She Mob opens for The Rabbles and poet Julien Poirier at Oakland's Octopus Literary Salon on Saturday, October 20th. Show starts at 7 p.m. -- a very humane time for a live-music/poetry show. Rock out, poets!
Filtered through the brain cells of Lisa McElroy
Showing posts with label the music is the message. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the music is the message. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 16, 2018
She Mob Plays Live at The Octopus Literary Salon
She Mob opens for The Rabbles and poet Julien Poirier at Oakland's Octopus Literary Salon on Saturday, October 20th. Show starts at 7 p.m. -- a very humane time for a live-music/poetry show. Rock out, poets!
Saturday, May 12, 2018
She Mob LIVE at Up the Creek Records
She Mob is playing a dinner show, 6 - 7:30 PM! There will be no dinner, but plenty of records and art and tchockes for sale at Up the Creek in Walnut Creek (California).
Note: there's an actual Walnut Creek in Walnut Creek, so quit making fun of its bucolic-suburb fake-sounding name! It's a former orcharding enclave with a hundred-year-old downtown that used to be a railway stop during the ranching era of Northern California land-use and settlement! That railway is now the Ironhorse Trail—a fine bike and walking trail, so be proud, Walnut Creek. Bicyclists know the score.
Up the Creek Records is in a split-level strip mall—the best kind of strip mall. 1840 Tice Valley Boulevard in BADASS Walnut Creek, California. 6 - 7:30 PM. It's a fun little shop and there's lots of live music there weekly, so check the calendar for future events.
Update: Our friend Debi took these shots of our show—thank you Debi! Great fun was had. We'll play again. Hopefully before we turn 60.
Monday, April 30, 2018
Best of 2017 - a super-late list, part 1
"Best of" lists are unnecessary but they lend themselves to the Internet so well—platform of scroll-worthy material. Keeping track of creative output within a span of 365 days is an arbitrary measure of quality control but because my brain tends to work in intuitive—not analytical for the most part—ways and I can't remember dates or time-frames well at all, I tried keeping a year-long list starting last January, just to see what would happen. Any time something lodged in my consciousness for more than three weeks, I figured it was a keeper, so here's a little list of some favorite things of 2017. I'll be brief so your scrolling finger doesn't get a callous. May you face 2018 with open minds, hearts and good memories to come.
Books! I love books and I'm usually reading three three to five of them at once, trading them off throughout the day and night. I always seem to have 20 books checked out from the library at all times and when I enter a decent bookstore (which are disappearing from our cities in a terrible online-based epidemic), I usually buy a few books which end up stacked up around the house because all the shelves are full at this point. I'm a book pig, no doubt about it. Here are some I liked this year:
The Sun & the Moon & the Rolling Stones by Rich Cohen
Some notes I took upon reading Vanity Fair/Rolling Stone journalist Cohen's travels with the Stones: Personal, historical, great sentences and editing—an almost-haiku of rock journalism. Includes a lot of (sad) perspective from Marianne Faithfull and the dark and fascinating influence of Anita Pallenberg on the band. Jagger comes off as a narcissist business man, Richards a genius musician and selfish addict. Watts a sweet steady presence who fell apart in middle age, in reverse order to 99% of rock stars. A lot of credit is given to Gram Parsons for his country-rock influence.
History covered: importance and influence of American blues to post-WWII England youth. The blues, its beginnings and its influential recordings are given a lot of weight in this book. The British invasion and hippie mysticism and drug experimentation of the 60s is extensively covered, as is Altamont, of course—its ugliness and impact on celebrity/fan paranoia and separateness that heralded the 70s. The whole Altamont experience reads like a horror story, starting with Mick and Keith wandering through campfire gatherings the night before the concert, as the desolate pass fills to beyond capacity, and ends with their treacherous escape in an overloaded helicopter as the free concert erupts into murder and mayhem.
You also get the stories behind how the Stones' classic albums were recorded, and that's a book in itself. The aftermath, which asks why they still tour, reveals the surprising knowledge that Keith Richards lives in Ridgefield, Connecticut. Great book.
Never a Dull Moment: 1971 The Year that Rock Exploded by David Hepworth
In 1971 I was seven years old—the magic age. The age of reason. But I never considered how many seminal albums were released within that year because, c'mon, I was seven. I did like radio though and my friends and I were grooving to the music big time, listening to KFRC in Concord, California and to our older siblings' and cousins' record collections because they had disposable incomes and we had no choice.
With the breakup of the Beatles in '70, Hepworth dubs '71 the beginning of the rock era. Each chapter of this enjoyable, informative read outlines not only the albums that began the mega-rock industry industrial complex, but how society influenced the artists, how the record industry grew into a mammoth incubator of talent and wealth, and how each album influenced society and the music industry.
Surprisingly Carole King's Tapestry kicks things off into high gear, launching quietly and setting off a popular maelstrom of singer-songwriter folk-rock that today we still equate with sincerity and artistic expression on a grand scale. Hepworth covers the Carpenters, Led Zeppelin, the Stones, Marvin Gaye and Sly and the Family Stone with equal depth and fervor and Bowie coming to America, of course. It's a thrill ride of musical exploration until we hit the pay-dirt wall with The Eagles, a more calculated attempt to mine the infinite riches that would eventually morph into the bloated rock industry that begat the punk rebellion that begat...digital piracy and tumbleweeds blowing down the corridors where once record moguls shared their coke stashes.
What Are You Looking At? by Will Gompertz
This was published in 2013, but it was featured on an end-aisle at Powell's in the art section and I snagged it on a whim. It's a fast and fascinating history of contemporary art, which my knowledge of was spotty at best. If you studied art history in college and never got past the Renaissance era, this is going to fill in so many blanks for you and you'll enjoy it too. Gompertz answers all your contemporary-art questions and concerns, especially: why is this art? And: but my five-year-old could do this! You will finish this book a much more learned creature than when you started and when you visit modern-art museums, you will have all the background you need to appreciate what's been placed in front of you. The timeline of modern art and its iconoclasts are exhilarating and worthy fields of study for any creative person or appreciator.
TV! It lives in our houses. It's in our subconscious. TV is still a powerful entity and don't you forget it.
The Detectorists - No, it didn't start in 2017. 2017 is OVER. But this was the year I finally saw this two- (now three, but not available in the U.S. yet) season British gem. Mackenzie Crook's quietly deadpan take on metal detectorists who hunt the old farmsteads of England looking for historical, possibly pre-Roman finds. They don't just want treasure. They want transcendence. Also starring the great Toby Smith—this show is gentle in the best sense of the world, with shots of nature interspersed with the nuttiest group of small-town obsessives and their prized equipment. This show is soul food and often very funny but also extremely human. Crook is a treasure.
To be continued...
Books! I love books and I'm usually reading three three to five of them at once, trading them off throughout the day and night. I always seem to have 20 books checked out from the library at all times and when I enter a decent bookstore (which are disappearing from our cities in a terrible online-based epidemic), I usually buy a few books which end up stacked up around the house because all the shelves are full at this point. I'm a book pig, no doubt about it. Here are some I liked this year:
The Sun & the Moon & the Rolling Stones by Rich Cohen
Some notes I took upon reading Vanity Fair/Rolling Stone journalist Cohen's travels with the Stones: Personal, historical, great sentences and editing—an almost-haiku of rock journalism. Includes a lot of (sad) perspective from Marianne Faithfull and the dark and fascinating influence of Anita Pallenberg on the band. Jagger comes off as a narcissist business man, Richards a genius musician and selfish addict. Watts a sweet steady presence who fell apart in middle age, in reverse order to 99% of rock stars. A lot of credit is given to Gram Parsons for his country-rock influence.
History covered: importance and influence of American blues to post-WWII England youth. The blues, its beginnings and its influential recordings are given a lot of weight in this book. The British invasion and hippie mysticism and drug experimentation of the 60s is extensively covered, as is Altamont, of course—its ugliness and impact on celebrity/fan paranoia and separateness that heralded the 70s. The whole Altamont experience reads like a horror story, starting with Mick and Keith wandering through campfire gatherings the night before the concert, as the desolate pass fills to beyond capacity, and ends with their treacherous escape in an overloaded helicopter as the free concert erupts into murder and mayhem.
You also get the stories behind how the Stones' classic albums were recorded, and that's a book in itself. The aftermath, which asks why they still tour, reveals the surprising knowledge that Keith Richards lives in Ridgefield, Connecticut. Great book.
Never a Dull Moment: 1971 The Year that Rock Exploded by David Hepworth
In 1971 I was seven years old—the magic age. The age of reason. But I never considered how many seminal albums were released within that year because, c'mon, I was seven. I did like radio though and my friends and I were grooving to the music big time, listening to KFRC in Concord, California and to our older siblings' and cousins' record collections because they had disposable incomes and we had no choice.
With the breakup of the Beatles in '70, Hepworth dubs '71 the beginning of the rock era. Each chapter of this enjoyable, informative read outlines not only the albums that began the mega-rock industry industrial complex, but how society influenced the artists, how the record industry grew into a mammoth incubator of talent and wealth, and how each album influenced society and the music industry.
Surprisingly Carole King's Tapestry kicks things off into high gear, launching quietly and setting off a popular maelstrom of singer-songwriter folk-rock that today we still equate with sincerity and artistic expression on a grand scale. Hepworth covers the Carpenters, Led Zeppelin, the Stones, Marvin Gaye and Sly and the Family Stone with equal depth and fervor and Bowie coming to America, of course. It's a thrill ride of musical exploration until we hit the pay-dirt wall with The Eagles, a more calculated attempt to mine the infinite riches that would eventually morph into the bloated rock industry that begat the punk rebellion that begat...digital piracy and tumbleweeds blowing down the corridors where once record moguls shared their coke stashes.
What Are You Looking At? by Will Gompertz
This was published in 2013, but it was featured on an end-aisle at Powell's in the art section and I snagged it on a whim. It's a fast and fascinating history of contemporary art, which my knowledge of was spotty at best. If you studied art history in college and never got past the Renaissance era, this is going to fill in so many blanks for you and you'll enjoy it too. Gompertz answers all your contemporary-art questions and concerns, especially: why is this art? And: but my five-year-old could do this! You will finish this book a much more learned creature than when you started and when you visit modern-art museums, you will have all the background you need to appreciate what's been placed in front of you. The timeline of modern art and its iconoclasts are exhilarating and worthy fields of study for any creative person or appreciator.
TV! It lives in our houses. It's in our subconscious. TV is still a powerful entity and don't you forget it.
The Detectorists - No, it didn't start in 2017. 2017 is OVER. But this was the year I finally saw this two- (now three, but not available in the U.S. yet) season British gem. Mackenzie Crook's quietly deadpan take on metal detectorists who hunt the old farmsteads of England looking for historical, possibly pre-Roman finds. They don't just want treasure. They want transcendence. Also starring the great Toby Smith—this show is gentle in the best sense of the world, with shots of nature interspersed with the nuttiest group of small-town obsessives and their prized equipment. This show is soul food and often very funny but also extremely human. Crook is a treasure.
To be continued...
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Women's March 2018 Oakland - we came, we marched, we had clever signs
It was a good Women's March, the massive sequel to last year's worldwide record-breaking demonstration. I hope we can do it again, but in celebration of a better government going forward. Here's to hope. Some photos and video and many good vibes to follow. Thank you, peaceful protesters. Now call and write your Members of Congress and tell them to impeach and/or 25th Amendment the obstruction-of-justice-in-chief and here's to the FBI's quest to oust the criminally corrupt from our Federal government.
Occupella sings "Bella Ciao" - an Italian anti-fascist protest song from the 1940s.
Here they come! Thousands marched through downtown Oakland on January 20th, 2018. The #Resistance is marching right into the halls of Congress - be sure to register to vote and vote for and support all the incredible candidates now running for office in the U.S.
 |
| The combined creative energy of this group could light up the Eastern Seaboard |
Occupella sings "Bella Ciao" - an Italian anti-fascist protest song from the 1940s.
Here they come! Thousands marched through downtown Oakland on January 20th, 2018. The #Resistance is marching right into the halls of Congress - be sure to register to vote and vote for and support all the incredible candidates now running for office in the U.S.
Sunday, December 03, 2017
Songs About Treating Women Right
Everyone coming forward with your testimonies of sexual abuse and harassment, I honor your courage and thank you for helping all of us to make a better world for women (and men) going forward. Speaking out is so hard, but as painful as it is, it seems to be having more of an affect than at any other time in our history.
This is a story that happened when I was 16 years old in 1980. I was bussing tables at a somewhat fancy little French restaurant in Clayton, California, where the prices were high, the food sub-par, and the owners not top-quality people. It was only one in what would become a series of shitty jobs of my youth, but at the time I didn't realize that. It was my third job though, and they were all turning out to be awful experiences due to unscrupulous, sexist, cruel and unlawful creep bosses.
My co-worker, another teenage girl from my class, who I'll call Joanne, came running out of the kitchen one night, and into a dark hallway that led to the dining area, chased by the scuzzy old chef who all gave us the creeps and looked like a decrepit wax image of Keith Moon from the demon universe. He was, as usual, very drunk, and proceeded to chase her down to do something horrid to her. He cornered her and kissed her, trapping her with his hands, which Jesus, the horror, especially because he was oily and three times our age. She screamed and slapped at him and managed to escape his clutches, marching through the dining room to the bar, where our boss was pretending to be a jolly proprietor alongside his brittle wife.
There at the bar, shaking and white-faced, Joanne told our boss what had just happened, ignoring the stares of the diners around us. Our boss listened, expressionless, while she squared herself and shakily described her assault, finding her strength by declaring, "And THAT ISN'T RIGHT!" I was standing there, probably holding a plate with escargot shells rolling around, my mouth hanging open. Joanne's bravery in the face of grotesquely inappropriate behavior really froze my feet to the floor. I had already learned, at age 16, that there was little to no recourse for such things. I had internalized and surmised that we were supposed to take it for the rest of our lives if we wanted to have a job.
Rudy told Joanne he'd take care of it. Hah, I thought, I bet. Keep in mind my boss had once told me that "sure, Hitler did some bad things, but he did invent a car that most people could afford." And he had been sued by a former busser (always teenage girls at that restaurant—they never hired boys) for back wages after our boss and his coworker friends had kept all the tips for themselves. He had already reneged on this lawsuit, within a year of losing the case, by keeping all of our tips now that the original busser had moved on to greener employment pastures. So I wasn't expecting much other than the chef would get a scolding, Joanne would probably quit, and we'd all continue to be terrorized by the lech in the kitchen.
But I was wrong. our boss returned from the kitchen, assuring Joanne that he had fired the chef. Right then. He was gone. Wow, I thought--that was decisive. He also apologized to Joanne. He did the right thing, out of sudden moral imperative, or fear of another lawsuit. We went back to work, and didn't get any tips still, but at least the chef was never to return. It was a powerful moment for me, knowing even a crumb-bum like our boss could step up and do the right thing by firing the miscreant immediately.
But mostly I was impressed by Joanne for not hesitating one instant to report the abuse. She went from being attacked to reporting it all in one swift motion, channeling her anger and indignation for the greater good. What a brave girl. I salute you, Joanne (not her real name), and wish you the best, as I wish the best to all people who come forward for yourselves and for the rights of all of us. Hail.
Let us pay tribute with song.
Lesley Gore - "You Don't Own Me" (1963) The classic "Back off, Jack, I'm my own person and don't you forget it" sentiment from waaaay back in 1963, predating the second-wave feminist movement by nearly a decade. Nice work, Lesley Gore.
Jeannie C. Riley - "Harper Valley PTA" (1968) Jeannie C. Riley is not putting up with hypocritical small-town values judging her. It doesn't matter what she wears or who she dates. You can hear it in her voice.
Aretha Franklin - "Do Right Women, Do Right Man" (1967) There should be a statue if Aretha Franklin in the Public Mall in Washington D.C. and as comedian/social-activist Greg Proops has rightfully proposed, our National Anthem should be a different Aretha Franklin song every day. I concur.
Pat Benatar - "Treat Me Right" (1980) Pat Benatar! She burst on the scene, her husband and collaborator Neil Giraldo playing gnarly guitar leads behind her onstage, showcasing the crazy-wide vocal range coming from her petite but mighty presence. She's always had one of those voices that cuts through a lot of bullshit in the music biz—no breathy little-girl vocals for Pat Benatar. Her new song "Shine," inspired by the Women's March 2016, is priced at 69 cents to highlight the wage gap for women. Proceeds benefit a nonprofit that supports women going into public service and government. Give it up for Pat Benatar, people.
Donna Summer - "She Works Hard for the Money" (1983) Donna Summer was a huge star on the dance floor during her long run throughout the 70s and early 80s, but she never got the critical acclaim she deserved. I remember one reviewer stating her voice didn't "have much of a range." I'm still livid. Her phrasing was Sinatra-like in its understated manner. When you heard a Donna Summer song on the radio, your brain immediately perked up and you knew it was her. She was distinct, soulful and commanding. Someone kindly uploaded her Grammy performance of "She Works Hard For The Money" with the dance line of working women. I admit that I may have slightly teared up a wee bit the first time I saw this video on MTV. I mean, its theme was rare. It still is. Thank you, Donna Summer.
Queen Latifah - "U.N.I.T.Y." (1993) Who is the most charismatic personality of the 90s? Queen Latifah, that's who, and she lives up to her name, looking regal whether hanging from a crane, leading the neighborhood down the street, riding a motorcycle in leather, or demanding respect from men in no uncertain terms. I love her.
Janelle Monáe - "Q.U.E.E.N." feat. Erykah Badu (2013) Janelle Monáe wants to be her freaky funky self in sci-fi history-referencing black & white menswear, without being judged, thank you very much.
If you need help, the National Domestic Hotline is a resource. You can also report abuse to your doctor and get a referral for services.
This is a story that happened when I was 16 years old in 1980. I was bussing tables at a somewhat fancy little French restaurant in Clayton, California, where the prices were high, the food sub-par, and the owners not top-quality people. It was only one in what would become a series of shitty jobs of my youth, but at the time I didn't realize that. It was my third job though, and they were all turning out to be awful experiences due to unscrupulous, sexist, cruel and unlawful creep bosses.
My co-worker, another teenage girl from my class, who I'll call Joanne, came running out of the kitchen one night, and into a dark hallway that led to the dining area, chased by the scuzzy old chef who all gave us the creeps and looked like a decrepit wax image of Keith Moon from the demon universe. He was, as usual, very drunk, and proceeded to chase her down to do something horrid to her. He cornered her and kissed her, trapping her with his hands, which Jesus, the horror, especially because he was oily and three times our age. She screamed and slapped at him and managed to escape his clutches, marching through the dining room to the bar, where our boss was pretending to be a jolly proprietor alongside his brittle wife.
There at the bar, shaking and white-faced, Joanne told our boss what had just happened, ignoring the stares of the diners around us. Our boss listened, expressionless, while she squared herself and shakily described her assault, finding her strength by declaring, "And THAT ISN'T RIGHT!" I was standing there, probably holding a plate with escargot shells rolling around, my mouth hanging open. Joanne's bravery in the face of grotesquely inappropriate behavior really froze my feet to the floor. I had already learned, at age 16, that there was little to no recourse for such things. I had internalized and surmised that we were supposed to take it for the rest of our lives if we wanted to have a job.
Rudy told Joanne he'd take care of it. Hah, I thought, I bet. Keep in mind my boss had once told me that "sure, Hitler did some bad things, but he did invent a car that most people could afford." And he had been sued by a former busser (always teenage girls at that restaurant—they never hired boys) for back wages after our boss and his coworker friends had kept all the tips for themselves. He had already reneged on this lawsuit, within a year of losing the case, by keeping all of our tips now that the original busser had moved on to greener employment pastures. So I wasn't expecting much other than the chef would get a scolding, Joanne would probably quit, and we'd all continue to be terrorized by the lech in the kitchen.
But I was wrong. our boss returned from the kitchen, assuring Joanne that he had fired the chef. Right then. He was gone. Wow, I thought--that was decisive. He also apologized to Joanne. He did the right thing, out of sudden moral imperative, or fear of another lawsuit. We went back to work, and didn't get any tips still, but at least the chef was never to return. It was a powerful moment for me, knowing even a crumb-bum like our boss could step up and do the right thing by firing the miscreant immediately.
But mostly I was impressed by Joanne for not hesitating one instant to report the abuse. She went from being attacked to reporting it all in one swift motion, channeling her anger and indignation for the greater good. What a brave girl. I salute you, Joanne (not her real name), and wish you the best, as I wish the best to all people who come forward for yourselves and for the rights of all of us. Hail.
Let us pay tribute with song.
Lesley Gore - "You Don't Own Me" (1963) The classic "Back off, Jack, I'm my own person and don't you forget it" sentiment from waaaay back in 1963, predating the second-wave feminist movement by nearly a decade. Nice work, Lesley Gore.
Jeannie C. Riley - "Harper Valley PTA" (1968) Jeannie C. Riley is not putting up with hypocritical small-town values judging her. It doesn't matter what she wears or who she dates. You can hear it in her voice.
Aretha Franklin - "Do Right Women, Do Right Man" (1967) There should be a statue if Aretha Franklin in the Public Mall in Washington D.C. and as comedian/social-activist Greg Proops has rightfully proposed, our National Anthem should be a different Aretha Franklin song every day. I concur.
Pat Benatar - "Treat Me Right" (1980) Pat Benatar! She burst on the scene, her husband and collaborator Neil Giraldo playing gnarly guitar leads behind her onstage, showcasing the crazy-wide vocal range coming from her petite but mighty presence. She's always had one of those voices that cuts through a lot of bullshit in the music biz—no breathy little-girl vocals for Pat Benatar. Her new song "Shine," inspired by the Women's March 2016, is priced at 69 cents to highlight the wage gap for women. Proceeds benefit a nonprofit that supports women going into public service and government. Give it up for Pat Benatar, people.
Donna Summer - "She Works Hard for the Money" (1983) Donna Summer was a huge star on the dance floor during her long run throughout the 70s and early 80s, but she never got the critical acclaim she deserved. I remember one reviewer stating her voice didn't "have much of a range." I'm still livid. Her phrasing was Sinatra-like in its understated manner. When you heard a Donna Summer song on the radio, your brain immediately perked up and you knew it was her. She was distinct, soulful and commanding. Someone kindly uploaded her Grammy performance of "She Works Hard For The Money" with the dance line of working women. I admit that I may have slightly teared up a wee bit the first time I saw this video on MTV. I mean, its theme was rare. It still is. Thank you, Donna Summer.
Queen Latifah - "U.N.I.T.Y." (1993) Who is the most charismatic personality of the 90s? Queen Latifah, that's who, and she lives up to her name, looking regal whether hanging from a crane, leading the neighborhood down the street, riding a motorcycle in leather, or demanding respect from men in no uncertain terms. I love her.
Janelle Monáe - "Q.U.E.E.N." feat. Erykah Badu (2013) Janelle Monáe wants to be her freaky funky self in sci-fi history-referencing black & white menswear, without being judged, thank you very much.
If you need help, the National Domestic Hotline is a resource. You can also report abuse to your doctor and get a referral for services.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
From Hell It Came - Hieronymus Bosch Butt Music
In 2014, a major milestone in music and art history was reached when a music student named Amelia Hamrick attending Oklahoma Christian University took precious time out of her study schedule to transcribe the musical notation written across the butt of one of Hieronymus Bosch's hell-dwellers in his Medieval triptych and master work, "The Garden of Earthly Delights." Hamrick plinked out the tune on piano—written in a book in the painting and finishing across the posterior of the sinner in question in a section of the painting that historians call "The Musicians' Hell"—and posted to her Tumblr, for all the world to celebrate.
Here's a section of the painting known as Musicians' Hell that Bosch enjoyed putting together (do you see the bunny?)
But not so much this guy, his butt exposed, a demon writing notation with its weirdly dotted tongue across this sufferer's cheeks.
Now we can all listen to this 500-year-old butt song from hell, as featured on Anderson Cooper 360. Enjoy!
Hamrick's review is that it's a "really bad" Gregorian chant. But that didn't dissuade Will Ascenzo from posting his chant version on his Tumblr.
Ascenzo's inspiring lyrics:
Butt song from hell
This is the butt song from hell
We sing from our asses while burning in purgatory
The butt song from hell
The butt song from hell
Butts
But hold the phone! We're not done yet because Jim Spalink has posted his version of "Hieronymus Bosch Butt Music" on lute, harp, and hurdy-gurdy. Let's listen:
These butt-music composers are legion, but not to be outdone, guitarist Buckethead has recorded and animated his take on Bosch, "Spokes for the Wheel of Torment." If ever there was a band in hell, this is it.
When your muse is 500 years old, that's old-school.
Here's a section of the painting known as Musicians' Hell that Bosch enjoyed putting together (do you see the bunny?)
This guy's having an okay time in Club Hell with his jazz hands.
But not so much this guy, his butt exposed, a demon writing notation with its weirdly dotted tongue across this sufferer's cheeks.
Now we can all listen to this 500-year-old butt song from hell, as featured on Anderson Cooper 360. Enjoy!
Hamrick's review is that it's a "really bad" Gregorian chant. But that didn't dissuade Will Ascenzo from posting his chant version on his Tumblr.
Ascenzo's inspiring lyrics:
Butt song from hell
This is the butt song from hell
We sing from our asses while burning in purgatory
The butt song from hell
The butt song from hell
Butts
But hold the phone! We're not done yet because Jim Spalink has posted his version of "Hieronymus Bosch Butt Music" on lute, harp, and hurdy-gurdy. Let's listen:
These butt-music composers are legion, but not to be outdone, guitarist Buckethead has recorded and animated his take on Bosch, "Spokes for the Wheel of Torment." If ever there was a band in hell, this is it.
When your muse is 500 years old, that's old-school.
Thursday, November 09, 2017
Heavy Metal Moments - Congratulations to Danica Roem on Your Win
Congratulations to Danica Roem, journalist and first openly transgender candidate to be elected as a state official in Virginia, U.S. of A. She beat Robert Marshall, a 26-year incumbent who once referred to himself as the "Homophobe in Chief" and who introduced a bathroom bill that would have forced people to use the bathroom based on the gender listed on their birth certificate. What poetic justice! And she sings in the heavy metal band Cab Ride Home. An epic win.
Take it away, Danica (grand entrance at 0:42)...
Danica's acceptance speech, November 7, 2017: "I believe in building up our infrastructure instead of tearing down each other ... discrimination is a disqualifier ... No matter what you look like, where you come from, how you worship, who you love, how you identify, and yeah, how you rock, that if you have good public policy ideas, if you're well-qualified for office, bring those ideas to the table because this is your America too ... We are stronger together."
You rock, Danica.
Take it away, Danica (grand entrance at 0:42)...
Danica's acceptance speech, November 7, 2017: "I believe in building up our infrastructure instead of tearing down each other ... discrimination is a disqualifier ... No matter what you look like, where you come from, how you worship, who you love, how you identify, and yeah, how you rock, that if you have good public policy ideas, if you're well-qualified for office, bring those ideas to the table because this is your America too ... We are stronger together."
You rock, Danica.
Wednesday, October 04, 2017
She Mob LIVES
She Mob is the house band for the art opening of Bride of Monster at Creativity Explored Gallery tomorrow night, October 5th. It's not a typical She Mob eardrum blowout, but a more ambient weird-ass affair. Come see some magnificent monster-inspired artworks while we sit on the floor nearby, making bizarre noises. It's a happening.
Monday, August 28, 2017
San Francisco Rise and Resist! Counter-Rally and LovedUp Mobile Dance Party - August 26, 2017
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| Rise and Resist! with MC Cleve Jones on bullhorn, ready to rally |
We danced and chanted and sang, thousands strong.
Here we go! Tunes provided by the LovedUp Mobile Dance Party bicycle-toting sound system,.
Plenty of signage, good vibes and big hearts.
I haven't seen an official count in the media since Saturday, but it was thousands. My guess would be at least twenty thousand, if not more. I parked myself on the side of the street a few times and people just kept coming, and coming, and coming.
This sign won cinematic signage reference of the day. This sign has been approved by The Craft fan-favorite Fairuza Balk. An excellent job in cult-film signage.
This is my kind of super-hero.
To the two ladies riding unicorns down the street while playing satirical ditties on ukuleles: I love you.
DANCE DANCE FACISTS (sic) FUCK OFF - sign o' the times
Activist Honey Mahogany commands attention with her regal radiance. I see she's co-starred in Peaches Christ's production of The Craft. This moment in photographs, brought to you by The Craft.
The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have been stepping up for human rights and helping me cope with my Catholic upbringing in a healthy manner since 1979. Hail to you, Sisters!
As the Sisters posed for this photo, I heard one of them say to the little girl, "I love your wig!"
Heather Heyer remembrance shirt. Heather's mom Susan Bro announced the formation of the Heather Heyer Scholarship Foundation this week. Rest in power, Heather. We will remember you.
Dancers from a Dance Planet - who are these wondrous dance pixies? If anyone knows, tell me because they deserve all the accolades.
Sending love around the world.
Monday, August 14, 2017
Anti-Nazi Protesters: Say it with Sousaphones
Are you pro-humanity and for civil rights? Tired of KKK/Nazi sympathizers marching down the streets of the United States, home of the free? Get your message across the humorous, nonviolent musical way — with a sousaphone. If you don't have a sousaphone on hand, a tuba will do. Remember, practice makes perfect, so be sure not to practice too much for that raw, galumphing, nonsensical sound. The perfect soundtrack for any Nazi-rally occasion.
Need inspiration? The Internet has you covered.
This rendition by Sousaphonist Matt Buck appears to be a mix of Laurel and Hardy's "The Dance of the Cuckoos" theme with Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries," accompanying a KKK march in Columbia, South Carolina. Buck started the trend that's sweeping the nation and the world. Kudos.
This Sousaphone player took his musical message to the 2016 Republican National Convention to satirically accompany the rants of far-right homophobic religious zealots.
British talk show The Last Leg sent their in-house tuba player (or perhaps he's a contract worker—the way of most employment in the modern age) to follow then-presidential candidate and white-supremacist Donald Trump around Scotland in his ubiquitous golf cart. Bravo.
The Sousaphones Against Hate regale 45's dark tower on inauguration day.
Tuba in the shop? No worries, gather your best clown friends and head on down to the nearest white supremacist hate-speech rally and clown the hell out of it. This brings up the question of who appears the most ridiculous—the cheerful red-nosed jokesters, or the bitter guys in pointy hats espousing racial superiority.
Sadly it's beyond simple satire now that 31-year-old Heather Heyer was murdered while standing up to neo-Nazis in Charlottesville, Virginia. My deepest condolences to her family and friends. She was brave and she deserved better, as did the injured and recovering counter-protesters who fought hate in Charlottesville. Nazis and fascists: you are not wanted here. If you show up spewing vitriol based on skin color, cultural affiliation, gender, or sexual orientation, you deserve to be mocked until you turn tail and slink away. Equality and justice for all.
Need inspiration? The Internet has you covered.
This rendition by Sousaphonist Matt Buck appears to be a mix of Laurel and Hardy's "The Dance of the Cuckoos" theme with Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries," accompanying a KKK march in Columbia, South Carolina. Buck started the trend that's sweeping the nation and the world. Kudos.
This Sousaphone player took his musical message to the 2016 Republican National Convention to satirically accompany the rants of far-right homophobic religious zealots.
British talk show The Last Leg sent their in-house tuba player (or perhaps he's a contract worker—the way of most employment in the modern age) to follow then-presidential candidate and white-supremacist Donald Trump around Scotland in his ubiquitous golf cart. Bravo.
The Sousaphones Against Hate regale 45's dark tower on inauguration day.
Tuba in the shop? No worries, gather your best clown friends and head on down to the nearest white supremacist hate-speech rally and clown the hell out of it. This brings up the question of who appears the most ridiculous—the cheerful red-nosed jokesters, or the bitter guys in pointy hats espousing racial superiority.
Sadly it's beyond simple satire now that 31-year-old Heather Heyer was murdered while standing up to neo-Nazis in Charlottesville, Virginia. My deepest condolences to her family and friends. She was brave and she deserved better, as did the injured and recovering counter-protesters who fought hate in Charlottesville. Nazis and fascists: you are not wanted here. If you show up spewing vitriol based on skin color, cultural affiliation, gender, or sexual orientation, you deserve to be mocked until you turn tail and slink away. Equality and justice for all.
Thursday, June 08, 2017
March for Truth San Francisco featuring Trump Russian Nesting Dolls and Jazz
Yes, it's true the March for Truth set for San Francisco on June 3, 2017 was cancelled to the chagrin of marchers throughout the Bay Area. But the problem of getting a permit together in time for the event, did not curtail the march in full because luckily the hard-working and cheeky folks at Indivisible SF planned a Flash Mob for Truth, and you don't need a permit to host a flash mob.
Still, calling it a Flash Mob for Truth, sounds a little goofy and surreal. Although, the event itself was both those things in the best possible way. Thank you, Indivisible SF for your massive effort to put together a delightful day of music, sing-alongs and political theater PLUS bigger-than-life Trump Russian nesting dolls.
We started off at the Powell cable-car turnaround at Market. Saint Gabriel's Celestial Brass Band appeared, on time, tuning up, and ready to play. I was so excited to see a New Orleans style marching band, I cannot emphasize this enough. I've participated in many political marches since the 1980s but lately there's been a plethora of incredibly talented dedicated musicians joining in. I didn't set out to film all of them, but I just keep noting how special it is that this is happening at all, and the fact that it's being set to traditional American music, makes it even more soulful.
Let's march! For Truth! For Justice! For the end of this corrupt administration! New Orleans Jazz forever!
Let's Rally!
Indivisible SF MC Steve Rapport gave an extraordinary account of the Trump administration's shortcomings, read as a prose piece of insane, horrifying and all-true descriptors. One of the best uses of adjectives to damn corrupted power players who have no business being in power. The unveiling of the nesting dolls was well served by Rapport's summation.
More jazz, with marching, if that's what moves you.
Still, calling it a Flash Mob for Truth, sounds a little goofy and surreal. Although, the event itself was both those things in the best possible way. Thank you, Indivisible SF for your massive effort to put together a delightful day of music, sing-alongs and political theater PLUS bigger-than-life Trump Russian nesting dolls.
We started off at the Powell cable-car turnaround at Market. Saint Gabriel's Celestial Brass Band appeared, on time, tuning up, and ready to play. I was so excited to see a New Orleans style marching band, I cannot emphasize this enough. I've participated in many political marches since the 1980s but lately there's been a plethora of incredibly talented dedicated musicians joining in. I didn't set out to film all of them, but I just keep noting how special it is that this is happening at all, and the fact that it's being set to traditional American music, makes it even more soulful.
Let's march! For Truth! For Justice! For the end of this corrupt administration! New Orleans Jazz forever!
 |
| IMP PEACH MINT |
 |
| "Nostalgic for Nixon" (note "FBI agents" in foreground) |
 |
| "RESIST" umbrellas help protect from sun damage |
 |
| St. Gabriel's Celestial Brass Band in action |
 |
| Down Market Street |
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| A fairly long walk to the Embarcadero - so many horn solos |
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| Trump nesting doll with "FBI" at Justin Herman Plaza |
 |
| Trump, Pence, Kushner, Page, Flynn and tiny Putin nesting dolls |
Let's Rally!
Indivisible SF MC Steve Rapport gave an extraordinary account of the Trump administration's shortcomings, read as a prose piece of insane, horrifying and all-true descriptors. One of the best uses of adjectives to damn corrupted power players who have no business being in power. The unveiling of the nesting dolls was well served by Rapport's summation.
More jazz, with marching, if that's what moves you.
Sunday, February 05, 2017
Songs with spelling in the chorus
With ubiquitous spell-check options, tiny keyboards, communication doled out by our bulky thumbs, and a public-educational system in constant flux, I'm concerned that our ability to spell is falling by the wayside. Case in point: I just had to look up how to spell "ubiquitous." I hope next time to get it right the first time.
Will songs that spell out their choruses help? I don't know—couldn't hurt. Let's celebrate spelling in song, spelling the lyrics out the R-E-S-P-E-C-T-take-care-of-TCB way.
Bo Diddley - "I'm a Man." Who is the man? Bo Diddley is the man. He spells it out succinctly right here. The originator of seriously rhythmic rhythm guitar, he influenced an untold legion of rock n rollers, especially mop-topped 60s-era British fellows who needed a healthy outlet for their pent-up class angst. The Rolling Stones revere him, as should we all.
Bay City Rollers - "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!" I'm sorry but no one gets out of here without some bubble-gum rock by Bay City Rollers. Partly because this was a huge hit that hugely featured spelling in its chorus. But also because when I was ten and taking piano lessons from our opera-fan neighbor, Mr. Nicholson, I went out and bought the sheet music to this song and made Mr. Nicholson listen to my solo-piano efforts with it. He was very patient with me but we soon parted ways after I followed up with Sweet's "Fox on the Run." That was pushing it with Mr. Nicholson.
Tammy Wynette - "D-I-V-O-R-C-E." To protect the kids from the emotional onslaught of a marital split-up, Wynette spells out the word. A very sad use of spelling.
Patti Smith - "Gloria." I'm featuring Smith's version here because she builds a mighty momentum before unleashing her spelling power. It isn't just about Gloria; it's about the spelling of her name, as part of some goddess ritual of pagan dimensions. At least that's how I see it. Them's "Gloria" is great in the earthy sense, as in "Hey, did ya hear? Van Morrison's got an awesome girlfriend and her name is Gloria."
The Cure - "Fire in Cairo." Young prodigy Robert Smith had the urge to spell and it works in great new-wave literary cheerleader fashion. The best musical geniuses mash all their influences and elements together and with careful editing and taste, create something new. I love his nervous, catchy guitar-work here too.
Kate Bush - "The Dreaming." Apparently Bush is spelling out the chorus and it goes something like this: Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee A-a-a-a-a (woomera) / M-m-m-m-m / Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti / I-i-i-i-i / Me-me-me-me-me / Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee / A-a-a-a-a / M-m-m-m-m / Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti. I had to look it up. She always did things her own way, and that includes spelling.
Cameo - "Word Up." The 80s were the golden age of pop-music spelling. Technically this is more like spelling out the bridge of the song, and it's a late-arriving bridge but a crucial one. Just when Cameo runs out of praises for the phrase, "Word Up," the chorus saves the day, chanting "W-O-R-D Up!" A good time is had by all.
Pixies - "Velouria." My theory of Pixies has altered over time. Studying their early releases, the art, the sound, the liner notes, I concluded that they were a band fronted by a genius guy who called himself Black Francis, with Kim Deal adding nuanced, fresh vocals and bass lines that resulted in elevating his songs to a higher level. That would make her the assistant genius. Over time and many listens to her discography, and after reading various biographies and interviews with Deal, I've come to realize that she was the innovative musical prodigy and genius, and Frank Black was therefore Pixies' assistant genius, who grabbed that genius mantle for himself, early on and often (my emphasis). And this led to tensions within the band, as you can imagine.
I will not post my findings here, but all you have to do is listen to every Pixies album in their release order to notice how Deal's haunting, melodic voice is, over time, shoved into the deep, deep background before disappearing completely in the mix, leaving us with some undistinguished Frank Black material. I'm not down on Frank Black material per se and perhaps Deal stepped aside at some point and wasn't always present for rehearsals and recording sessions. But if you accidentally find yourself in a newly formed band and the bass player alongside you turns out to be a musical genius, here's what I recommend: you step aside and let her do her thing. You contribute too, of course, but she's the innovator in the pure sense. Recognize and abide by that. You'll save your band and our ears.
Also, being in a band is hard—like a marriage but with multiple partners and little-to-no makeup sex to make the arguments go away. Anyway, she spells out the chorus here, and shortly thereafter, they broke up.
Will songs that spell out their choruses help? I don't know—couldn't hurt. Let's celebrate spelling in song, spelling the lyrics out the R-E-S-P-E-C-T-take-care-of-TCB way.
Bo Diddley - "I'm a Man." Who is the man? Bo Diddley is the man. He spells it out succinctly right here. The originator of seriously rhythmic rhythm guitar, he influenced an untold legion of rock n rollers, especially mop-topped 60s-era British fellows who needed a healthy outlet for their pent-up class angst. The Rolling Stones revere him, as should we all.
Bay City Rollers - "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!" I'm sorry but no one gets out of here without some bubble-gum rock by Bay City Rollers. Partly because this was a huge hit that hugely featured spelling in its chorus. But also because when I was ten and taking piano lessons from our opera-fan neighbor, Mr. Nicholson, I went out and bought the sheet music to this song and made Mr. Nicholson listen to my solo-piano efforts with it. He was very patient with me but we soon parted ways after I followed up with Sweet's "Fox on the Run." That was pushing it with Mr. Nicholson.
Tammy Wynette - "D-I-V-O-R-C-E." To protect the kids from the emotional onslaught of a marital split-up, Wynette spells out the word. A very sad use of spelling.
Patti Smith - "Gloria." I'm featuring Smith's version here because she builds a mighty momentum before unleashing her spelling power. It isn't just about Gloria; it's about the spelling of her name, as part of some goddess ritual of pagan dimensions. At least that's how I see it. Them's "Gloria" is great in the earthy sense, as in "Hey, did ya hear? Van Morrison's got an awesome girlfriend and her name is Gloria."
The Cure - "Fire in Cairo." Young prodigy Robert Smith had the urge to spell and it works in great new-wave literary cheerleader fashion. The best musical geniuses mash all their influences and elements together and with careful editing and taste, create something new. I love his nervous, catchy guitar-work here too.
Kate Bush - "The Dreaming." Apparently Bush is spelling out the chorus and it goes something like this: Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee A-a-a-a-a (woomera) / M-m-m-m-m / Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti / I-i-i-i-i / Me-me-me-me-me / Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee / A-a-a-a-a / M-m-m-m-m / Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti. I had to look it up. She always did things her own way, and that includes spelling.
Cameo - "Word Up." The 80s were the golden age of pop-music spelling. Technically this is more like spelling out the bridge of the song, and it's a late-arriving bridge but a crucial one. Just when Cameo runs out of praises for the phrase, "Word Up," the chorus saves the day, chanting "W-O-R-D Up!" A good time is had by all.
Pixies - "Velouria." My theory of Pixies has altered over time. Studying their early releases, the art, the sound, the liner notes, I concluded that they were a band fronted by a genius guy who called himself Black Francis, with Kim Deal adding nuanced, fresh vocals and bass lines that resulted in elevating his songs to a higher level. That would make her the assistant genius. Over time and many listens to her discography, and after reading various biographies and interviews with Deal, I've come to realize that she was the innovative musical prodigy and genius, and Frank Black was therefore Pixies' assistant genius, who grabbed that genius mantle for himself, early on and often (my emphasis). And this led to tensions within the band, as you can imagine.
I will not post my findings here, but all you have to do is listen to every Pixies album in their release order to notice how Deal's haunting, melodic voice is, over time, shoved into the deep, deep background before disappearing completely in the mix, leaving us with some undistinguished Frank Black material. I'm not down on Frank Black material per se and perhaps Deal stepped aside at some point and wasn't always present for rehearsals and recording sessions. But if you accidentally find yourself in a newly formed band and the bass player alongside you turns out to be a musical genius, here's what I recommend: you step aside and let her do her thing. You contribute too, of course, but she's the innovator in the pure sense. Recognize and abide by that. You'll save your band and our ears.
Also, being in a band is hard—like a marriage but with multiple partners and little-to-no makeup sex to make the arguments go away. Anyway, she spells out the chorus here, and shortly thereafter, they broke up.
Wednesday, February 01, 2017
SFO Protest of Trump's Immigration Ban - January 29, 2017
I marched on down (BART'd on down, actually) to San Francisco International Airport on Sunday the 29th, for the second day of protesting of our big-baby bossman's insane, gutless, confusing and Constitutionally illegal immigration ban. I had my video- and still-cameras in tow and I went alone with no signage or motive other than to capture the day's events. I'm so glad I did. It was a wondrous occurrence, completely organic and happening in the moment.
I filmed my journey throughout the long, cavernous International Terminal, filled to capacity with demonstrators, musicians, dancers, sign-makers and impromptu free-snack-bar volunteers (with donated snacks, sandwiches and water). My heart filled with gratitude and wonder at the kindness, passion and focus on display.
Since then, I've been recommending these videos to my friends who are fatigued and fighting despair on a daily basis since Trump started signing his ridiculous and dangerous dictatorial edicts. Currently it looks like a coup is taking place within our Federal government. I'm hoping the Democrats will rise to the occasion but they've been noble and polite (and in many cases complicit and lazy) for so long. Is it too little too late? This has happened before across the world. Are we equipped to deal with amoral sociopaths who use loopholes to get their way throughout their careers?
I cite our shameful history when the Federal and State governments were complicit in incarcerating thousands of legal citizens of Japanese ancestry to bleak internment camps in the California deserts during World War II, at a moment when we should have, as a nation, stood up and protested.
This is no different. This is a religious ban that goes directly against the First Amendment and will not lead to our safety. This is an arbitrary list drafted to appease the far right, that doesn't include a single Muslim-majority country that's housed a terrorist who's targeted our country. It's also a list of seven countries that the corrupt fear-monger in office has no financial ties with, unlike Saudi Arabia, where he has business interests—Saudi Arabia is not on the list.
I hope these images and sounds will raise your spirits.
SFO Protest Anti-Immigration-Ban Marching Band:
Anyone involved with this marvelous band, please get in touch with me so I can credit them. They were fabulous musically and riveting to watch. The "extended-cut" version follows the length of the concourse from the BART entrance to the end and back again. Two marching-band performances, lots of chanting, Sufi dancer, lovely humanity. Rated: very uplifting.
Some images from the day. It's surreal and amazing to protest in a huge international airport while police stand gamely by, cordoning off the domestic terminal and letting the people have their say. SFO airport personnel were polite. They smiled as they answered my questions about the day's events. According to The East Bay Times, five travelers entering the U.S. had been detained this weekend and the last one was released from the airport on Sunday afternoon.
The presidential order was signed on Friday and TSA officials weren't clear on how to enforce this hastily drafted shock-tactic document. We need to get it together and fast. Our standing as, "Land of the free, home of the brave," is quickly heading toward, "Land of chaos, home of the corrupt."
UPDATE, February 3, 2017: "Judge in Seattle halts Trump’s immigration order nationwide" - from The Seattle Times:
UPDATE 2, February 9, 2017: "Appeals Court Rejects Bid To Reinstate Trump's Travel Ban"
From Robert Reich's Facebook page:
I include this meme, which might come in handy over the next few years. Use it freely.
I filmed my journey throughout the long, cavernous International Terminal, filled to capacity with demonstrators, musicians, dancers, sign-makers and impromptu free-snack-bar volunteers (with donated snacks, sandwiches and water). My heart filled with gratitude and wonder at the kindness, passion and focus on display.
Since then, I've been recommending these videos to my friends who are fatigued and fighting despair on a daily basis since Trump started signing his ridiculous and dangerous dictatorial edicts. Currently it looks like a coup is taking place within our Federal government. I'm hoping the Democrats will rise to the occasion but they've been noble and polite (and in many cases complicit and lazy) for so long. Is it too little too late? This has happened before across the world. Are we equipped to deal with amoral sociopaths who use loopholes to get their way throughout their careers?
I cite our shameful history when the Federal and State governments were complicit in incarcerating thousands of legal citizens of Japanese ancestry to bleak internment camps in the California deserts during World War II, at a moment when we should have, as a nation, stood up and protested.
This is no different. This is a religious ban that goes directly against the First Amendment and will not lead to our safety. This is an arbitrary list drafted to appease the far right, that doesn't include a single Muslim-majority country that's housed a terrorist who's targeted our country. It's also a list of seven countries that the corrupt fear-monger in office has no financial ties with, unlike Saudi Arabia, where he has business interests—Saudi Arabia is not on the list.
I hope these images and sounds will raise your spirits.
SFO Protest Anti-Immigration-Ban Marching Band:
Anyone involved with this marvelous band, please get in touch with me so I can credit them. They were fabulous musically and riveting to watch. The "extended-cut" version follows the length of the concourse from the BART entrance to the end and back again. Two marching-band performances, lots of chanting, Sufi dancer, lovely humanity. Rated: very uplifting.
Some images from the day. It's surreal and amazing to protest in a huge international airport while police stand gamely by, cordoning off the domestic terminal and letting the people have their say. SFO airport personnel were polite. They smiled as they answered my questions about the day's events. According to The East Bay Times, five travelers entering the U.S. had been detained this weekend and the last one was released from the airport on Sunday afternoon.
The presidential order was signed on Friday and TSA officials weren't clear on how to enforce this hastily drafted shock-tactic document. We need to get it together and fast. Our standing as, "Land of the free, home of the brave," is quickly heading toward, "Land of chaos, home of the corrupt."
"In a 19-page complaint, Ferguson alleged Trump’s executive order violates constitutional guarantees of religious freedom and equal protection. The state of Minnesota has joined as a plaintiff, while attorneys general in several other states have also taken legal action against the controversial ban.
Ferguson’s lawsuit includes quotes by Trump during his presidential campaign, including his original pledge for “a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States.” The lawsuit alleges are evidence that the order was “motivated by animus and a desire to harm a particular group.” - (Jim Brunner, Jessica Lee and David Gutman)
UPDATE 2, February 9, 2017: "Appeals Court Rejects Bid To Reinstate Trump's Travel Ban"
From Robert Reich's Facebook page:
In a unanimous, 29-page opinion, three judges on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit flatly rejected Trump’s claim that his travel ban should be resumed immediately because of national security -- and that a president’s decisions about national security cannot be reviewed by the courts.
Trump’s almost immediate response was to tweet: “SEE YOU IN COURT, THE SECURITY OF OUR NATION IS AT STAKE!”
As usual, it’s not clear whether Trump is a knave or a fool.
1. “See you in court” makes no sense. After all, it’s the court that made this decision. If Trump is referring to the Supreme Court, he’s got two problems. First, the Supreme Court may not agree to hear the case. Rarely if ever does the Supreme Court review a lower court decision to temporarily stay a law or executive order. Second, even if the Court does hear the case, it’s likely to split 4 to 4 on it – keeping the court of appeals decision in place.
2. Trump doesn’t seem to understand the appeals court decision. It wasn’t that Trump isn’t allowed to keep the nation secure. Of course he is. The Constitution gives a president that power as commander-in-chief. It’s that he can’t do it immediately, without a thorough judicial review of whether he’s also trampling on other constitutional rights – such as the First Amendment’s ban on establishing a religion or prohibiting its free exercise.
***
I include this meme, which might come in handy over the next few years. Use it freely.
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