Iconoclasts Love Good Monk Riots

Little commentary is necessary on this article, just another weekend of entertainment in Jerusalem. Any old iconocurmudgeonclast could tell them that the problems always begin with physical relics and graven images, and escalate from there. A piece of the true cross that can be fought over is not the true cross. The bones of a saint that can be captured in a jar is not a true saint. A God that elicits fist fights for physical-world advantages is not a true God.

Sunburned Hand of the Man and Gang Gang Dance in Denver

No, not together, nothing in Colorado could be that rational. Sunburned Hand of the Man was scheduled to make their first Colorado appearance at Hi-Dive Nov. 7, and I absolutely had to put highest priority on that. This is the first effort at touring since band member Adam Nodelman died. My only regret in capturing a few short clips (drum destruction above, along with this, this, this, this, and this) is that the lovely and talented Sarah O'Shea, playing electronics on an ironing board, is barely visible. Learned after I had gotten the ticket that Gang Gang Dance was making a return appearance at Larimer Lounge the same night. When the Sunburned show ended at 12:30, I raced over to Larimer and caught the last 30 minutes of Liz and the drum gods, including the clip of "House Jam" below.

What suddenly struck me last night is how much women have taken a crucial role in the experimental noise scene of late. A year ago, Craig M. got me the 4-CD Women Take Back the Noise collection, and since then I've watched women form their own collectives, like Leslie Keffer and Valerie Martino in Nashville, while women have taken lead roles in previously all-male avant-garde collectives: Bridget Hayden in Vibracathedral Orchestra and Telescopes, Inca Ore/Eva Saelens in Jackie-O Motherfucker, Michio in No-Neck Blues Band, and Sarah O'Shea in Sunburned. Personally, it seems that women are more innovative and precise in using noise than all those dorky men. I'm just glad the Tom Greenwoods and Dave Nusses of the world are willing to step into the background a bit, as women take back the noise.

A New Definition of "Police Riot"

Kudos to Colorado ACLU for uncovering the story behind a very strange event on Monday (Aug. 24) at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. Though Monday was not supposed to be a big day for protesters, it ended up being the day with the most arrests, when police suddenly and inexplicably attacked a sunset march going from the Civic Center toward downtown. More than 100 were arrested, and of the 60 who decided to challenge their arrests, none have been convicted, due to lack of evidence or uncertain police testimony.

Turns out the police staged their own riot, when Denver undercover cops masquerading as anarchists pretended to resist arrest so that they could safely be removed from the area before the police did a sweep. A Jefferson County deputy, not understanding what was going on, pepper-sprayed the undercover cops along with the commander who was pretending to arrest them. From there, events deteriorated to the level of farce.

This isn't that surprising. When tear gas was widely used at the February 2003 protests in Colorado Springs, amateur videographers took pictures of police on side streets surrounding Academy Blvd., donning full riot gear before any civil disobedience had been done. When you can't find enough protest to justify your actions, make your own.

The core move of any bureaucracy is to self-perpetuate. If the budget can't be justified by its activity, a bureaucracy almost never calls for cutting its own budget. Instead, activity is generated. Everyone was chiding the Denver cops for the overwhelming presence on downtown streets during DNC. So they had to manufacture events to rationalize their budget.

When paranoids see all life and struggle as a stage-managed drama directed by shadowy puppet-masters, they are wrong 80 percent of the time. But every now and then, the curtain lifts on a second layer of game-behind-the-game, where we see that the paranoids have a point. What appears to be a political struggle is a scripted bread and circuses show presented for our edification and enjoyment. As the rallying cry goes, "This is what democracy looks like!"

Elections 2008 and the Ezra Pound Problem

Can a fascist ever be a good poet? I'm not making the value judgment here of demanding an artist be politically correct. If Christopher Hitchens wanted to write a poem in praise of Dick Cheney, well, more power to him, provided he sobers up first. Rather, I'm asking if someone who espouses a doctrine that overtly destroys dialog, demands compliance, and punishes those who stray, can ever be considered a worthy artist. I answer this in the negative. Ezra Pound was a shitty poet because he was fascist. Similarly, hagiographers to Stalin or Mugabe can never be assessed as genuine artists because they are making the case for closed minds, not open ones.

Now I don't take this too far, particularly because many people believe that only a partially troubled life can yield good art. On the Ted Hughes/Sylvia Plath dispute, for example, I will acknowledge some sympathy for Hughes, since he made some attempt to provide Plath with a good atmosphere, and Plath's troubles were so deep-seated, Hughes ultimately was not responsible for her suicide. But I would say that a serial abuser of women, like a serial killer, cannot be considered a worthwhile artist because their personal foibles trump their personal visions.

In the aftermath of the election, I've seen some essays and blogs that mimic the kind of language one hears from extreme evangelicals or racists. These people are sure that a Democrat victory gives rise to insta-socialism (just add water), and that anyone who voted for Obama is a dupe for some undefined conspiracy. I don't drink Obama Kool-Aid. Like Hillary Clinton, Obama was a flawed, centrist candidate with Democratic Leadership Council support. But he has an honest intent, and it sure as hell is clear that he's no more socialist than George Bush, post-bank-nationalization.

One expects to see myth-based pseudo-thought from the religious right, because the devout value faith-based truth more than rational discussion - in fact, they shy away from the scientific method as the devil's own. One does not expect to see it from writers and artists. There are plenty of neocons who love to debate issues with liberals and radicals, and more power to them. But there are writers and artists who assume that Obama's election means the world has come to an end, and they are not willing to discuss these issues. Such people are hagiographers for faith-based truth, and have no right to be considered artists in a post-Enlightenment world. An artist does not function as a toady for closed faiths, closed minds, closed political systems, or closed cultures. This is why Ezra Pound sucked by nature.

OK, It's Over, and Congrats

I really never had a doubt that this would happen. Obama's acceptance and McCain's concession speeches were both classy. The only thing not classy is this die-hard core of neocons and oddballs with strange beliefs about Obama bringing about a "socialist USA" (hell, he's a centrist). Look, we had to put up with eight years of the biggest global terrorist imaginable in the Oval Office, so just shut the fuck up, OK?

TV on the Radio and Dirtbombs in Denver

TV on the Radio packed the Ogden Theater in Denver Nov. 2. The above clip is a song I didn't know - you can also find full (but darker) clips for "Dancing Choose," "Young Liars," and "Halfway Home."

I was also pretty impressed with Detroit band The Dirtbombs. Here are two full songs they played from their set, and here is a short clip indicating why it's so fun to play high-energy music with dual drum kits.

Who Needs the Peace Corps? (RIP Jimmy Carl Black)

That's sad, the first drummer for the Mothers of Invention, Cheyenne tribal member Jimmy Carl Black, died Nov. 1 of lung cancer at age 70, and the only news reports I've seen so far have been in European publications and web sites. This guy gave us everything from Lonesome Cowboy Bert to Geronimo Black. Given the huge accolades when Frank Zappa died, we should at least give it up a little for "the Indian of the group," Jimmy Carl Black. Every town must have a place where phony hippies meet, psychedelic dungeons popping up on every street....