yew and the moonlight

"Good Night -- Sweet Dreams," is a photo by Kit Brice.

A better name for it might be "A Beautiful Nightmare." 

The central pictorial element, the yew tree, is universally known in the west as the primary tree in cemeteries, and as such is a death symbol.

Plus I have always found the moment or hour when the full moon is obscured by clouds and is seen shining behind them as ominous, mildly frightening by itself, and suggestive of death.

There's no denying the beauty of this scene, but it's scary as well.

ptoo! waugh!

This goat may have a limited vocabulary, but he's an awfully effective communicator.  I wonder if he's as fluent in English as he is in Spanish.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dp0Bt2cbcc8

picobo -- i c yo

This is (I think) Picabo Peak. From a few miles north of it she looks like a cat gazing southward at tucson.

"you call this a gummint?"

...was the question Huckleberry's intoxicated father ("Pap") kept asking during his last few drunken days on earth. It's a better question now than it was then, because it's painfully easy to answer -- "No, I call it a mess." The best semi-objective view of this mess I've seen ran as a front-page op-ed by Elizabeth Williamson in today's NY Times.

It may sound paranoid, but I'm convinced that the cob at the top is deliberately causing this clusterfuck, to punish us "little people." We've been so ungrateful, such a bothersome crew, we may as well all be Berniecrats. The fact that some of us still identify as conservative Repugs mitigates nothing.  After all, who are the worst people in Congress?

You thought the job would be as easy and as much fun as campaigning: surprise surprise! Watching 6 hrs of TV a day and tweeting all night don't match the job description, and if we don't pull this turdlet out of that office and send him packing next week, the fault's in us.

no wheels

Folks flock to Phoenix because there’s money here, and lots of it. It’s a city heavily populated by fleshy white people with gluttonous ambitions who drive around in brand new cars that cost more than what my bungalow would sell for. They fear brown skin and live in gated communities. Their own skin rarely touches sunshine or wind. They move from an air-conditioned residence to an enclosed garage to their air-conditioned cars to underground parking garages to air-conditioned buildings.  I always figured that if you don’t feel the        elements, you shut down inside.

Go to Amazon or Powell's Books (Portland, Or) to support this first-time Phoenix author.

the ides of march

"The Ides of March are come, old man." 

"Aye, Caesar, come, but not gone."

--Julius Caesar, Act III, scene one  

If you're like most of us, you can be forgiven for not knowing a thing about what's likely to occur on March 15, 2017. The national government's ability to borrow any further money ends that day, and the next debt ceiling crisis looms as the temporary agreement engineered by Obama and John Boehner in 2015 runs out.

I watched 3 or 4 hours of network news yesterday & never heard a word about it. We're now in countdown mode (Zero minus 9), and I'll be watching the dinner hour news and trying to determine who is the first to give this story front-page play. Other than Jim Kunstler, no one seems to have picked up on the gravity of this crisis.

And that's the second thing I'll forgive Americans for today. "Why is this a crisis?" they ask, knowing that disasters in the past due to the debt-ceiling running out were fairly easily avoided, and could be again this time. All it would take is for Congress to agree to raise the debt ceiling.

But unless you're one of those who thinks it's possible to get blood out of a turnip, you know why THIS Congress will never raise the government's ability to borrow.  This means that on March 16, 2017, we'll be living in a country with huge debts but no income, and by June we'll be dead, stone broke and in total default mode.

Unless we get rid of at least half this government and replace it with one able to accept reality, and maybe even deal with it to some degree, we're looking at a variation on the theme "Weimar Republic, 1923." Either way there are rough times ahead.

krap

Are you feeling this way too? Many who wouldn't admit to having a negative feelings lie awake in the small hours wondering what they ought to pack for FEMA camp.

This feeling is most intense when I read the list of cabinet secretaries Trump says he wants to appoint. Typically, these are dweebs with ø gov't experience, whose only qualification is fantastic riches. For example Betsy Devos, his choice for Education Secretary has no gov't qualifications, though she must know something about how to dismantle education since she's been pushing charter schools for years.
    

What would you like for breakfast?

I was thinking of stuffed bell peppers wiff creemy marshmallow souce,,,,./



Actually, non.
fly eggs, hatched bwown pottartoes, toasst.
wthout no meat, tyvm.
OINJE juicy, BLACK coffee,

and also, why does it get more difficult 2 tipe the longer
1 does it?

cast yer vote & chill

My nephew Trevor noted that he's "Chilling with these dickheads again."

In sum places they're known as z rich's sheep.

I've heard that raw sheep milk makes exquisite cheese no matter where U-B.

And I can tell you from experience that Trev makes rilly rilly gut kaese no madder the udder!

selfie

I feel really good since that nap, like there' s nothing  I CAN'T DO IF I'M SMART and go slow. (except talk).

by trevor @ f***b***

Rather than sit through this depraved and ruthless presidential election, I'm going on a two week kayak trip on Lake Powell. Launching from Bullfrog Saturday Oct 29 I'll paddle to Escalante arm over three days. Spend 4 exploring 40, 50 mile, and Davis before heading south to San Juan arm over 2 days visiting reflection and hidden passage. Spend three up San Juan then three back to Bullfrog on Nov. 12. I'm voting with my arms and legs, head and heart, words and emotions. I'm voting for the the restoration and expansion of wild places for their own sake. I'm voting for the draining of lake powell at glen canyon dam in accordance with the Fill Meade First strategy. Get our stuff out of the way and let nature come back in. Leave it how it was.

prisoners of trumpistan, day 5

R U QUEER in any way?                                                                

Good 4 U. U get to go to the front of the line.

Check out this 2-minute video @ Youtube entitled
"Donald Trump And Mike Pence Want To Roll Back LGBTQ Equality Together" 4 the ugly details.

I don't know about U, but that "together" bit in the video title sounds vaguely suspect 2  me.

you got 2 b a football hero...

...2 get along with the beautiful girls.

Bronko Nagurski
was the greatest two-way player ever.
He played tackle on the defensive line & fullback on offense. 

nunne & pyrate

A nunne & a pyrate took 2 the sea
in a pea-green boat, with a will.          
They took some raw, local hunny 
And plenty of money, wrapped in a hundred-dollar bill.

Ye pyrate sang with an olde banjo
"You R the nunne sent from above,
 & wheresoever U travel I, too, shall go
While you school me in matters of love."

The nunne replied "O you fill me with pride,
My pyrate and poetic string  duster.
Think we oughta get married?
I'm glad you feel that way, very

Much so." And off they sailed
For a year and a day, till they came to 
The place where the tum-tum tree grows,
And there in the woods, a piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose.

Says the pyrate "O Pig will you give for a Morgan
Your ring?'' Says the Piggy "I will."
Whitebeard took it away, and they were married next day
By the Turtle on Capitol Hill.


The Nunne was so high she made a punkin-spice pie
Which they ate with a runcible spork,
They then danced all nite with the help of  moonlight, 
And the lamb lay down with the pork.

The pork, and z lambkin se coucher avec la porque.
  

                                  


This is a take-off on Edward Lear's "The Owl and the Pussycat" which  you can read right here on Catboxx.

cocking a snook at ye kynge

Is it a painting or a political cartoon? In the tradition initiated by Daumier ad followed by George Grosz, and Bob Crumb it's both.

As a depiction of the structure of contemporary neo-feudalism, & the way living under such a system feels in the first world, it's accurate. The third world is represented here too, with the 6 tiny figures at the bottom of the page standing in for the billions of India, Africa, Latin America, and all he various places on earth where the people feel as if they're the property of North American and/or western European corporations.

And most of these billions are cooperative, at least on the surface. Only in the far right bottom corner do we see the initial sign of rebellion, as a boy of 10 or 12, of undeterminable race & nationality, disobeys the instruction to salute and instead cocks a snook at the king.                                                                       

The King, sitting baby-like on his throne with feet dangling above the floor, is as far removed as possible from the billion or so children dying of starvation in his realm, all of them represented by this one insignificant figure who is nearly squeezed out of the picture, & to a lesser extent by the tiny waif clinging to her mothert's saari near he middle of the line of neofeudal serfs we used to call "peasants."

s

litt'o asbo

For you yanks who don't speak that much English,

ASBO is a British acronym standing for Anti-Social Behaviour Order.

If an ASBO is broken or flagrantly disregarded, it can quickly be converted into an arrest warrant with a detailed list of particulars. For example, the ASBO recipient pictured above, Liam Wilkinson of Chorley, UK, a medium-size town about 20 miles northwest of Manchester, is forbidden by his ASBO from being drunk in public, or in possession of an open container, or pelting passers-by with eggs and/or stones(!). Legally, an ASBO is like a parole order without a conviction.

Wilkinson has become a cause celebre in England where he is known as Britain's smallest thug. At 19 years he's attained a stature of 3' 9" and is apparently through growing.

Under the circumstances, Liam Wilkinson would have to possess an unusual strength of character to avoid harboring
 antisocial feelings. The problem at this point in his life is keeping those feelings under control, and the answer lies in avoiding alcohol altogether.

It's a very tall order for a very short guy. I've Been There and DoneThat and it's never easy for anybody to quit drinking, especially one familiar with its anaesthetic effects in ameliorating negative social situations such as being bullied or harassed, and so forth. Even geography is working against young Liam; the northern shelf of Europe, the broad plain that runs from the frozen wastes of Siberia west to the Atlantic, then continues across the islands of Great Britain and Ireland, is home to the most hard-core rummies in the history of civilization. Alcoholics Anonymous is not a popular organization in northern Europe, with its antri-religous mass culture and near-universal aversion to the G-word.

Unpopular or not, AA is still there, still a possibility for the afflicted, and while Liam Wilkinson and millions of others may be repulsed by all the musing about God and AA happy talk at first, many will eventually return to listen and learn, and find a better way of life.

Something tells me this guy's case is worth following up. 

joey, the clown from london town, en tableau

                     Before there was drama there was tableau. It's amazing how little dialog is needed to convey a complete story in all its complexity, especially a universal tale like the one shown above.

          A popeyed baby stands in front of the group slightly to the left. A regular wellspring  of mucous and saliva, the little mocoso nonetheless is an object of diabolical lust for Old Ned, who hovers just to Joey's left, ready at the first opportunity to pounce on the child's innocent and spotless soul. Joey restrains the Devil slightly with his left shoulder, for he is fully aware of his own role here, and knows that if push comes to shove, he can expect little real assistance from the self-important, self-satisfied, and stupid policeman.

It's incredible to me how easily we recognize the archetypes on display here: Joey, the universal human, stares straight back at the viewer as if appealing for some relief in his struggle to protect innocence from the yellow-eyed evil on his left and the well-intentioned but inept "good" elements of society on his right.

the fat babies

band  members

Beau Sample- string bass / leader
Andy Schumm-cornet
Dave Bock- trombone
John Otto - reeds
Paul Asaro - piano
Jake Sanders - banjo
Alex Hall - drums


For those of us who feel we've been wasting away in a culturally valueless universe this past half century, 'never fear,' b'cuz the cavalry is here. Fat Babies, drawn from the 20-40 age cohort, play a scholarly, wonkey, square jawed, and restrained version of the music that started in Chicago and migrated to New York City in the 20's. They render it carefully, with great precision, but leave plenty of  room for individual expression.

The Babies' organizaton is key to their approach; it's the brain child of bassist and front man Beau Sample. On the bandstand, the front line of horns appears to be directed  by Cornetist Andy Schumm, a talented & dedicated Beiderbecke devotee. 

It's the cornet which provides Z energy that propels this precision instrument called 'fat babies.' Check out the sounds AND the sources, and I think you'll agree.

"Stampede" by Miff Mole's and Red Nichols's Stompers  (1926) highlights the New York style at it most idiosyncratic. Fletcher Henderson wrote this tune when the Bix movement was waxing strong as a pop influence, AND Andy SCHUMM's superb re-invention (cue up yr tape player to 14:00 minutes to catch the beginning) is reverential enough 2 satisfy the strictest know-it-all purist; I only wish the Babies could get a drummer who doesn't need to read every stroke he plays. A little more starch in the rhythm section generally is in order if the Fat Babies are going to come up to the (very high), old - timey standards of our ancestors. 

nooooooooooooooo

Seems like to me the single politucal  party which dominates our daily lives these days consists of the "in" & the "out" crowds, and that the only real action occurring any more is the struggle of these two remaining elements for hegemony and domination.

The half called Demolicans have been on the outs 4 16 yrs, having been tarred with  the "liberal" label and brushed off immediately after the 9/11 attack. According to Dr. JOHNSON, This method of observation shows all religions 2 B equally false, whereas for the remnant of New Dealers they are equally true, and to ordinary American photojournalists, equally silly and childish.

Now  another election yr has come, and we've never seen a worse one. I plan 2 vote on all the down-ballot races; for the big prize, I plan to keep my opinion 2myself.

1,000 words

Thass wass a picture (pix) is said to be wurf, HOMES!

However, in the cases we see here, because of the peculiar nature of the subject, Mike Pence, one of the crowned heads in this  years'  political beauty contest (yay, hooray), there's so much content, indeed narrative  in each shot that considerably fewer than 1,000 words is necessary to convey the topic to a state of utter redundancy.

At 57, Mike Pence is a very  good-looking man -- you'd have to be blind to miss it -- and he's good looking in a particularly politician-conservative kind of way. Although he's easily

 the best appearing of the four crowned heads this year, Mike hardly ever wears a crown. To  do so would draw attention away from his most important feature -- vice-presidential  hair, and not a single one is out of place. (74 words) As you can se it's my best feature 2, even when wet. 10Q  bubbles, every noche.



And on occasion, storm clouds pass over the veepish visage, rendering it stony & cold, and not belonging 2 one who is wanted in the White House except maybe 4 security detail.   

The picture in this case says "Mike Pence is pissed -- and we're told it happens frequently." (9 words).
        

Here's another possibly less obvious but I've been told more typical Pence anger routine, the one that begins with "I'll bet you didn't know this finger was loaded, Buckwheat!" in this case it's aimed at George Stephanopoulos, who refused to abandon a line of questioning re: Indiana's new anti-gay-and-lesbian law minted under Pence's governorship. He insists it's for their "equal protection" and ordered George S. to cease his line of questioning or face a discharge from the incident...

To his credit, that's the only finger I've seen 
Gov. Pence use. He's a clean-cut, middle-class white boy, polite and not given to profanity. His homicidal instincts are buried deeply enough that Mom will never notice.