A Spectacular Guardian of Sleep

"As long as necessity is socially dreamed, dreaming will remain a social necessity. The spectacle is the bad dream of a modern society in chains and ultimately expresses nothing more than its wish for sleep. The spectacle is the guardian of that sleep."
-- Guy de Bord, Society of the Spectacle, 1967

Well, hello! I have a blog over here, don't I? Poor little critter has been neglected in the unusual avalanche of spectacle that characterized April and May of a year that has already proven itself a mad Sufi whirl, even before its halfway mark. No, I am not trying to deliberately push the sensual limits, to see what happens to pixelslip if my eyes drink so much they hate themselves in the morning. It wasn't me that gave us a late-April snowstorm knocking full-sized trees down everywhere, mere days before a big corporate personhood forum, which itself was mere days before student immigration walkouts and a Haunted Windchimes performance. And who told Shearwater they could come to the Walnut Room before I'd taken my first breath at the end of that April week? It wasn't me that just happened to place Frightened Rabbit, Heartless Bastards, and Flobots on three successive days in the middle of May, to be followed by Deb Walker's fabulous immigration forum and Bill Sulzman's study group on the Fort Carson Combat Aviation Brigade. (Oh, and ye gods, I forgot Vince D. visiting Colorado between the Deb and Bill events, sampling beers and listening to Smoke Fairies and Laura Marling. The event horizon starts blurring within 72 hours!)

One could always let certain events pass by, but then who would be living the unexamined life then? Or wait... is experiential passion unexamination? Don't ask such questions! Go away son, you make me nervous. There are plenty of bottles of patent elixir left to sell.

I will plead guilty to launching the cartoon version of One Great Big Conspiracy during this time of madness. Yes, Amir Fassad begged to be brought back to life, and what better time than during an oil-spill-German-funding-crisis-Greek-collapse-Icelandic-volcano-Kyrgyz-riot-Thai-boilover-and-Iran-bluster safety dance, all brought to you by Strategic Command? Below is the most recent installment, where Angela Merkel plays the lead role in Clarissa Explains It All.



Now for heaven's sake, don't worry about me out on that there dance floor, this is not a scene from They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Leftover poems from poetry month are like overflowing flasks of water, and I've been handed wonderful refreshers from Marilyn Basel and Ruth Mowry and Carolyn Srygley-Moore and Sam Mills and Lee Upton and many more wonderful EMT specialists ready with intravenous sticks if the dancers are too far gone. Not there yet, not close. The dervishes stop reflecting when the spinning pixelslip makes the world fall away, and this particular spring dance made the world grow closer. But now it's time to change partners and do-si-do, which means the smart dancer catches a quick nap under the punchbowl.

I noticed something about deBord's quote at the top of this post. He assumes the spectacle is always a nightmare, yet my recent dreams have been happy and full of grace. The one you'll find sleeping in chains is probably the well-meaning agent of change who expected something that looked like evolution in this particular physical life. Silly rabbit. I told someone the other day, we have been Homer Simpsons for thousands of years, and Homer Simpsons we shall remain. Yeah, I've been touting that "loving universe of shiny things" shtick, and I'm shticking to it. But the shiny things are not all going to display provenient grace at once. In fact, some of them will look pretty durned nasty. But if each turn on the dance floor reveals a flash of grace, the chains have vanished and the spectacle is no longer a bad dream. It is only your underlying soundtrack until the next dance begins. For now, though, careful about spilling the punch, I'm sleeping right below you. I'll be up for another dance after Memorial Day ends.

Choosing Focal Points

I suppose there were reasons for following the health-care deliberations on C-SPAN March 21, were it not for the far more interesting results in March Madness, which kept Michigan State Spartans in the crawling distance, at least for the time being. At least the turmoil surrounding the final health debate let us see tea-party activists wearing their true colors, shouting "nigger" and "faggot" at members of Congress, and prompting RNC Chairman Michael Steele to admit that a sector of the tea party crew wore stupidity as a favored outfit.

But that's about as far as my excitement extends. How can I spend time worrying about a bill that has removed public options, ignores a woman's right to accept or turn down an abortion, and does little to really crack down on insurance companies - while driving up deficits? In short, I can't. I understand Dennis Kucinich's decision to say that the health bill may not be real change, but it starts a ball rolling. My problem is, I don't play incrementalism. I like the long bomb in football, the mid-court basket attempt, the radical risk against all possible odds. This health care stuff is tedious, and my eyes glaze over. Pixelslip is fuzzing me out.

But I had plenty of things to be perfectly focused about this week. New efforts in June and July at national conferences to prepare critiques of the Nuclear Posture Review and Quadrennial Defense Review. Further meetings on Colorado Springs' homeless encampment issues. And yet more invigorating time with the mighty mighty Flobots. Folks following this blog know how much I reiterate my respect for this Denver band for walking the walk of many, living up to commitments for social change, and making great music in the process. This past week, they gave an in-store concert of new music at Denver's Twist & Shout:



And then Flobots' viola player, Mackenzie Roberts, played the national anthem for a Nuggets game:



So forgive me for thinking these are the things that matter, and that health care as provided to us in a flawed bill is somewhere where I have no dog in the hunt. My dogs are too busy acting like toddlers in time out. My own dog, Misty the husky, was chasing mule deer in our recent snowstorm:



And my daughter's dog, Max, was visiting the homestead and establishing dominance where he could:



Incrementalists would no doubt say that lazy sods like me allow reaction to take place. And as they nitpick health care to death, I'll fall asleep. We all have to focus on what we deem important, and I'm concentrating on March Madness, Flobots, keeping dogs separated, dazzling risks, and a Loving Universe of Shiny Things. Lots of 20/20 vision for that.

No Buddhist Silence: Terra Naomi, Sarah Gill, Edith's Paper Chain, and the Road to Shambhala

Appropriate, somehow, that I got my first glimpse of the Stupa honoring Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche this past week. Both the Tibetan Buddhists and my Methodist preacher made presentations in recent days on the value of silence, and the way that activity and experience intrudes on the Being There. Well, shit, flunked that bardo pond. There has been more bizarre and inexplicable experience in the last few days intruding on any potential meditation, the only answer is to just ride the flow until it stops, then absorb it.

Moving backwards from Sunday, the afternoon at Colorado Springs Pridefest was supposed to be a simple ACLU task of passing around Mardi Gras beads and cardboard fans. (Video of a rain-spattered parade is here.) My back was to the stage at Acacia Park, and it seemed odd that I heard a singer apparently covering Terra Naomi's "Vicodin." It didn't occur to me until the final half of "Say It's Possible" that the person in question really was Terra Naomi, who had been flown to the fest for a single Colorado gig - right here in our little duckburg. Shit again. Missed the direct experience, but Trungpa was whispering "be still, be still."



Besides, I was a wreck from too many margaritas the night before, celebrating and mourning the departure of the dynamo of Denver, Sarah Gill, organizer for AFSC, who was heading to Atlanta and the CDC. Had a wonderful chat with an organizer from Fort Collins. Here's Eric Wright singing a farewell song to the tune of "Streets of Laredo," and yes, that's Jamie/Jonny 5 on the porch, who assured everyone after the last verse that Flobots would inform the poor Sarah-less masses when something was going on.



The entire day on Friday was spent driving Patty (Carol's friend from high school), Deb, and Susie to the retreat at Shambhala Mountain Center at Red Feather Lakes - an astonishing drive west of Fort Collins. It's like the song says, "how does the light shine," etc. You can watch the thrilling walk around the Stupa here.

Oh, and the night before, Abby came home from Australia, surprise of surprises. Before going to DIA to pick her up, it was necessary to see the free studio show of Edith Makes a Paper Chain and Electric Illuminati, two truly illuminating Colorado Springs bands. There's a single Edith sample below, you can find more at the usual YouTube hangout, but I honestly have to stop experiencing and start the silence, or I'll be stuck on this wheel of karma forever. If so, I'll carry the Flip video along to this bardo stage so it's all on the record with a film at 11. But for now, the rest is silence.

Flobots Community Space Opens in Denver

I'm always writing about Flobots because I'm so impressed that they walk the talk, more than any band I can think of (check this blog's archives for more). The band runs two interlinked nonprofits for social change, flobots.org and fightwithtools.org. On June 12, they opened a special Larimer Street community space in Denver for nonprofits to work on social, political, arts projects. The evening began with Serafin Sanchez's jazz band:



Then, Flobots poets/singers Jonny 5 and Brer Rabbit did a welcome/thank-you session:



I talked with the new flobots.org executive director Laura Bond about plans for the site:



... and then talked with board member Sarah Gill about how this crazy opportunity arose:



The evening ended with some very moving speeches from Lesley Johnson and Joshua Watkins, about what it meant to become a member of the Flobots' Street Team:



Now, even in the midst of a world in turmoil, how can you stay pessimistic in the midst of energy like this?

Flobots on New Year's Eve

Fight With Tools conference climaxed with a stunning New Year's Eve Flobots performance at the Gothic Theatre. Above is "Same Thing." Follow the links in this sentence to hear a new prose-poem-song "America Will Be," as well as "Stand Up," "Mayday!!!", and a cover of The Turtles' "So Happy Together."

Here's conference street team members getting
ready for a midnight confetti throw.
Happy New Year Everyone.
Stay positive and fight with tools
for a more just society in 2009.

Fight With Tools Conference

The Flobots formed a non-profit group for community organizing, Fight With Tools, which held its first annual conference at the end of 2008. The band has funded the initial costs of launching community groups in several cities, working on topics like immigration reform and militarism. They are performing a New Year's Eve show just down the road from Denver University, at The Gothic. It's refreshing to see a band that not only talks a consistent political talk, but walks the walk by funding efforts to make things better.

Below is a video of band members welcoming everyone to the conference. Other highlights include a militarism workshop with a game of Jeopardy, and a talk by Dan Conerd from the Iraq Veterans Against the War, on the reality of deployment. Here's another video from Wednesday, with Jonny 5 and Brer Rabbit leading a workshop on Strategies for Change.







The first day concluded with a vigil at the State Capitol in downtown Denver, to protest Israel's bombing of the Gaza Strip. There were more than 200 people there, an inspiring sight.

DNC Day Four: Rage, Flobots, IVAW March, and Code Pink Fun

Wednesday represented the highlight of DNC street action, with a great free concert, a fantastic street march led by Iraq vets, and a Code Pink party serenaded by David Rovics. The concert took so long to enter that I missed all of State Radio and half of The Coup. With battery problems galore, I only took brief snippets of performances, beginning with The Flobots' "Same Thing" below ...



... and continuing with "War Going On for Your Mind" (1 and 2), "Stand Up" (1 and 2), the fantastic poem/song "I-R-A-Q", "Fight with Tools" (1 and 2), and of course, "Handlebars." (Sorry, "Rise" fans, but the batteries were shot for the encore.) Oh, and did I mention Jello Biafra introduced The Flobots?

Before the RATM performance, IVAW members came out in uniform to read their letter to Obama, calling for immediate end to the war, health care (including PTSD care) for all vets, and reparations for the Iraqi people. Rage Against the Machine kept a level of screaming invective going under the familiar red star, for "Guerilla Radio"



In this case, I couldn't finish the song because I was in the mosh pit and got body-slammed. The last clarion call for "Guerilla Radio" is here. Here's a video of "Bulls on Parade." At the end, Zack brought out Wayne Kramer of the MC5, the only band to stay in the parks of Chicago in 1968 after Daley cleared the streets. They played MC5's anthem, "Kick Out the Jams, Motherfucker."

When Zack and Wayne asked the audience to join them in an unapproved march to the Pepsi Center, I was skeptical that many would join in, as most attendees were just there for free tickets. To my surprise, over 5,000 joined the call. As we started out, Zach and Tom Morello hustled to join the vets in the front:



The march proceeded two miles down Brighton Blvd., then on to Broadway and Arapahoe. The police were guiding it without problems for a while, but as we approached the underpass into downtown, the march was stopped every couple blocks with warnings about "failure to disperse." The first police block was resolved by Code Pink, and in later blocks, orders from the city allowed the parade to proceed. As Brer Rabbit of The Flobots was leading a segment of the parade, some guy was handing out blue tubes that made even-octave harmonies when you twirled them - dozens of folks were twirling tubes, saying "What does this sound like? Sounds like change!" Here's one parting shot of the group at Auraria Campus, outside the Pepsi Center fence, where IVAW met with Vets for Obama and got commitment for the three points in the Obama platform.

My friend David Chase and I had tickets to the Nader rally at Magness (my only real reason to go was to see Nellie McKay), but once Frances Mendenhall and Edwina Vogan said they were going to the Code Pink party, well, what other choice was there? Guess David Rovics thought so too, because there he was headlining the evening entertainment:



After singing "Pirates," David went on with such winners as "Operation Iraqi Liberation," "Alligator Dicks," and "Punk Rock Baby." What talent! What drama! What excitement! What drinking! Que lastima!

Flobots' Rise and Abby's Participation

My daughter Abby helped out in the production of The Flobots' new video "Rise." They're not allowing embedding, but you can view it here. Flobots will be participating every day in marches and anti-war demos at the Democratic National Convention. They're great folks.

At Last - An Activist Band Gets Mainstream Credit

Let's hear it for Denver's Flobots, who are always willing to perform benefits, speak out for human rights, and cause trouble when necessary. Everyone was bitching about the hip-hop group signing to a major label, but when their new album Fight with Tools ended up in Best Buy's national circular for $7.99 specials this week, I figured it was a good way to spread a radical message.

The Denver Post thought so too, and put Flobots on the front page of the print edition May 20. We need more mass-audience tales of shit-disturbers. Here's the video for their new song "Handlebars."