Egad, it's been nearly a month since last post. The Maximalists show in Baltimore last week was a screaming success, and I should have some decent pix to post in a few days.
As for the above scene: Looking over the so-called Butler Garden park at Massachusetts Ave and 3rd Street NW, towards the so-called Nixon Memorial (ventilation shaft for the 395 underpass). Two tastes that taste great together. The traffic cone was a happy bonus.
Sometimes, I truly love working 2 blocks north of the Capitol grounds. You take a step outside for a lunchtime walk, and almost immediately hear the roaring static of protesters.
Usually the cause they're shouting about is reasonable, some policy gone horribly wrong, etc... This time, the cause du jour was a bit harder to figure out.
These strange characters were being sheep-dogged around by the Capitol Police while they sang like happy summer campers... They sang, in a charming-yet-grating lack of harmony, and to the tune of "Country Roads", something about how God is killing our troops because he didn't like Brokeback Mountain very much.
I've since discovered they're part of a Topeka-based organization whose evident aim is to spread hopelessness and despair, supported by carefully chosen bible passages. The point seems to be that God has lost patience with our misbehavior. It's too late. He will shake us off like dust mites from a filthy carpet.
Now don't get me wrong; I dig nihilism as much as the next guy... probably a bit more than the next guy. But this interpretation of Christianity seems devoid of even humorous irony (and I dig humorous irony as much as the next guy, etc...)
It's amusing to reflect how we chastise the Iraqi people for their inability to get their religious sects to agree on a new constitution, while back at home, we can't even agree on what a Christian is. The Bible has inspired everything from charity to genocide to "sale-a-thons" at your local Toyota dealership, so what IS this religion Americans seem so intense about? What is a Christian? One of these people?
Now, according to this tiny, bizarre protest, the Christian god is also a movie critic. When he/she/it gets a regular spot on the Post's OpEd page, THEN I might actually subscribe...
The victory of Evo Morales in Bolivia's recent election is fantastic news, and a great opportunity for the USA to learn something about Democracy, our alleged drug of choice.
Much of our media has been preoccupied with the "worrisome" (says Rumsfeld) developments in Latin America, what with Castro, Chavez, and now Morales...and thus, the arrogance of our nation is laid bare before the world yet again. Morales did not rise to power by staging a bloody revolution or by slaughtering innocents or by cheating the electoral system... his victory was the result of Classic Democracy, of the sort the USA has been preaching for ages.
So here we have a strong leader who's primary interest is making his nation stronger, and it appears to be making the Bully Nation nervous. Nationalizing Bolivia's gas reserves and liberating his nation's coca farmers from the deadly effects of Bush's insane "war on drugs" is exactly what Morales SHOULD be doing. It's no small detail that Morales is also the first indigenous person to lead a nation in the western hemisphere: a huge victory right there.
Reaction to all this from the States has been very telling indeed. For instance:
We have very rigid national borders: from the high walls and armed checkpoints abutting Mexico, to the truckloads of arrogant redneck vigilantes calling themselves "minutemen", patrolling day-labor sites. Our borders can be very tangible at times. But when it's convenient, our nation's borders can stretch to encompass everything we see, as evidenced by our habit of referring to central and south america as OUR BACK YARD.
What arrogance! A "back yard" is where you send your dog for a quick pee. Perhaps that's what we've done, considering our Secretary of Defense's recent comparison of Chavez and Morales to Hitler.
Go outside, Rumsfeld, and pee on Latin America. Good pup.
Perhaps the biggest lesson the USA should take from all this is one of perspective and humility. We did not invent "democracy" and we hold no control on it's execution throughout the world. Therefore, when a popular vote installs a cultural hero like Evo Morales, or thrusts a group like Hamas into a position of great responsibility, we have NO GROUNDS on which to claim "democracy" wasn't done right. We are certainly not the most persuasive teacher on the subject.
And with that said, I'll stash the soap-box and return to whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. More typical IntangibleArts musings next time.
Everything is bigger out west, even the used bookstores. In Tucson, we had a behemoth shop called Bookman's, which was the size of a large grocery store or a bowling alley. Sure, it was a decent spot to root through the old sci-fi pulps like a ferret in search of mice, but it wasn't intimate and cozy, like a good neighborhood bookstore should be. Size isn't everything.
It was a Friday afternoon in DC, and the brisk snap of late November air amplified the scent of burning wood in the fireplaces of Capitol Hill. I knew there was a bookstore I hadn't explored yet, somewhere near Eastern Market...
And there it was, a warm coccoon in the cold gray street. Deceptively small from the outside, but a mind-blowing array of books on the inside. No disrespect to Bookman's (for we will be returning to Tucson for a week at Christmas), but THIS musty claustrophobia is true comfort-food for the brain...and the perfect spot to kill a few hours while the cold sun retreats behind the Capitol dome in search of other prey...
...no relation to GENE Rayburn, unfortunately. Gene was the 2nd greatest host in the history of game shows (the first being Chuck Barriss, of course).
This curious stone creature would be one of several guardians of the Rayburn House Office Building, which flanks the south side of the US Capitol campus in Washington DC. Whenever I pass this building on my lunch walks, I'm haunted by MATCH GAME flashbacks: That gargoyle whispers after me...
(Dumb Dora is SO dumb...) i refuse, refuse, refuse to chant back "how dumb is she"...
(Old Man Periwinkle said mermrmrmrelemmrrrr...)
NO! NO! Back to HELL from whence you sprung, or TV LAND, or whatever. This is a Federal Government Building here, you must not profane it with your mockery of 1970s game shows. No self-respecting stone gargoyle would stoop to such goofery!
At this point, I usually sprint back to the office, weeping like a child, to the comforting arms of my co-workers, and to the loving hum of the coffee machine.
Not much to report: Just needed to break the cycle of live music photos taken in red-saturated, low-light rooms with no flash & long-exposure...
Today's Mental Health lunch walk took me by this ghastly thing (above): the National Association of Realtors headquarters building on New Jersey Avenue, in what might be considered West Capitol Hill. I'm sure it's considered some kind of "architectural triumph" but it's pathetically out of place in this neighborhood of red brick victorians and white marble federal buildings. Its contemporary contours appear offensively arrogant here, amongst the dignified and historical architecture.
When viewed from Massachussetts Ave to the north, it resembles a goofy hyper-modern atomic yacht, fleeing the Capitol dome and all its antique charm, in a vapor glaze of chrome, steel and glass...
It is the sacred cathedral of DC's gentrification wave. I want to hug it and I want to crucify it. Not necessarily in that order.
......at long last, Autumn is born.
The sweltering madness of summer over. The Sun King has died again, his body fading into the westward skies in a grave of ashes. Cool breezes remain, and we find comfort in the shadows. This is the greatest of seasons, still full of summer's muscle yet pregnant with the melancholy genius of winter.
Observing it all is the Green Man (above), stationed at the US Bontanic Garden on the Mall in Washington DC. He is most commonly associated with the Druid tradition, and personifies the intelligent, magical aspect of Nature.
The Green Man's presence at the heart of our Nation's Capital stresses an important point in our national heritage: This is not a Christian nation by default. Several of our beloved "founding fathers" either wrote, endorsed, or signed the Treaty of Tripoli, which stated (article 11) rather succinctly, "As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion..." What's the point, exactly?
Firstly, celebrate the coming of Autumn, for it is very groovy.
Secondly, beware this age of Arrogant Empire. The stink of danger is in the air, and it ain't the Druids, folks.
Alas the poor Devil Elf, cursed to walk the streets of DC endlessly under a shroud of polythene and duct tape. The suffering thing passed me here, on Independence Avenue, under the maternal shade of that Great White Bossom of Democracy, Thee Capitol, while mumbling vile obscenities in an Elfin tongue.
...or maybe the DC Department of Works just wrapped up a fire hydrant and left it for dead. Who knows why. Let the poor thing breathe.
In other news, I'm still waiting impatiently for the release of Tideland, which promises to be Terry Gilliam's latest surreal masterpiece. The Brothers Grimm is what I'd call "Gilliam Lite," or "entry-level Gilliam". We've seen what he's capable of (Brazil, Fear & Loathing, etc), and Grimm barely scratched the surface. A story like Mitch Cullin's "Tideland" is just BENT enough to deliver the strangeness we all crave.
There was also a solid rumor of Gilliam's involvement in a film version of Good Omens, the novel by Gaiman & Pratchett. That, too, would be worthy of a feverish & obsessive wait.
ALSO: For those who dig the new breed of psychedelic folk noise (as i am, thanks to Perky Pat and his Six Organs of Admittance CDs, damn you!), The Free Folk Phastasmagory II festival is coming to 611 Florida next week. No Six Organs this time, but Jack Rose, the fabulous Fursaxa, a fragment of Stone Breath, etc etc etc... it promises to be a fantastic day of improv freakout music and gentle space.
Anyway, if you go, watch for the psychedelic starchild, swaying on the floor like an autistic fruitcake and drooling on his (forgotten) camera...that would be me. Don't call the authorities, I'll be fine.
With luck, I'll have the presence of mind to take a few photos. Watch this space for updates...or links to the police report. Either way, entertainment is guaranteed.
Agents of Lyndon LaRouche often set up shop here, on First ave NE, near G Street. They never seem happy. Of course, when you're out to disclose the Administration's links to Satanism, "happiness" seems quaint and expendable. This is serious work. Worthy of a serious megaphone. (Alt. action view here).
Meanwhile (inset), after a month-plus of hiding, Hot Dog Lady has set up shop again, in the same spot as before. Now, all seems right with the world, despite the epic battle against Satan being waged just one block away. Beware the brimstone, Hot Dog Lady!
or, "Death takes a Labor Day"
Various skulls & crossbones stamped on the G Street side of the Bureau of Labor Statistics building... It's also across the street from the former site of Hot Dog Lady. We haven't seen Hot Dog Lady (HDL) in a few weeks. HDL was a daily fixture on 1st & G, but since recent terrorist scares, we assume she was "encouraged" to relocate (the side entrance to Union Station is nearby). Perhaps she posed a security threat via Hot Dog Vapors, or maybe the lure of chips & soda was too much for the Capitol Cops to bear...they aren't very fit people, you know...
Hot Dog Lady... all is forgiven... The red skulls have frightened off the police (for now), please come back...
Typical lunchbreak view from roof-deck of my office. Looking south, eleven floors above North Capitol Street. A mighty fine pub (Dubliner) lives on the ground floor of the brick building to the right. (all magazine publishing gigs lead to fresh pints of Guinness...it's a fact of life...a law of nature...don't fight it).
