet.
Last summer, PG received a mailer that had some questionable content. It discussed the creation of a city of Brookhaven. The mailer was displayed, and the racially obnoxious aspects of it were discussed.
On election day, the voters chose to create a new city. Protest did not do any good. Would using a six letter label have made any difference? Probably not. This blog does not have that large of a readership. Also, some people who were troubled by the mailer felt that a new city was the correct thing to do. PG just wanted to let people know he was not pleased.
PG is white, and can only speak for himself. When he hears the word racist, his BS detector kicks into action. These arguments are rather one sided, with white people usually the bad guys. If you want to influence behavior, you might think twice before tossing a six letter expression into your speech.
There is a logical fallacy in that sentence. You make a statement, go past considering whether or not it is true, and go directly to asking “why.” When is a person made to feel that “we have to defend ourselves to White people who act as the final jurist of the opinion?” Do these PWOC (People With Out Color) use a weapon to force this explanation? Why would you have to explain yourself anyway?
It is *racially specific* that she says white people in this sentence. Would it be better if a POC (Person of Color) didn’t automatically believe everything the author says? PWOC PG has observed POC acting as “the final jurist” on racial matters.
When you hyperdefine a concept like racism, you run the risk of defining racism so narrowly that offensive entertainers do not fit the definition. Shirley Q. Liquor talking about her nineteen babydaddies does not affect the larger issues of white privilege. Or maybe racism is anything that annoys a POC. At some point, the six letter word does not mean very much.
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.
In This McMansion
A popular yard sign begins with “IN THIS HOUSE WE BELIEVE:” (That is the last time we will use all-caps.) There are some opinions expressed in this piece. It should be noted that what follows is merely one person’s opinions. You are free to agree, or disagree, as you see fit.
The ITH yard sign (ITHYS) states: “in this house, we believe: black lives matter, women’s rights are human rights, no human is illegal, science is real, love is love, kindness is everything” The sign is an aesthetic nightmare. You have seven lines of all-caps text. Every sans-serif line is a different size and color. There appear to be multiple fonts used.
ITHYS is annoying. People are too proud of their opinions, and too eager to share them. It does not matter whether you agree or not. Somebody is confronting you with their beliefs. Sometimes, it is worse when you do agree, or partially agree. ITHYS presents bumper sticker arguments, not a respectful discussion of complex issues.
ITHYS is a reminder that we live in a Christian society. This is more than just the widespread acceptance of the Christian doctrines. Christianity is a religion of beliefs and persuation, not practices and contemplation. Even if you move away from the specific doctrines of Christianism, you still accept the primacy of beliefs. It is important to persuade others to accept your beliefs. You see others as a collection of beliefs, rather than a person.
ITHYS begs for satire. Sacred cows need to be ground into hamburgers. I started to write down ideas. Soon, I had In This House Poem. (ITHP) It is embedded above. “In this house we are all God’s children, It is not what you say but how you say it, Don’t need to talk more need to listen more, Clever arguments are not always the truth, Science is the questioning not the trust, Beliefs are your thoughts with an attitude, Hate wins when you fight hate with hate, You are entitled to your opinion.”
The first four words are the same. ITHYS starts off “In this house we believe:”, followed by six beliefs. ITHP says “In this house we are all God’s children.” One is rhetoric, one is acceptance. It doesn’t matter how you read the fine print, you are still one of us. The ITHYS beliefs are presented in all-caps. (One of the rejected lines for ITHP was “Writing in all-caps is shouting.”) In ITHP, the doctrine is less important than your basic humanity. “Beliefs are your thoughts with an attitude.”
On May 1, 1992, Rodney King had seen the policeman who beat him acquitted. Cities coast to coast were in violent upheaval. Despite this, at 7:01 pm, Mr. King stood in front of a camera. “People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along? Can we get along? Can we stop making it, making it horrible for the older people and the kids? . . . Please, we can get along here. We all can get along. I mean, we’re all stuck here for a while. Let’s try to work it out. Let’s try to beat it. Let’s try to beat it.”
Part of the religion of beliefs is persuading other people to agree with you. You get into semantics, rhetoric, and using logic as a weapon. People confuse presenting a clever argument with speaking the truth. Ideas become more important than people. Not everyone feels this is the best way to live. “You are entitled to your opinion.”
ITHP is just eight ideas. We do not mention many important issues. Black lives matter. People disagree about the existence of God. And much, much more. Many of those issues are complicated. An alternative yard sign says: “simplistic platitudes, trite tautologies, and semantically overloaded aphorisms are poor substitutes for respectful and rational discussions about complex issues”
An amazon review has the final word today. juleskywalker “Don’t buy! So CHEAP it didn’t last 3 weeks! This sign is so cheap, that after only 3 weeks outside, one side has almost entirely peeled off, and the other side isn’t much better. It’s not from the sun either, since it’s the north facing side that is pictured. For comparison, we’ve had a BLM sign next to it for the same time period, and that one looks brand new.” Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
≠
@WokeTemple “words = words, violence = violence, words ≠ violence, silence = silence, silence ≠ violence Any questions?” @WokeTemple “Salvation from Whiteness via the the Spirit of The Holy Greta. #CRT, Critical Race Theory & White Fragility. Join our Holy Woke Crusade.”
PG saw this, and decided to make a snappy tweet using ≠. It took a bit of looking, with one person saying to find ≠ somewhere, and copy it. Finally, a video emerged: type 2260 followed by alt x.
Before seeing the video, PG resorted to googling ≠. The first result was surprising. “Some white supremacists have adopted the mathematical sign “≠” (Not Equal or Not Equal To) as a white supremacist symbol. The use of this symbol is an attempt to claim that different races are not equal to each other (and to imply that the white race is superior).”
A google search, “use of ≠ as white supremacist symbol”, was not very helpful. The first two results were the Anti-Defamation League. There was an NPR story about the OK sign, and a few websites that are no longer in business. The first page of google did not have any white supremacists using ≠. Neither did Know Your Meme.
Hate on Display™ Hate Symbols Database documents 214 such symbols. No date is shown, and the list is possibly out of date. Many prison gangs are covered. The only non-white symbol, seen during a superficial perusal of the list, is the New Black Panther Party. Some of the entries are head scratchers.
“5 Words is a reference to a white supremacist slogan: “I have nothing to say.” In the late 1990s, white supremacists Tom Metzger and Alex Curtis popularized this phrase, which they claim should be the only words white supremacists should ever speak to the police.”
“ACAB stands for “All Cops Are Bastards” and is a slogan … in the skinhead subculture. Because non-racist skinheads (including “traditional” skinheads and anti-racist skinheads) may use this acronym as well as racist skinheads, it should be carefully judged in the context in which it appears.”
“The “Bowlcut” is an image of a bowl-shaped haircut resembling the one sported by white supremacist mass killer Dylan Roof. People who use the “bowlcut” image or other “bowl” references admire Roof and call for others to emulate his racist murders.”
“Pit bulls are the favorite dogs of many white supremacists, because they are perceived as savage fighters. One particular pit bull graphic has become a common white supremacist symbol.” Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
58 Things To Be Grateful For
There is a meme going on, 50 Happy Things: Bloggers Unite in Flood of Gratitude. PG heard about it from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, the perpetrator of Friday Fictioneers. The idea is to set a timer for ten minutes, and write a list of fifty things you are grateful for, or that made you happy.
It has been a slow year for writing contests at chamblee54. In August of 2014, a poem, Whitehall Street, was published. Almost immediately, an email came from the yeah write writing contest. Apparently, a line had been crossed, and chamblee54 was no longer permitted to participate in the contest. PG has been slow to find another writing contest to catch his fancy. It should be noted that on the list that follows, you will not find political correctness, sjw, or judgmental bullies.
PG read the description of the contest, and realized that he needed to participate. The resulting list might make good text for a graphic poem. At the very least, the list is good text to go between pictures, from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. The remarkable photo collections that PG has acess to (the other one is The Library of Congress ) are a source of enjoyment. They did not make the list by name.
This is the way the list is. It is not supposed to be comprehensive. As soon as PG set the kitchen timer for ten minutes, he realized a touch of gratitude for this clanging device. It is the first item. Only three people names made the list, which is definitely not a reflection on the many wonderful people who were not named. (One of these names mentioned is a single letter, enclosed by quote marks. Not everyone has a friend like that.) There are a few catch alls, like healthy body, rather than naming all the parts. These parts work better than a man of PG’s age, and experience, has a right to expect.
So anyway, maybe we should just quit blabbering and print the list. There are a total of sixty one, one for each year of this life. These are not numbered… numbering them takes time away from writing down more. They are in groups of ten, in the order that they were written. UPDATE: Thinking was mentioned three times, and reading twice. Maybe editing should have been listed, or at least performed. The new total is 58 items.
kitchen timer, Mac, “J”, Robert, running honda, knees, back, teeth, feet, dick
rest of body, skepticism, sobriety, sense of wonder, computers, photography, gimp, WordPress blog, other peoples dogs, black people
mexicans, reading, thinking, faeries, short mountain, bicycle, house with roof, rain, america, georgia
georgia natives, clothes, foam rubber pad mattress, sleeping platform, sticker pictures, any friends not mentioned, not being broke, good health, listening, batteries
phones, internet, pain medicine, memory of mom and dad, food, anything i don’t think of in ten minutes, freedom from religion, g-d, back yard, rocks
poetry, soap, golden rectangle, being queer, not numbering, not wondering if i have enough, not getting caught dui, freedom from the press, reposting old features
Don’t Yuck On My Yum
Don’t yuck on my yum. This is a thing. It means that if I like something, and you don’t, then keep your disapproval to yourself. Don’t yuck on my yum. PG first heard this saying on the RISK podcast, probably in an episode where host Kevin Allison goes to kink camp. This is a repost.
PG can not track down the exact episode. It is in there somewhere, but looking for it is too much work. OTOH, PG can point out, with great precision, when he became persona non grata in the RISK community. He yucked on somebodies yum.
It started with this episode. Nimisha Ladva told the story “Mother in law.” Nimisha, newly married to David, is dreading a lunch date with his mother, Elaine. David told a story about how Elaine asked him if Nimisha was black. The young bride was outraged. At about ten minutes into the show, Nimisha is ranting about how horrible it was to eat lunch with a racist. PG made a comment in the “RISK! Podcast Fans Discussion Group.”
“I recently sent a link to the Paul Gilmartin story to a friend. He is in the AA program, and I thought he would enjoy the story. Here is the email I sent with that link. – This is a link to a story. It is an AA war story. It starts at 20 minutes. The first story in this show is about an Indian lady, who does not like her Jewish mother in law. At ten minutes into the show, the bride says “I am going to have to spend the day with a racist.” – At this point, I turned off the show in anger. I am sensitive to the term racist, for perfectly obvious reasons. I did not want to listen to the rest of the show. – When I decided to send you the link, I had to listen to the part of the show around the 20 minute mark, so I could know when the war story started. I set the timer for 18 minutes, and listened to the end of the mother in law story. There is a twist in the story, and everyone is friends now. The bride says “I am ashamed of reducing her to her racism.”
As anyone with internet access knows, a comment like that is likely to stir up trouble. People enjoy the sport of trashing another human being because of their racial attitudes. If you follow this link, you can see the dogpile that resulted. It got to be a cliche party, with chestnuts like this: “I would invite you to reflect on your pain in being called racist, and imagine how much worse it is to experience racism. Dismantling racism is the goal, not making sure no ones feelings are hurt.”
Performative name calling does does not affect police brutality, economic opportunity, or access to decent housing. All it does, in this case, is hold up a lady to ridicule, based on her perceived racial values. This social justice performance art goes on all the time, and if you object to it, then you can expect to be called a racist. The white savior considers criticism of their privilege to be racism, and does not have a problem with telling you about it.
It should be noted that their were other yumyucking incidents. The one described merely is the first one. There were other breaches of *community standards*, until Kevin delivered the “you’re an asshole” fatwa. When you do the work of creating a show, you earn the right to ban inconvenient members of the audience. PG can say he did nothing wrong as much as he likes.
Calling people racist is their yum. And when you say that this is not really a good thing to do, you are yucking on their yum. This facebook thread was the first time some of these people have heard that saying racist is not helpful. If you engage with them, you violate an ancient bit of wisdom: Never wrestle with a hog. You will just get dirty, and the pig will enjoy himself. Pictures for this conflict devolution chronicle are from The Library of Congress.
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest 2022 Part Two
Part Two of the 2022 chamblee54 report on The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is here. (BALL wear LIT uhn) Parts one and three are there. Pictures for this affair are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library.”
It was a dark and stormy night, made darker still by the melancholy that gripped the drainpipes of my soul in a plumber’s wrench of despair that opened the u-trap of my consciousness to remove the last, great greaseball of hope. Jim Anderson, Flushing, MI
I stood transfixed at the eerie sight before me, so strange, so odd, so peculiar, so weird, so bizarre, so eldritch—Gods, mine ocular ducts weren’t meant to witness such blasphemous heresy—so indescribable, beyond all possible descriptions, at least in any kind of adjectival way!
Gabriel Burch, Edmond, OK
Even though the heavy snow forecast threatened transportation problems at the mountain pass leading to the social engagement of the season, every invited member of the party had RSVPed in the affirmative, for the single reason that the Donner family chef was nationally recognized for his all-vegan menu. John Hardi, Falls Church, VA
Clear, plump jellyfish lay scattered across the beach, like so many discarded breast implants.
Sara Corris, Brooklyn, NY
The trees sighed with pleasure as the wind caressed their limbs, the lake lapped contentedly at the shore, the grass waved cheerily to all and sundry, and the moon smiled benignly between the playful clouds while George buried his latest victim. Nick Waites, Bishop, Auckland, UK
“The clouds resembled an endless roll of runaway toilet paper that unspooled itself into a massive fluffy pile, the sound of the lightning banged like hundreds of inadvertently dropped toilet seats, and the rain quickly flooded the street and spilled over the curb like a toilet clogged with who-knows-what,” reported eyewitness to the sudden storm and flash flood, Steve Talbot of Steve’s Plumbing. Mark Meiches, Dallas, TX
The pallid North Dakota winter coughed its phlegmy wind in my face, spattering my face with its icy spittle. Andrea Dumas, West Fargo, ND
I’m very very good and I know this because momma told me and all her bridge friends that I was an angel she got when the stork dropped me from the sky and she says I’m such a good girl so if you want to be with a real honest to goodness angel tonight come on down to the corner of Bitcoin and Pussycat Way for a very special time with an angel who accepts American Express.
Sharon Durken, Port Wing, WI
When Big Rita was on parade in a tight skirt, moving like a burlap bag full of bobcats, the men in town sat up and took notice, knowing the hunt was on, for she had run the gamut from wealthy philanthropists to dopeheads and bikers, though, until today, she had maintained a shred of dignity by always rebuffing English professors. John Hardi, Falls Church, VA
Empathy
Today’s production is two stories from 2008. PG walked down New Peachtree Road. This is Atlanta, where there are a couple of hundred roads named Peachtree. No one seems to mind that most of the peach farms are south of Macon. The peaches grow a lot better there. They fuzz comes in heavier, and the pits are pittier. One time Dagwood Bumstead asked why peaches have fuzz. Blondie said, if they has arms they could shave. PG was walking down the road in the rain, with a freight train going down the tracks. This is forty percent of the ingredients for the perfect country and western song.
When PG was younger and drunker, there was a place on Clairmont Road called the Watering Hole. He would go there, drink beer, play pool, and have a good old time. As was the custom in such facilities, there was a jukebox. The patrons put money in the box and played the songs that they wanted to hear. A favorite was “you never even called me by my name” There is a little spoken part, where David Allan Coe talks about the perfect country and western song. This song must talk about rain, Momma, trains, trucks, prison, and gettin’ drunk.
New Peachtree Road has this gravel yard where the eighteen wheelers come and go. There was a big rig backing into place when PG walked by, and he may have heard the truck bump into a trailer. PG walked in the rain, between the train, and a big rig going bump against the trailer. The problem was, Mommas gone, PG doesn’t get drunk, and prison is way too much work. So much for the perfect country and western song.
The songwriter is Steve Goodman. He gave a show at the Last Resort in Athens GA, that a friend of PG attended. Mr. Goodman tells a story about performing on a train, during a series of concerts supporting Hubert Humphrey. It seems like Mr. Goodman had to use the restroom on the train. Now, in those days, the trains did not use holding tanks, but just ejected the matter by the tracks as they rode by. Mr. Goodman was told, do not flush the commode while the train is in the station. Mr. Goodman forgot the instructions. Mr. Humphrey said ”I am going to give the people of this country what they deserve”, Mr. Goodman flushed the commode, and sprayed the crowd.
PG told the Steve Goodman story another time. There was a comment.
“Great to see your blog post that invokes Arlo Guthrie’s version of Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans.” Goodman often doesn’t get his due. You might be interested in my 800-page biography, “Steve Goodman: Facing the Music.” The book delves deeply into the genesis and effects of “City of New Orleans,” and Arlo Guthrie is a key source among my 1,080 interviewees.
The book also delves deeply into “You Never Even Call Me by My Name.” John Prine and David Allan Coe were key interviewees, and the book debunks the notion, promulgated by Coe, that Coe had anything to do with triggering the famous last verse of the song.
Finally, the Humphrey story actually stems from Goodman campaigning for Sen. Edmund Muskie in Florida in early 1972.
You can find out more at my Internet site . Amazingly, the book’s first printing sold out in just eight months, all 5,000 copies, and a second printing of 5,000 is available now. It won a 2008 IPPY (Independent Publishers Association) silver medal for biography. If you’re not already familiar with the book, I hope you find it of interest. ‘Nuff said!”
Back to empathy for a minute. The word always takes PG back to an auditorium in 1971 Clarkston GA. PG was in his first quarter at Dekalb College. Today,the institution is known as Georgia Perimeter College. One of the selling points of college has always been the outside speakers that were brought to campus. This day, the subject was abortion.
A note on set and setting is appropriate. In 1971, New York state had legalized the abortion procedure. Roe vs. Wade was in the pipeline that would lead to the Supreme Court. That ruling would not be issued for another fifteen months. In the meantime, abortion was illegal in 49 states, including Georgia. The debate about abortions was not as politicized as today. The nomenclature of choice and life had not entered the vocabulary.
The Vietnam war was still being fought, although with fewer Americans in combat. The withdrawal of US forces took most of the steam out of the anti war movement. The modern spectacle of a person supporting a war, while claiming to be pro life, did not happen.
PG walked into the auditorium and found a seat. The lady began her presentation. After a few minutes of talk… she said something about a woman who was artificially inseminated with masturbated semen. The house lights were dimmed. A black and white film, of an abortion, was shown. It was noted when the fetus went into the vacuum cleaner attachment. The house lights were brought back up. They should have remained dim, as the woman was not kind on the eyes.
The closing part of her presentation was a song she wrote. She sang acapella. The song was written out of empathy with the not-to-be-born baby. The song was titled ” My mother My grave”. PG left the auditorium, and went to world history class. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Chamblee54 
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