tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7185898086663928632024-03-13T02:01:04.053-07:00The Disgruntled DylanologistTHOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-2634596791625825032009-11-22T11:35:00.000-08:002009-11-29T12:15:03.466-08:00Newsweek finds Sarah Palin the perfect 2012 running mate<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />The man in me will do nearly any task,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And as for compensation, there's little he would ask.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Take a woman like you</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">To get through to the man in me.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSJyLUYAAmXrbapAyykXzY520NvJeGVASKg1HaanutW6n6FO_zBvRx7KBmYgXndm_lrz4Q7hKFC1r51g_QK6kZ20sgyCLlktC7mufWo378mZ7oxVV6CFEdiPi-ycW7nHjao49gE-97TE/s1600/PalinNewsweek.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 117px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSJyLUYAAmXrbapAyykXzY520NvJeGVASKg1HaanutW6n6FO_zBvRx7KBmYgXndm_lrz4Q7hKFC1r51g_QK6kZ20sgyCLlktC7mufWo378mZ7oxVV6CFEdiPi-ycW7nHjao49gE-97TE/s200/PalinNewsweek.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409613150936340290" border="0" /></a>Sarah Palin is hot. Her approval numbers are up nearly 10 points, sales of her autobiography, <span style="font-style: italic;">Going Rogue</span>, topped 300,000 on its first day of release, and any show she has appeared on in the last week has experienced a guaranteed ratings spike.<br /><br />And then there’s this week’s cover of <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span>…<br /><br />Appearing a tight thermal-fit, half-zip red running top and equally firm-fitting<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11KDY74lDCtgZ3sXleW65b-1Zohi8cqzZCoprimgdnWBKedU4fqn2_IHsV2AWCNqm3_YrkhhKXiwzYAF967CeHDVqPRjDi50QhLoA4tlRyPMbLiHcdNRGgcFMNIcQBKVcVitvV4WGBhI/s200/Palin+2012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409615160744401074" border="0" /> black running shorts, Palin came across as the perfect running mate. If, that is, she were running an Alaskan 10K instead of taking a lap around the country to test out her presidential prospects for 2012.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1CZ9Mc4LntLNTJau7LUoPGEs0dTNjs65qvMSfVDNbSVnuN9KV-s0b096Cb4rtA-G1y-kQ8CQ2I6XNGftrGSpATyMcTx6DzZiWng6ULJPV1NZvK927oYQ7a3Ukf6_3KgCKrjLwKxT7SE/s1600/palin_imarunner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1CZ9Mc4LntLNTJau7LUoPGEs0dTNjs65qvMSfVDNbSVnuN9KV-s0b096Cb4rtA-G1y-kQ8CQ2I6XNGftrGSpATyMcTx6DzZiWng6ULJPV1NZvK927oYQ7a3Ukf6_3KgCKrjLwKxT7SE/s200/palin_imarunner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409613950701460770" border="0" /></a>Taken from an August 2009 issue of <span style="font-style: italic;">Runner’s World</span>, the picture was one of seven taken of the then-Alaskan governor for the magazine’s popular “I’m a Runner” series. Ironically, the photo <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> chose for their Palin cover story wasn’t even the one used in <span style="font-style: italic;">Runner’s World</span>.<br /><br />Technically, it shouldn’t have graced the cover of <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span>, either, since it has subsequently been reported that all the photos taken that day are still under a one-year embargo.<br /><br />But how <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> got the photo of the leggy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOeBdXBPbvCeeOWomukwgpjdEMXoZGnsNkK6GslQCdAeM9by7jY9nVO659FBNLtxqBfPGu80NEwrmMHge10WXp0C-W9ISndmDeN5w6FPCPFFOkEqCHGI9MH_zL7Nsg6XzKWdEjHe54jY/s1600/Playboy+Feb_+2008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOeBdXBPbvCeeOWomukwgpjdEMXoZGnsNkK6GslQCdAeM9by7jY9nVO659FBNLtxqBfPGu80NEwrmMHge10WXp0C-W9ISndmDeN5w6FPCPFFOkEqCHGI9MH_zL7Nsg6XzKWdEjHe54jY/s200/Playboy+Feb_+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409614107404565282" border="0" /></a> former Alaskan legislator is hardly the point (according to the newsweekly, it was provided by the photographer’s stock agent without <span style="font-style: italic;">Runner World’s</span> knowledge or approval). The fact they used a photo that could have just as easily appeared on the cover of <span style="font-style: italic;">Playboy</span> is the real issue here.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">[Writer’s aside: Maybe it’s still not too late for you to snag the rights, Hef? </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKKoFwEUpnNKkPUHs2IvkI5alciQ-kN7edeAG4guL9uAa21SYNlwb42SU8hSWGobodBTRE7eDlL1-6axU81HoqwJ1rTo4h3h94nnv5SDl4z6Y3AK4yzNkrkpDayAtT8puryRstg48S0E/s1600/levi-johnston-playgirl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKKoFwEUpnNKkPUHs2IvkI5alciQ-kN7edeAG4guL9uAa21SYNlwb42SU8hSWGobodBTRE7eDlL1-6axU81HoqwJ1rTo4h3h94nnv5SDl4z6Y3AK4yzNkrkpDayAtT8puryRstg48S0E/s200/levi-johnston-playgirl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409614301694875090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">A picture of a </span><span style="font-style: italic;">scantily clad Palin standing next to a disheveled A</span><span style="font-style: italic;">merican flag draped suggestively over a chair would make a wonderful companion piece on the newsstand when estranged, almost-son-in-law Levi Johnston appears on the cover of </span>Playgirl<span style="font-style: italic;"> next month.]</span><br /><br />One can understand how Palin might be a tad up in arms about <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fsuEuoUXf8ZOxLx6U0Z-PyjyWv-9FkWXeYoSRmJDLA7bk84ae9WCukJcHvjj8Uaf3bpILwHogjdbJVRt2Pi9sjZRKvn8S2FQk29mn1ZVS1mGr_GZ9JgyJkXZj0hzN72in-1sYkoOjps/s1600/Palin+facebook.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fsuEuoUXf8ZOxLx6U0Z-PyjyWv-9FkWXeYoSRmJDLA7bk84ae9WCukJcHvjj8Uaf3bpILwHogjdbJVRt2Pi9sjZRKvn8S2FQk29mn1ZVS1mGr_GZ9JgyJkXZj0hzN72in-1sYkoOjps/s200/Palin+facebook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409614474100113650" border="0" /></a>the selection of the picture. “The choice of photo for the cover of this week’s Newsweek is unfortunate,” Palin wrote on her Facebook page. “When it comes to Sarah Palin, this ‘news’ magazine has relished focusing on the irrelevant rather than the relevant.”<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPhay3syN73QnoUcwfd87gkjChrKuV7Leef2Fyp57qMse_iY6YInMoAiTDnFY7_OLODcc7DMvK7qUo1s57tDIRU5xuKmb6fPvOewhz4e1QDh9Yeb6h9cMY-YbTmpmHuQ3gWbY3Yuq9yTk/s200/sarah-palin-runners-world-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409614754418747730" border="0" />Aside from the annoying, increasingly recurring habit of referring to herself in the third person, Palin has a point. As Palin went on to emphasize, the <span style="font-style: italic;">Runner’</span><span style="font-style: italic;">s World</span> profile <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> taken to promote health and physical fitness, not her fitness for public office. The headline the editors chose to juxtapose against Palin’s pinup shot didn’t help matters much either.<br /><br />“How Do You Solve a Problem Like Sarah?” suggests Palin is, in fact, a problem. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10NVJdssbUlVW0_nLK3VaXJc1RrIfvsFaWS-9oqILU1J7ZoZx9I6VECYoU92ICyevvyA8_UJrGj3Q-W0-xasFQtHhroPbYpBlKiWXsjNheXv0g2bdn-Bd7jR1UFl6-A_bDgjVifZnEKk/s200/palin+campaign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409613701698008466" border="0" /> And while her reemergence on the political scene has certainly forced the pundits to take sides, the majority of Middle America could care less that Palin has hopped back on the political treadmill.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNv3zjHupqB1sfETQSHqF1VLt19VnHOM2FaXTdMEz5tg-7wdrMJkVeK2llDaGWxYR8C0CBkIQ1F2QgOVYQqujcrlc2E4yvvxv_8NOxGKn22JF30EEA9WjjaUEF7u0XwbRqh4Uvp0jh8U/s200/obama-shirtless-upclose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409615520969547794" border="0" />And while Palin’s personal popularity is on the rise as Obama’s job performance ratings are steadily declining, things might change if Newsweek were to put the shot of a bare-chested Obama that was taken last summer on the cover. But until that happens, it only makes sense that when it comes to the poll dance, Palin wins.<br /><br />This isn’t the first time Sarah Palin and the Right have <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0Oh6oF6vijc5v_amHoN5dzJPpPf7afmZtcyEsAeGUfJloE6lcILbeiaerqfuUc1RGmNdfOClTfE6cRnXxZmMTtPgAbcZiPKz9Wz2pzPh2O6kbg8A2wpqKZrQf1NIz-SS79LV7wDLZBU/s1600/prnphotos075704-newsweek.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0Oh6oF6vijc5v_amHoN5dzJPpPf7afmZtcyEsAeGUfJloE6lcILbeiaerqfuUc1RGmNdfOClTfE6cRnXxZmMTtPgAbcZiPKz9Wz2pzPh2O6kbg8A2wpqKZrQf1NIz-SS79LV7wDLZBU/s200/prnphotos075704-newsweek.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409615833921834210" border="0" /></a>taken issue with a <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> cover. During the height of the 2008 presidential campaign, Palin was placed on the cover of the popular newsweekly. It wasn’t, however, her finely-toned body that was at the center of the debate. It was her face.<br /><br />The tightly-cropped photo highlighted every unwanted facial hair, every pore, every wrinkle, and—gasp!!—a few gray hairs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYCXZqHZqarmH9cYNNZ5oG1uJRqe5CJblzCn4wf87IyNYsQChpWgTYF4J06yGgBSak5XNK48HvuL0YPmZJXRkAeW_FhCkaHc8kreJYvpgQ5cP3FK6GDMB_bIJliUgdqvycmKqV9n3XMA/s1600/Palin+cu.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYCXZqHZqarmH9cYNNZ5oG1uJRqe5CJblzCn4wf87IyNYsQChpWgTYF4J06yGgBSak5XNK48HvuL0YPmZJXRkAeW_FhCkaHc8kreJYvpgQ5cP3FK6GDMB_bIJliUgdqvycmKqV9n3XMA/s200/Palin+cu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409616035871071666" border="0" /></a>Yes, the <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> article was little more than a series of cheap Palin potshots, but the Right’s indignation of Newsweek’s calling attention to Palin’s literal and symbolic imperfections were, much like the facial features the photo accentuated, woefully exaggerated.<br /><br />This week’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> cover has a remarkably similar stridency: “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Sarah?”<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-F6un2Q9GnazNqqvlM8z1IWIW3-ma3tmo_x6xF7nx_lGAF7HPBgsUXcafui3_1x1pkjf2tieWZzpFaB2Xro2XenaMeDoNLvzyVZZkj89gXdP5SN6MXYt_zPQTxtW0M9lQMrtCzLh7p8/s200/Meacham.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409616244327198098" border="0" />The fact both articles were written by the editor, Jon Meacham, accounts for the consistency. But when asked about the selection of photo, Meacham defended the decision saying it was “the most interesting image available.”<br /><br />Interesting to whom, Jon, conservative white males who have grown tired of pants suits, patent leather shoes and perfectly quaffed hairdos that hearken back to the glorious 80s?<br /><br />Truth be told, it’s hard to blame Meacham and higher-ups at <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> for selecting a picture that portrays Palin as doe-eyed sexpot. After all, we all know sex sells.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8w-1J3TfvlupOrfVwF9KywakT3XwBBkxzbUc6RGaaLAUNTgsvL6GUA96Y_xENttdykbiEZWtBE4BceZNOdyKfXjabB7E0C3Op-p_AIbZL-GTVtTm-PrvMR5jl_iMe_mJn4VxDtnB9eE/s200/parishilton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409616669130564946" border="0" />As for Palin’s ‘outrage’ over being marginalized by her sexuality, she ought to be thanking the editors at <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span>, not maligning them. At the end of the day, <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> and Palin are in the same business— this week anyway. Both need to push product. <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek’s </span>circulation is in a virtual freefall; Palin has a new book to flack.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRaVFTqZglh1wJIkiVTBZtMvj4g1WunDiUwdTjEhxtBb7sEPy4o-jNNkdqITwa2ibVnAqvzUNVnZ6ivWarAJdbSMoCTQWpA3fNkJ3S9PLxM3ZgTtuU2MktfZRTTkMpRtGWmKDQfQZqWA/s1600/palin-going-rogue-cover.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 47px; height: 73px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRaVFTqZglh1wJIkiVTBZtMvj4g1WunDiUwdTjEhxtBb7sEPy4o-jNNkdqITwa2ibVnAqvzUNVnZ6ivWarAJdbSMoCTQWpA3fNkJ3S9PLxM3ZgTtuU2MktfZRTTkMpRtGWmKDQfQZqWA/s200/palin-going-rogue-cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409619556741771058" border="0" /></a>And Palin must know how hot she looks in that tight thermal-fit, half-zip red running top since she apparently pulled it out of mothballs for the cover of <span style="font-style: italic;">Going Rogue</span>…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaK3ILr8bOu4UriXCX3IBZjge1owLhZsbNeg3RE0RjSAZvxys6jbCeO52RSbYQSWYlFoQWtEOpXVg1qjgjb7uWgpngm4DCnMglAlDvQ3uPARtfx21wDaY2UATfL9zz29DVubPegn_frU/s200/Dylan-BW%2520Headshot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409619806574719122" border="0" /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">But, oh, what a wonderful feeling<br />Just to know that you are near,<br />Sets my a heart a-reeling<br />From my toes up to my ears.<span></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">_________________________________________________<br /><br />BLOGGER'S NOTE: Wanna keep on keepin' on with Dylan? Well, that's what those links to the right are for</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. Or maybe you're in the mood for a mystery? </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Tracks-Novel-Tom-Grasty/dp/0595461808/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234807167&sr=1-1"><span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Check out</span> </span></span></span></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Tracks-Novel-Tom-Grasty/dp/0595461808/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234807167&sr=1-1"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">BLOOD</span> ON THE TRACKS</span></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-41864951451756301392009-11-08T12:13:00.000-08:002009-11-29T12:10:00.938-08:00“It Takes a Train”: Warren Buffett buys into Bob Dylan’s vision of America<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Don't the moon look good, mama,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Shinin' thro</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">ugh the trees?</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Don't the brakeman look good, mama,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Flagging down the "Double E"?</span><br /><br />The train song is one of America’s most important musical genres. It's <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2C4QnJQSs_DmBzQqVzqZQTGd56b4bUvbxZNamT21YIkk3j6UcIpQJq8GDx93Fx0Pr1oMZT0s7bMT2yd9mSPb-4C19pxCJMRNqIdS4S7fDxxgF20CFIXKbm_-MNDduBe91ltpiNt4tZoI/s200/TrainSong.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401829260415368242" border="0" />also one of the most enduring. Over the last 150 years, the train song has formed the bedrock of the American music experience. And of all the enduring American troubadours, few are as partial to a good train song as Bob Dylan.<br /><br />Whether it’s the tale of a wayward woman<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGKyWnb-zBaNSvI57N07nZOo1F5AqwamHyIqFKeOjVRXC-5BD5Ncef1ghjClfh_XLQIAZWeEGGyhBCNHshs5SFgCm7-SzB50VQRjt01uaZEun6g72s9oVf4FcdgHQHHYKe3gtUW9xJf8/s200/HotTopic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401829532253488114" border="0" /> forced to live outside the law by jumping a railroad gate to escape a persistent suitor (“Absolutely Sweet Marie”); a luckless sot who casts his last fated lot by flagging down the ‘Double E’ ("It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry”); a stranger bound to ramble through the ice, sleet and rain to get back to God’s golden shore (“Man of Constant Sorrow”); or the slow distant rumblings the coming of the Lord (“Slow Train Coming”)— trains are an integral part of the Dylan landscape.<br /><br />The word ‘train’ appears in no fewer than 39 Dylan songs. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8-bJTp8oJkOeMUE2IG0k8H3o7CDdd30dE4UsqI3T9UA3yNAyvo8Ir4xLXSO4RIDUX5KGdWrFeL2ucIYC0s1VrZF9DY8XrfijFoCtpZDSiHK2-Rd_5TbC241_BEnFjhg0RU_5VxJRMK4/s200/bob-dylan-and-johnny-cash-pic-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401829675548895010" border="0" />The word, ‘railroad’, in another half dozen. And when Bob paid homage to Johnny Cash (a one-time mentor and fellow train aficionado) on the 2002 tribute album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Kindred Spirits</span>, the song Dylan chose to serenade the country music legend was none other than “Train of Love.”<br /><br />Warren Buffett, it seems, also has a thing for <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMg7L0De87s-EO5QWD4_wvqq3gKUXvRKR80MHs9bQD5CUAgn5uuc6qouHIuK1EX9u-BWICXm1MXUOVk9r55nivEj4e5hNZWerl8TJKMCo3YN3klTz6KjSpA_pMNNbOoeYERkZr8ZXryY/s200/buffett+waves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401829921977863842" border="0" />trains. So much so that last week the celebrated financier paid close to $35 billion to acquire the Burlington Northern Santa Fe, the nation’s second largest railroad.<br /><br />And what exactly you may ask is the correlation between the famed ‘Oracle of Omaha’ and the traveling minstrel from Minnesota? In a word: America.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsjrjaB9vSpCiWEgsJHGxlh1IesdmqomTacdNTV5he7NL5c6RdIhbcpHOGffLT9L5Hp4rx_fWijve0ucDWnvAj2qb_7V0vas5ll_dcxwsZ3sYmAM6DPQ-VeuEpM21YnrYKiQZ5HK78tPo/s200/dylan-train-track.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401830310396984466" border="0" />Bob Dylan’s songs have always been about the American experience. Sometimes that portrayal has been dark, sometimes it’s highlighted our better angels. But it’s always been honest. And for Bob, nothing is more honest and uniquely American than riding the rails. There’s just something about trains that captivates him.<br /><br />Maybe it’s the way the pipes and pistons glisten in the evening sun,<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipblW4JIN3G-gai22Vt41K5pDQq91EldIB47CxTioxOpcNWYxZz66t3MbZOUa2yscqMEJAy6RXvguUeVCBENZafWdhEanGm7a7A2VmL-F3FpPmSNVGp9U7NSmzUYDIgbld3JBtl3SJ_ms/s200/train+smoke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401830577234107346" border="0" /> their slow, methodical churning filling you with the promise of a new beginning. Maybe it’s the smell from the burning coal as it fills the nostrils of the passer-byers after rising up through the smokestack and out into the night. Or maybe it’s sound of the conductor’s whistle as it splits the night in two.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 88px; height: 107px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqH-hHLA9zZopqvLzbljROfDi0tchTqPnsFYMzSGLn65kwHdi3PK1rUiVafNoz-C5PL1rzM2nzK_xbwZXYqnW7CFOOQz-ij5Yfu47b0sKTo1cCwFOaEYDathS8oHtxcJZVrNt2ViD2U0g/s200/hobos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401830829038594946" border="0" />As for the people who ride those trains, Dylan has nothing but admiration for them. Clearly, he revels their sense of adventure; embraces their sense of longing; covets the freedom they effortlessly embody.<br /><br />One gets a sense Warren Buffett probably feels the same way.<br /><br />After news broke of Buffett’s recent purchase, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfP_DobL9o02DAP2D-IEQLQkMMiSRB_KFeY_NZ18UimhmVbDhyphenhypheniThzUMB3BeH8VXEGvZcQq3jqrAhAWhmeLLCWp2k-CucHTaG53birZ6wkkJSPZrPR7o7c5EtcpLSHC45MZG_G7AVlJc/s200/lionel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401831356080925170" border="0" />he jokingly replied: “This is all happening because my father didn't buy me a train set as a kid." Of course, Buffett’s billion-dollar investment in the Northern Burlington Railroad was more than a sentimental journey back to his childhood.<br /><br />Buffett may have been playing the field when he stepped up<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtnXwVtJLsQXWpbfYuoFyYDaOPCVrDC95y_YNarTRYn9DoSEolOnm6T7sZI59xRC89WxQtzDLkdz1EKoK5omcRO-FxoBycs5FG_qyOuy3qFiPz7bho4Ilk8RXJnfw9T5JybKRidzRV5o/s200/box-cars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401831564195288338" border="0" /> to the table and rolled a pair of ‘box cars’ last week. But if history is any indication, don’t count on him crapping out any time soon.<br /><br />“It's an all-in wager on the economic future of the United States,” he said last Tuesday when asked about the investment, the biggest ever for his Berkshire Hathaway investment company, “I love these bets.”<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1egKA2p33YKWuNo6jEXyCwFSvzPcCQCOUwQ3rbdHsBQNhlZTjUaVBlk3loeffZtV27hbsPEvx1ZYlVvkk_IfVkGN28YIu4gRPo0u-Ltk2reX8PjC_gxchjS5M_Gh-q827qa9-LDJMQs/s200/obamawinsA1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401831859524760914" border="0" />The Administration probably loves the wager, too. After all, what president wouldn’t like a $35 billion cash-infused validation of their economic policy, especially a policy as contentious as the recent Obama-Pelosi-Reid $787 billion dollar stimulus package?<br /><br />Buffett puts on no airs about his admiration of Barack Obama. But by purchasing the Burlington Northern, Buffett laid his cards on the table for all to see. And you don’t need a Tarot reader to decipher the Oracle of Omaha’s latest pronouncement: America is back on track.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WA4Is1ek-YouRHDLDJD5cTqZcFr4TZiALt1_c-2_-lyrPG7Snq3zbtugB8c4Ya4e33NyfXnKVVnvLmsJOVlfOvuC4pRGSyM4jMhJr2tni1Xxh_x3O2ExpAhCOogJb6u_SC2LUvS-6EA/s200/Sante+Fe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401832296375321282" border="0" />The logic behind the purchase is, like so many of Buffett’s investment decisions, strikingly simple. As U.S. commerce recovers, so too will demand to move goods around the country. And the largest mover of refrigerators, clothing and TVs? Burlington Northern Santa Fe.<br /><br />And make no question, Buffet’s affirmation in America’s future couldn't have come a better time. Abroad, we are on the verge of committing <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizrzdYQIVfCOF_ezuQfWlLOmM4f89nrXszk-FXFJychCZ7iGgqoUGm33bOyffpbP-0WAlamor1gtSF-jOPRQVPWov1gAxps2kJd4P21_oOudLGNl9hQxu7WGJZNixCRaYGY2V_tvvAX_0/s1600-h/Obama-Reid-Pelosi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizrzdYQIVfCOF_ezuQfWlLOmM4f89nrXszk-FXFJychCZ7iGgqoUGm33bOyffpbP-0WAlamor1gtSF-jOPRQVPWov1gAxps2kJd4P21_oOudLGNl9hQxu7WGJZNixCRaYGY2V_tvvAX_0/s200/Obama-Reid-Pelosi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401833292769364194" border="0" /></a>as many as 20,000 more troops to Afghanistan. At home, we find ourselves still picking through the economic debris brought on by the worst financial shit storm to hit this nation in the last 60 years. Frankly, it’s all just about enough to make you want to pack up our knapsacks and ride that nonstop mailtrain all the way down to Acapulco. Just don't count on Buffett's recently acquired railroad to take you there.<br /><br />Because while the Burlington Northern may haul corn, coal and a host of commercial goods, one thing it doesn’t haul is passengers. So if you still feel compelled to hop a train bound for nowhere and leave your worries behind, perhaps a Bob Dylan song might just be the ticket.<br /><br />Lord knows, you've got plenty to choose from…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATiCAdyED_GEnUSI8aU63u_4qspQtHI-Sio4usaTc6hRO0yBD7DJVPrg9dX-6UMO0bfWeZWSSgHFwhvK4Cy57fOyjJLx9HeIAJkQLIeXizDL0mAIQ6-97eeGI6qhfNY6bqhMr0tOAzJs/s200/dyl61.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401834011816224482" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Well, I wanna be your lover, baby,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I don't wanna be your boss.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Don't say I never warned you</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">When your train gets lost.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-62176420639581725122009-10-18T16:03:00.000-07:002009-11-08T12:35:45.012-08:00“Man of Peace”: Barack Obama wins prize based on noble intentions<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />He's a great humanitarian, he's a great </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">philanthropist,<br />He knows just where to touch you, honey, and how </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">you like to be kis</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">sed.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">He'll put both his arms around you,<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">You can feel the tender touch of the beast.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">You know that s</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">ometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lybs3zsD7W1zUjZHy4LK-yUHWR7yhnUcIm8luwV0VI4v9wHziU2O_gZc_FjKkzfbeUpH6FyPo-1kBPbWapsTauDe3ftcvn0allOBOMi_JO1rXshhkrfIlSd6WvE1HOl6-JC5WWGDW1w/s200/obama_god.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397421206282173618" border="0" />In recent months, Barack Obama has been called many things— a saint, a sinner, a savior, a scourge. But just as Obama is not the literal Second Coming, he probably isn’t Satan either.<br /><br />According the five-man Nobel Peace Prize committee, however, Barack Obama is a man of peace.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7BM-BTFC2fc2hvv_rY2JQlvq2oGL2DHCOv8kBe494wCLz9lWZ8DkdJlQS5Dv62HH_PhDSKadtqF1kpEViJx_4xkQbdpmtu_2LgRXwG1JRLZRs2voslwr257o21hTcLWTUnlsNBzXjT0/s200/tiananmen_square3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397423721425973554" border="0" />The irony that the world's most prestigious peace award has been bestowed on the newly-minted president— a man who has yet to stop any wars, right any innate injustices, or dismantle any of the world’s arsenals hasn't been lost on anyone.<br /><br />But considering military escalation in Afghanistan is all but inevitable, the Iranian mullahs are allowing the beheading their political rivals and North Korea is nearing nuclear proliferation with each passing day, no one doubts we need someone to stand up for peace. It's just that the selection of Barack Obama has more than a few people scratching their heads.<br /><br />But he beat them all. One hundred and seventy-two individuals, 33 organizations— a total of 205 nominations. The most ever.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 108px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXL-6o0ErkoeXlixmYfSngXJQypW0Os0HuQC_c1NfE41wYwrWjrMQuBuTJaDpm6L6rTR9wUtmiEaOZffCUWq5ZP9_lh0d6nKcDBghtTQiOF-J11B7Z_xRiQVrcqZ7A0sk0aC8oOb4Qq8/s200/men_confused.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397423945256874306" border="0" />In the past, the coveted peace prize has gone to monks, martyrs, social activists, scientists, former Communists, and environmental conservationists. However, it seems this year it went to a man whose biggest accomplishment to date was restoring some semblance of dignity to the presidency simply by <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> being George Bush.<br /><br />In light of the global backlash over the decision, however, apparently dignity does not a dignitary make.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6dSxMMfcS1lzOOA2Rc57Z9uybmnSlTWOWgUmvuaOp4irj8pdg-LLvFYxL9_BkCHh-CCTaUL0DVeSKB8MqxUmb99T2FJTOGPh_kNmASpmUZHq4l_lgNcX6AqUv6JKRQNcE7Q4TLQJ0Grg/s200/nobel-prize.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397424504334572050" border="0" />Even Obama was ill at ease when he heard the news. Not since Bill Clinton was asked about a certain blue dress worn by a certain intern by the name of Monica Lewinsky, or Richard Nixon was questioned about a certain group of ‘plumbers’ sent to fix a ‘leak’ in a certain Watergate hotel has a sitting president seemed so uncomfortable.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtACZXQCifSUKvcpz5rsamgC0wCkZDX19adv0AS_q3QpH0wlOB7gomek6pk-RhFTeVUZNz8omlDiqdAHcSZs4Ictlp3T-zJR_lfltIYw3zyajxecCKI2NUmgl2sSiSgadaGrrjTlf8eYI/s200/Norweigan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397425232668355762" border="0" />Unlike his predecessors, however, Obama did not bring the decidedly awkward moment upon himself. That distinction belongs to the five-man Norwegian Nobel Committee that nominated him just 12 days into his prescient presidency.<br /><br />Of course, in all the hubbub over Barack Obama’s merits as a man of peace, one true man of merit was overlooked…<br /><br />This year marks the seventh time Bob Dylan <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPokf97MMsUZOtn7MXUZRjUPBzZ1DRwQNpk5E1AlngrZnkxgQxUDPOpLiuTIg4ChWH1wZNCJU3nMz3mWHOWYAd2fSVcdu2KhyphenhyphenUQZ1-owZKk0LXddNDBF5jfsz7YQu86tDzGeAEYlSHMGw/s200/Dylanphd_vmed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397426203021112850" border="0" />has been nominated—and passed over—for a Nobel Prize. The reason for the repeated slight is, like just about everything related to Dylan, a bit of a mystery. Most music critics agree that Dylan is perhaps the most profound wordsmith in modern music. Yet Dylan’s repeated nomination has yet to cement consensus among literary authorities, who are plagued by the nagging question as to whether song lyrics qualify for literature's most prestigious award.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 126px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5cgpZXjLrcgRSb27R77Mh-1tDo4jtwhYQ7xrsAe8gQZO2NIplQu_OzeNQaPCFfRqpYfYVVE8X0eUoTuVxyAjw4nYiaE7s3w1gDAhzrX2b9TeNjR75FS0xaumFioyL3eMs-2boVwKEnU/s200/OBAMA_narrowweb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397426574820842546" border="0" />The irony, of course, is that the lyrical nature of Barack Obama's words, rather than quantifiable results of his actions, was probably the largest contributing factor leading to Obama receiving this year’s prize.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54F5O50KZxy9lbN7OyVOTEJQokptLkr5YpEI8fsyuKObIANcZRJpwynsgYwh90iohEkzle2QNs1LPYYYo02OZtC9SvAaLP7p_lBvDfbtPOIb17o9s_hh7X3U9Wr2nwz6E7bpejOxmXBg/s1600-h/obama-nobel-peace.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54F5O50KZxy9lbN7OyVOTEJQokptLkr5YpEI8fsyuKObIANcZRJpwynsgYwh90iohEkzle2QNs1LPYYYo02OZtC9SvAaLP7p_lBvDfbtPOIb17o9s_hh7X3U9Wr2nwz6E7bpejOxmXBg/s200/obama-nobel-peace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397427351465918498" border="0" /></a>To his credit, Obama publicly acknowledged that he didn’t deserve to be in the company of the past Peace Prize winners. And though it seems unfathomable that he would have rebuked the esteemed Nobel committee, Obama <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> have an alternative: Turn it down.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlen727KrVcni6MGms_J50x6CNbHBwin3zuVz3eoDzWh3crqv9taXGVOQXCR-3veX3V_35qDBkFr-56z9jJRDKuMTeuH0R2O6Fg-5CAqNvcYV0IMj6LdEE-nGFbFfbi9mcXLTbdfn2y4o/s200/obama-messiah2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397428020958846018" border="0" />As Ross Douthat in <span style="font-style: italic;">The New York Times</span> noted in his assessment of the brouhaha following the Nobel announcement, saying ‘no thanks’ to the premature honor would have offended no one but the Norwegians who selected him. It would also have sent a clear signal to Congress and world community that Obama is finally willing to relinquish the thorny messianic crown that, as Douthat accurately observed, has both accompanied—and impeded—his presidency.<br /><br />There’s no question a large part of Barack Obama’s success<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlRQDHpbfg5T00n0iGiXINKXyq35YRoTcX1vapdQxFQ3V62uj3r2cwfrlt22SD-ZQY-BV9alWiJx3p8E1SGBSAMYCbtNEB5odbkT56V5GHMjRQL7xwnwlZw7-DFWouw0qXuZ8_z4iyVs/s200/Obama-Finished-018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397429510245556690" border="0" />—and a major factor contributing to the ‘pushback’ he has experienced in recent months—revolves around this daunting duality. On the one hand, there is Barack Obama ‘the myth’; on the other, Barack Obama ‘the man.’ The problem is that these qualities are not at opposite ends of the spectrum. Rather, there are inextricably intertwined.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVw7gYwjQ28KrbzZeD1uE4ShfZXmu5YFXhnDvVhXqBPdK3kRyIG2LtmhuGjE_FQ0LRd4lSdRbT5vvorMoFlFc1kHmQWfyp42h7KSifMxt5t_sQmZGLu-G8TFq5SyjHKZnmwqp69Uo15lo/s200/obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397431319997872690" border="0" />Without question there's a mystique that imbues Barack Obama. And judging from their unanimous decision, the Nobel Peace Committee has fully bought into that mystique. But by confusing the notion of aspiration and accountability, the Committee has done a disservice to the Nobel Peace Prize as well as their latest laureate.<br /><br />By awarding Barack Obama this year’s prize, the Committee effectively debased the criteria upon which the prize was founded. It is not enough simply to set the table for peace; you must serve up the meal. The only thing Obama brought to the table was the Kool-aide. And the Committee drank it up in spades.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBFeUViS9t-YNu-CIu9hNRQaHcDFE-h1tWqeLPGCOVsJP71-YGPZpojfo9sL-Sl8fjbTJwb-khR55EFyWzdXPA5wflxXsDk5zW-bc7Cr5OkiK0-MPXCrkrlGiUMCwnrGyFxL5cgCGivw/s1600-h/EMPEROR+HAS+NO+CLOTHES.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBFeUViS9t-YNu-CIu9hNRQaHcDFE-h1tWqeLPGCOVsJP71-YGPZpojfo9sL-Sl8fjbTJwb-khR55EFyWzdXPA5wflxXsDk5zW-bc7Cr5OkiK0-MPXCrkrlGiUMCwnrGyFxL5cgCGivw/s200/EMPEROR+HAS+NO+CLOTHES.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397431574875131442" border="0" /></a>And while the fault lies mostly at the feet of the Nobel Committee for this evident blunder, the culpability is not theirs alone. By accepting the prize, the nascent US President allowed himself to be placed high atop a tenuous pedestal like some conquering Roman hero. And now that Obama has ascended to that precarious perch, he's handed his opponents the perfect segue to make the case that the Emperor has no clothes.<br /><br />Come to think about it, maybe Dylan ought to be<span style="font-style: italic;"> thankful</span> the Nobel Prize Committee keeps passing him over…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 86px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Ye3qqgOh6f0dLFnNgBsGXNvs8d_mh15j_M9kmMauY2e1KRBIoYZEkyPgCB9AnZwY6I39rqpqkDBlNzctrylSj6ic9Bc3eUnFGTe14DpeZTOa7EYBa_1_OndYEZ0-k2PeSPyke1nvGvw/s200/dylan22102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397433254729351282" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">He got a sweet gift of gab, he got a harmonious tongue,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">He knows every song of love that ever has been sung.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Good intentions can be evil,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Both hands can be full of grease.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-57340968066196421332009-10-11T08:49:00.000-07:002009-10-28T09:12:17.729-07:00“Holiday in the Highlands”: Bob Dylan’s Christmas album ‘sleighted’ for release Tuesday<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Well, my heart's in the Highlands at the break of day,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Over the hills and far away</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">There's a way to get there, and I'll figure it out somehow</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">But I'm already there in my mind</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And that's good enough for now</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8o269-sZ7-oCsAJnErJ_95Pp1a2RHqHmQtbOkbKMDmYi1wmY8IyfNs3GgT7FlbY2KZPwkENporj-QqF8WDn2oj73mbBAkMBdCvJoM_KcmavxuFaCY7vfv5uthQ76LBwvI-w-JJx4TVU/s200/dylan+claus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394340807962794898" border="0" />Christmas is a good two months away, but already Jack Frost is nipping at our nose…or ears, as the case will be this Tuesday when Bob Dylan, producing under one of his favorite pseudonyms, releases his first Christmas album.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 84px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoE6wsrK9DJPkM4Z8e0s63lgFVAAvCwR0Mu0-MMzvsaSiKZKqt-KtgYT8ilU1uObcgAp5g042mUX-jHhr7hJJsK0Gf-liDPw1CYiK1whC4jOP9FN4r8Ly71XOshs6T2ItLJhY3EPVJL3Q/s200/Phil+Spector+Xmas.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394341008779435442" border="0" />Love it or loath it, Dylan's decision rip another page from the American songbook isn’t quite as out of place as one might expect. For just about as long as there have been Christmas albums, pop stars have perpetuated the longstanding yuletide tradition of recording holiday-themed discs. Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Phil Spector all have recorded Christmas albums. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYhmcqi3E8aHhqrFm6T7sZISM1EmzAKJZjjiBh1m1admzwonLePlQo6Ct9Rb_8jrH4RzxtJvWxteI8bk-29oouV9m2TR3YQZZl6NLIh5ebXZw8u1drlUkTuqcYcWgZcvs7g3oK9LeP3Y/s200/nd_cherry_xmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394341167150032098" border="0" />In fact, Diamond’s second helping of Christmas cheer, <span style="font-style: italic;">A Cherry, Cherry Christmas</span>, will be released the same day as Dylan’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Christmas in the Heart</span>.<br /><br />So why have so many musicians, including those who don’t even celebrate Christmas, start roasting chestnuts over an open fire right around this time every year? The reason is simple: Christmas albums are cheap, easy to make and, if done right, they can result in a stocking stuffed with wads of cash. Dylan, however, isn't in it for the money. All royalties from <span style="font-style: italic;">Christmas in the Heart</span> are being earmarked for food banks in the U.S. and abroad.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHF54ABDV3Q1KOtm26TGP5xFHKnW8uj4w7yUQGkXc7ZzyimeDalpTq2OwJXIfHcYTY6ZuHLkRfTRdu_J8vkFUaNdVb19UNGVTyP_Vuc8xGvCB3HVOJTnF-BnHDRgyawhpsQ_YsKEfJeLE/s200/Heart_dylan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394341815158606354" border="0" />Of course, just because everyone from Burl Ives to the the Beach Boys have recorded an album chock full of Christmas classics certainly doesn't mean Dylan had to. Like many of us during the holiday season, he could have surreptitiously made a donation to his favorite charity and forgone the scrutiny this latest seasonal offering will inevitably stir.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 65px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3J987ZjvFah-JX2jJUK0Bzj21a44r3Dcf3vlap1xphmaUM218e_SoT8YU07ZLp8RaoOVlTkOlehpGGSINBDwnUn3UUYeylpIkEy2xFJuExh91ujGXGcxAReqkopEcZZ5fwQ6tG0ZRjQ/s200/bob-dylan+sebastian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394342000664209330" border="0" />But Dylan isn’t like the rest of us, and this isn’t the first—nor will it likely be the last—career move that will leave audiences and critics wondering what’s <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>going on behind those shades.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCwFaYIk2t-J7bVKEvvp7_6UogHiDZX-thnsqcSutSmw5HAYUWLtZh3UynqJftJ2r791N6fGTUqIMamB1cexXlw9GzYCxIQnrtNJDY43Seh9DpGcf4O_WBGTyMnZEaE1DQi2dB0Ey4Dw/s200/Dylan+saves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394456428422445170" border="0" />Over the last four and a half decades, Dylan has constantly reinvented himself, surprising his audience and critics alike. But of all his countless self-reinventions, his brief conversion to Christianity in 1979 has always been one of his most vexing.<br /><br />And while some of Dylan’s finest songs were written during <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 84px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnTUD6_apEiBKWc1knBdRpAxjKrk098enqcU9CBmuF5nnPSafYsvJrXbUw-YpxQA0YL2Uo2wvFtVHjDhAyS8JDGWtA8WcEOjPTSzIK2jhXb9CRinBIIUydeB25vLbwITaULIyTyyb4BE/s200/Picture1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394456899305647570" border="0" />that period—“Change My Way of Thinking,” “Every Grain of Sand,” “Pressing On” to name a few—the decision to replace the Star of David with a crucifix has long been a thorn in his side. If the early reviews are any indication, <span style="font-style: italic;">Christmas in the Heart</span> will likely have a similar effect.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUovTqihKqkPiVlK-R2GViXJpkZPh3V9Ud3yPCfxOjVGM9WxIQE0N79kfthUbMBdZ8l6NlI8tOiPV58g7lnH_G9MkreFlLlXWyCPShG3P__oEHX3wFD9oLqZXO5nr7ZXGtc-kZHOCAjM/s200/dylan2main-420x0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394343023339138514" border="0" />Not that the notoriously indifferent Dylan is losing any shlofn over it. His decision to record 15 of the most well known Christmas classics clearly is more influenced by altruistic reasons than artistic ones. And judging from the enthusiastic and playful tone that permeates the disc from beginning to end, Dylan seems to have thoroughly enjoyed making <span style="font-style: italic;">Christmas in the Heart</span>. Having said that, however, those who have heard the album can attest— not since Bing Crosby and David Bowie traded verses on “The Little Drummer Boy” on Crosby's 1977 network special has the Christmas spirit been rendered more surreal.<br /><br /><object height="250" width="375"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gKTHvW2JcAA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gKTHvW2JcAA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="250" width="375"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Bing Crosby and David Bowie duet on “Little Drummer Boy” circa 1977<br /></span><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 72px; height: 84px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pwYu1ZplmoMQ-Mj9WbkN81sGbnbg5l1cVL1K2XP8rnMTC2z7EXdWmWD9lTAxb_5RsV7UOEL2rEN-cNzX407z_LuIlqZpmc9yg_ADFtc8CGGHZCdyOVW-jFr7ibW7s1v6AF3JiTsAY8k/s200/george-gorgeous13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394344177811761650" border="0" />And while many of his detractors have asked why Dylan would even <span style="font-style: italic;">make</span> a Christmas album in the first place, if we just step back and take a look at the man in question, the answer seems self evident. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 71px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjg7cZeEd8jwhRiKV0uLbeVt2487Rb52b5tF7QxGcdFYETIn50niLhxUO2pJn4foYf41oPa2mKVlOw9qYExQPAq0yc5C1ohDuzXa8_MfMYpFgLcR_mbrLeKKon66lyR6kjKPjTKH7kNM/s200/tinytimmagazine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394344321954173298" border="0" />This <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> Bob Dylan we are talking about, after all — the same person who cited flamboyant wrestler, Gorgeous George, and über oddity, Tiny Tim, as two of his biggest inspirations.<br /><br />The real question, therefore, isn’t really so much whether listeners will embrace the new Dylan album as a holiday tradition or not. Truth be told, they probably won’t.<br /><br />But you just never know. Like so much with Dylan, the answer remains a mystery. And frankly, Dylan probably won’t want it any other way…<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">It must be a holiday, there's nobody around</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She studies me closely as I sit down</span>,<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8wLUgFGLSV_nw5-QJHkosgLxhC38JtuoX5U1KTa0qroW2cnM2AAx17XetrvVFXxxdkPkFRBRNihgC19DnjbCOAhC7OiTGxDe4jOkfhkkHRm4BuqZsjJ47aLs3nwgZ7uOzjYVq1FVJMQ/s200/up-bob_dylanLG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394344714899105010" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She got a pretty face and long white shiny legs</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She says, "What'll it be?"</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I say, "I don't know, you got any soft boiled eggs?"</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-3568097125704404932009-10-04T06:48:00.000-07:002009-10-19T08:55:23.342-07:00“Living Outside the Law”: Is Roman Polanski’s 32-year holiday over?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />She never stumbles,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />She's got no place to fall.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />She's nobody's child,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />The Law can't touch her at all.</span><br /><br />It’s taken 32 years, but the long arm of the law has finally caught up with Roman Polanski. Last week authorities in Switzerland arrested the infamous filmmaker as he arrived at the Zurich airport <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nRsgpITA1RqfrIukzyFPA_x54TPgdx9TdPCt1QsosRb0TZVhgg8zsu1ZcKVuEHw-U0-gS-l5TQ8TaHKM1-j3zGKRTPf8fgR9sGvDllZrbvkCRIjvDJ9209rsx92N9Qdhwn4IxFBSAKs/s200/alg_polanski.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390599775629370594" border="0" />en route to a lifetime achievement award. The arrest clears the way for Polanski’s possible extradition to the United States in connection with three-decade-old sex case involving a 13-year-old girl, a bag of Quaaludes, a couple bottles of booze and a hot tub in the basement of one of the silver screen's more notoriously lecherous leading men.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruuYMDINC36njDtMWJ0pNej0qzo9A-3QSDhzt1sXZ5Evoy06U6bVdZp-MJoEfLwo7J4G7GhcjPHWkn5vl3TdxA0ivsRyHxPhfhfl56sUn9dsZ8vGVCfdI0J0-qLj8VoXg_FCOOLWiIqI/s200/Polanski_judge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390600592148544418" border="0" />The drug addled evening resulted in Polanski being indicted on rape, child molesting and sodomy felony charges. But as salacious as the facts surrounding the case are, the act that has perhaps set off the most enduring indignation is what Polanski did next.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVebshnP5NHZL7jFOlHd3qwjVKh__3T0lqOYP9BfDnobtVR6rK7eaYHZKzC_UyGp5iMtDD4IKJEzuvZjZl0cuuaJoTjmC9CImflpyn15JGhNbqQnRvnqc-8E6r0z-L04ZAwazWfJ9RrM/s1600-h/roman_polanski_web.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVebshnP5NHZL7jFOlHd3qwjVKh__3T0lqOYP9BfDnobtVR6rK7eaYHZKzC_UyGp5iMtDD4IKJEzuvZjZl0cuuaJoTjmC9CImflpyn15JGhNbqQnRvnqc-8E6r0z-L04ZAwazWfJ9RrM/s200/roman_polanski_web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390601303649734802" border="0" /></a>Fearing the judge was planning to renege on a plea bargain deal that would result in Polanski going to prison, the director fled the country, effectively embarking on a 32-year rebuke of the American judicial system.<br /><br />As a result, Polanski has lived his life on the lamb for the last three decades, managing to remain just beyond the reach of the Los Angeles County district attorney’s office, who has never given up on bringing the dodgy director back to justice.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitn4YRCCqmoH-cGmnRtqj0b-tn7zTD4sTPDH_pDCVsBQuAE377NmUKHYR86gYC0vgqZXEj3-ijLYdTiy_78MciNK-RCfCiwAVdKvBpLGNa1eeFy4HFjhlNOqQjcKZUTvrVSLCHdKFcoEY/s200/TheFugitiveTitleCard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390601747635185794" border="0" />To hear Sandi Gibbons, a spokesperson for the DA’s office, describe it the pursuit of Polanski is not that far off from a plot line culled from the popular TV series, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fugitive</span>: “Any time word is received that Mr. Polanski is planning to be in a country that has an extradition treaty with the U.S., we go through diplomatic channels with the arrest warrant.” Unfortunately for Mr. Polanski, it would appear Switzerland has such a treaty.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmJo4btmk_WOY9rSgW4kGWEv5pqf7vOJAZb7KNOugV_0nJII2KGvjsFDuwPoHPGnphCIVe8XtwxsFrIsNUGrKs0x-beNlPMLXPagXkBSenCEDpj0VYaAkTRsjFhXsmQZm2oJv4JvrTqA/s200/passport_25_07_2007_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390602076082369650" border="0" />Polanski's unexpected detainment at the Zurich airport last week has re-ignited a firestorm around the controversial director. But in an ironic twist, the discussion has not centered on Mr. Polasnki's guilt, forgiveness by the victim, or even morals, for that matter. Instead, the issue at the center of this maelstrom revolves around something far more complicated: celebrity.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 77px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDCy6ZWknGtWWIgjTbVLTwJKnT53SLzISOkcy2X7PYMH8MZA9gjVTt8xP-m5Xr0aP1nfBSW1xckYL9Eh1ANQMW6WTjFNVuic1Jsp2vFChT3A9aArdnC-GFpQx1ZAdEUly8Kwt7uW3PqQ/s200/romanpolanskirs_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390602457074547106" border="0" />Long before committing the egregious act of forcibly sodomizing a 13-year-old girl, Hollywood was a staunch Polanski supporter. Even after Polanski <span style="font-style: italic;">admitted</span> to drugging and then raping Samantha Geimer, the 13-year-old ingénue in question, Hollywood remained firmly in Polanski's corner. In Hollywood, it seemed the <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh205E6wpPjU4H20OWQQ2G2P9mPrN5qfD6HkCslJ1jqCiczm-Z0aj3lNZuZ8hboRKENcVwJSJqWYZvUpx5QnqgSBx-6otlnosI0Ve9qnqgPyASmUnjf914KhUH0DvPgv9x_3vyi0m4GkZY/s200/polanski_geimer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390602697238408674" border="0" />paradigm of justice apparently was seen through a different prism: Ignore the act, put aside the judicial wrongdoings, and look at the real tribulation here— Mr. Polanski’s own tragedy-laden life.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwZ7h34rQ7bfU4wWF769bT6QlGNZJNCIPJXk4hrWLvI_JfBCjFP4cOwC9vMNT6ZDQCPAr2SBOcaFLpp_mHKGcECLyxYLAA66YdW9_fyciVhS3jph57GBw-yPO10mzQ32VfUvRyyQ7BIQ/s1600-h/Nordhausen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwZ7h34rQ7bfU4wWF769bT6QlGNZJNCIPJXk4hrWLvI_JfBCjFP4cOwC9vMNT6ZDQCPAr2SBOcaFLpp_mHKGcECLyxYLAA66YdW9_fyciVhS3jph57GBw-yPO10mzQ32VfUvRyyQ7BIQ/s200/Nordhausen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390603024535832530" border="0" /></a>Throughout his 1977 trial, Hollywood came out in droves to support the disgraced director. To them—and presumably to us—Mr. Polanski’s decision to flee only made sense. After all, how could a man whose family fell victim to the a<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOXU1_yxY2C2lgVySPs8ox_rOeYzB3FOH7UDT-x7pVURmKSArbH6FAtMvbkkPKfD6yyyo0MGtGEf0Kre2y3G-QSM6Qe0qENaWuj-B_zeuv12Ok5h4ERYxQpFxbtAASXU5c_xSgSmQ9e0/s1600-h/sharon-tate-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 107px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOXU1_yxY2C2lgVySPs8ox_rOeYzB3FOH7UDT-x7pVURmKSArbH6FAtMvbkkPKfD6yyyo0MGtGEf0Kre2y3G-QSM6Qe0qENaWuj-B_zeuv12Ok5h4ERYxQpFxbtAASXU5c_xSgSmQ9e0/s200/sharon-tate-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390603141247576914" border="0" /></a>nnihilating horrors of the Holocaust, a man cast as the primary suspect in the murder of his own wife— how could a man <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> wronged and maligned ever trust the legal system to give him a fair shake?<br /><br />Thirty-two years later, Hollywood has come out again. The list of supporters lending Polanski their support reads like the A-list from one of the town’s top talent agencies. And while dozens have come to Polanski’s defense, the comments of Miramax Chairman, Harvey Weinstein, and comedian, Whoopi Goldberg, were especially effusive.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 51px; height: 74px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPh7Jn1qSZc-KGgay72c-YCi-JqqHBMBWzaQgLZfrNgjowHpElfcvuRHzwiJabaQAKaiLLH65G-Aa9PUYm3VhXhyphenhyphenUFmP8NLbz0VgFKSk8TQ4tdExe5Gc1d_pzob3y-u1_HYNiP_HgPByo/s200/weinstein_22788t.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390603321709601410" border="0" />Upon hearing the latest chapter in Polanski’s ongoing personal morality play, Weinstein claimed: "Hollywood has the best moral compass, because it has compassion."<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 47px; height: 70px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKNXrVY04O-9prYNmAqOHxzcBC9iOpShJxrVT9W1wQcTYisA_YMEbN44iql3oxxb4GM34DK50yDAJcUvF2SUWwb67naAHYepHZjDEKLxBcv5s-zO_lc1y5aLfU2cO7iM80BH5rFgJZCw/s200/Whoopi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390603457732001138" border="0" />Ms. Goldberg did Weinstein one better when she rationalized Polanski’s actions this way: "I don't believe it was 'rape-rape'." Right, and when Whoopi was sexually molested at the age of 14 and decided to perform an abortion on herself with a coat hanger, she did that because she was only ‘a little bit pregnant.’<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 82px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfnLRvoSGJD9HVJlxFMU5_E-Y9BwF8i3sEmNIes4vVmq67rXYgUP_RdE4CVByMcliD7f-dWKV48s-qghHyz6gifVn_-5TszTYWn7B2xuqtkEwSiJCvR9COpKzcE_AqCTl3XuQ0APHcNY/s200/polanski.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390603831037034498" border="0" />There is no question artists are held to a different standard. Considering the fact they possesses an incredible, almost intangible ability to shine a light on the parts of our lives that bring us vast joy and immense pain, in all fairness, they have to a large part earned that distinction. But pointing to Polanski’s brilliance as a film director does not dismiss the fact he is a pedophile, a pariah and a fugitive from the law.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwEF0FVITh2QDZ0iZOLfUXCN7DVlgidLpglSGkXFJmsSDJl-kUa5GN_OwiJHWRP9Du497b631NsB9MZobQf_mSrDhickTm6q5DAz9alorwPd8NeR-UTMFbNiQuRjNT16tGXtQgsHR-DY/s1600-h/PolanskiIFFKV.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwEF0FVITh2QDZ0iZOLfUXCN7DVlgidLpglSGkXFJmsSDJl-kUa5GN_OwiJHWRP9Du497b631NsB9MZobQf_mSrDhickTm6q5DAz9alorwPd8NeR-UTMFbNiQuRjNT16tGXtQgsHR-DY/s200/PolanskiIFFKV.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390604306869022178" border="0" /></a>Yes, Polanski’s lived the high life for the last 32 years by being permitted to travel throughout Europe unfettered and undisturbed; yes, he was all but canonized by his cohorts in Hollywood in 2002 when they bestowed on him the Oscar for Best Picture for ‘The Piano’; and, yes, he <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> a genius— tortured, tormented and tirelessly beset by demons.<br /><br />And while Roman Polanski’s tormented past may explain his actions the night he lured a 13-year-old girl to Jack Nicholson's Hollywood hideaway home, drugged her, and then preceeded to commit one of the heinous crimes conceivable— it in no way justifies it. Even if he is an artist…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOW7IkI-FYZWuPyTZ6jz2WzG7qEFljsr_hArfZs-l1qjJfeBEP7VOv3U_B5hiTYAnB8xeqo9W2h9yYe-uZUufbbTQVPkuSHleoP-Ptgnpg_AcCDgKIekzJ87TGsG-5iUkDGyku-iXuUw4/s1600-h/Bob+dylan+painted.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOW7IkI-FYZWuPyTZ6jz2WzG7qEFljsr_hArfZs-l1qjJfeBEP7VOv3U_B5hiTYAnB8xeqo9W2h9yYe-uZUufbbTQVPkuSHleoP-Ptgnpg_AcCDgKIekzJ87TGsG-5iUkDGyku-iXuUw4/s200/Bob+dylan+painted.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390605256257093666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">She's got everything she needs,<br />She's an artist, she don't look back.<br />She can take the dark out of the nighttime<br />And paint the daytime black.</span></span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-28515069205595507702009-09-27T14:47:00.000-07:002009-10-09T07:28:52.970-07:00“Talkin’ Glenn Beck Paranoid Blues”: Leninists, Tyrants and Bolsheviks, Oh my!<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />Well, I was feelin' sad and feelin' blue,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I didn't know what in the world I was gonna do,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Them Communists they wus comin' around,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />They wus in the air,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />They wus on the ground.</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />They wouldn't gimme no peace. . .</span><br /><br />Dylan was right. It really <span style="font-style: italic;">doesn’t</span> take a <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFGuICOHVHn0fA_dBG7AZG7YLpNvZv6D-fsiXGXBxCxM1m3aLJ5ScZFxznl69YEiSLsmvJkQdblMuRC3uxWy7tza2t3rtX7VtU6z8U5xqsUBAmnFNNBT5q1aOxkRVUkZ2LzurEUcBXus/s1600-h/glenn_beck_time_cover_full.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFGuICOHVHn0fA_dBG7AZG7YLpNvZv6D-fsiXGXBxCxM1m3aLJ5ScZFxznl69YEiSLsmvJkQdblMuRC3uxWy7tza2t3rtX7VtU6z8U5xqsUBAmnFNNBT5q1aOxkRVUkZ2LzurEUcBXus/s200/glenn_beck_time_cover_full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387754292071139426" border="0" /></a>weatherman to tell which way the wind blows. Apparently, TIME magazine beats the age-old weathervane any day. Because regardless of how you feel about him, the man gracing the cover of this week’s TIME is the embodiment of America’s current temperament— divisive, paranoid and extremely pissed off.<br /><br />Like him or hate him, one thing is for sure: Glenn Beck certainly has a point of view. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 71px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBDV79oovsO9REAKHNW18LqJGj6ocRHtxBCcA2TVlt3JuDIfV9x7Y4mHpjI8I2PITeDtKWLrRiw0MVRg-SlaQ8uNuscwaBd1HgfOozW0GAgnTBS9GO-rS-p05EHTggU8ne_crwmdAQ44/s200/glenn+beck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387754500118539842" border="0" />And anyone who has listened to Beck’s syndicated radio show or watched his popular FOX news program knows he isn’t afraid to share it.<br /><br />Steeped in a reverential respect for the past and the lessons history teaches us about the perils of present day America, Beck’s ‘historical’ hysterics have become a staple of his daily diatribes.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjG32haulku65HApL1RBU5WVPk6xF0tKmcsufG9Sm7Bk6gGK9xqJz13H3QkOfcr_wzNhpGa7VC69ZmVtPD2R8zqoMvO2iYsG3_6Nry_hxQ4gRke_kxHmS3JvbaN0ncdZZUVkfgBb87UY/s200/Murrow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387755506475775906" border="0" />It probably wasn’t the intent of the editors of TIME magazine to embark on a journalistic jihad like the one instigated by Edward R. Morrow in the mid-50s when the fabled newsman went head-to-head with a certain sanctimonious junior senator from the state of Wisconsin. But intended or not, there is certainly a correlation connecting that self-promoting politician of a bygone era and this present day, ever-pontificating pundit.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE96K6CqVz8G15xG7jL08oJD3nq-BiTOWnmW7iMsg33nBoyyv3b5GCrpKWmP-Ih8eXMg5FywhKPVMp80mk1rdA-ZI6pj9LDBCQFBMbJT9qu-6BA_pFViJUxlOHCXwX-I_IJDWOtZI6wDs/s200/mccarthy1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387756308703208546" border="0" />And while the notoriously rabid Red-baiter wasn’t always the most forthcoming with the names of those who he claimed were out to destroy America, Glenn Beck doesn’t suffer from that same affliction. Glenn Beck’s “enemies of the state” list seems to be constantly growing, and Beck isn’t afraid to call them out.<br /><br />Just three weeks ago, Beck claimed his first victory in<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 88px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC9BTQ-HVBH3cNyZM4g-1JzEfLKwjwibDUzuptuWZfu7BD7Bw7lXl19PzPYGPBKXFScn8VilDZfx85Bjxzrsr91h3Q4STkWmmH9s5Gv4SQMjcPD3Igqji1kuVcVdsQtKNvrJeqc9gBYJY/s200/van+jones.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387756613505096978" border="0" /> his ongoing battle to purge the White House of ‘unsavory characters’ when he forced green jobs czar, Van Jones, to resign after branding the Obama confidante a communist and a radical.<br /><br />This past week, Beck further perfected the art of demagoguery when he used his bully pulpit<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeupg419l5uutWnd8jlgI_PC_pa3dCKXhPYaI1v9foc_6d9MwzK9m9mazJsnLF4WcaLxSwMk1dckmclMt5ZdA9YNFFwX8RdDlORimwKN-usXcNEBFOQO7Y8SsiHHWBl8yC0Q4UZ_ZJlQ/s200/0_61_320_092109_han_yosi_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387773797184193346" border="0" /> to oust Yosi Sergant from his position as Communications Director of the National Endowment for the Arts. Again, Beck led the charge after learning that Sergant hosted a conference call in which the four core areas of the Obama recovery program—health care, energy, environment and educational review—were allegedly promoted to a select group of liberal-learning artists. The presumption, and the central tenet of Beck's tirade, was that supporting the “Obama Agenda” through hip, urbane art would result in a big, fat check from the federal government.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-RMAk5U8M9dBEp3U-j_cVqYawgJhCpe941QKpWWXSTxrVTN6RNLnu4vh20JuThAB504zRzV-CIHp5GY2pJ_MDg1rW987Tmg9QtLcpb4l4ofsKJV47gUaE3W5PqKrEJ8Mvg6tzGBVD30s/s200/yosi-obama-kzo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387774140037020466" border="0" />The NEA has long been a target of the Right. And Beck’s indictment of Sergant’s involvement in the conference call certainly pulled no punches. And while Beck masterfully tapped into the growing sense of paranoia that is permeating this country, the fact that he actually raised several good points only made the story more menacing. A few of the more salient—<br /><br />• From the moment the story broke, the White House claimed it had limited knowledge of Sergant’s call. Yet Buffy Wicks, a ranking office in the White House Office of Public Engagement, was actually <span style="font-style: italic;">on</span> the call. So much for plausible deniability.<br /><br />• Shortly after Sergant tendered his resignation, it was revealed that the White House had actually scheduled a second conference call with a <span style="font-style: italic;">different</span> arts group. So much for Sergant’s claim that his actions were unilateral and without approval.<br /><br />• In a last-ditch effort to distance himself from the call, Sergant briefly claimed a third party by the name of the Corporation for National Service sent out the invitation. Yet when Michael Skolnick, the organization’s political director, has gone on the record that both the White House and the NEA asked him to bring the artist community together. So much for Sergant’s claim the NEA was merely a conduit for the call, rather than the impetus behind it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XuHVEETOXtlR-CENPP9Kc1rmYdADgr2kHPfg0pvRAzqYwov252giZxCRcSEKG08Uf1WvFGm_NBCAGXPifqHHgB-K1e6BgY1NJ6uj3CBG7LveAoaJ4UJzDbXHogY0V739LhNJq1mkWI4/s1600-h/aug-6th2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XuHVEETOXtlR-CENPP9Kc1rmYdADgr2kHPfg0pvRAzqYwov252giZxCRcSEKG08Uf1WvFGm_NBCAGXPifqHHgB-K1e6BgY1NJ6uj3CBG7LveAoaJ4UJzDbXHogY0V739LhNJq1mkWI4/s200/aug-6th2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387853580867323362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Exhibit A: Yosi Sargent's 'call' to action</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [click to enlarge]</span><br /><br />And lest it be overlooked, a principal factor in Sergant <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnWUNsBCefECFGRTFP977iPmJ8fm_p4nUUsLrBTD72SYsXSZkXQS1nn54wMs0x_LJpdU-UrPE34uJQWC1SZNzCSo1efu07Bk_J2dLc-ZwSzWSJzHDzrYfBUpjOMC-9bhmUwfod9h90I8/s200/yosi+obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387774401754966498" border="0" />even <span style="font-style: italic;">getting</span> the NEA job in the first place is due to the fact that he persuaded Shepard Fairey to create the iconic Obama HOPE poster during the 2008 campaign— precisely the type of artist-political agenda alliance he was allegedly promoting on the call in question.<br /><br />Considering the fact Yosi Sargent resigned just over a week after Beck’s allegation that the administration was using the NEA to effectively blackmail the artistic community into promoting the Obama agenda, there’s no question Beck struck a chord in a country already wracked with suspicion and mistrust.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPBpNgdtQE3eXnQRsLZn4DaUl2ohAeqVZHq8e1wHmp-WS28-jB_dar-20qMSsb3ECywoDP4546MFkNVqNIGCQoumZO-RREIaf5RtXreVzTc9bSuGkax5qUb64ivLarvANnNP4HZlts88/s200/Gibbs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387774946727647426" border="0" />The fact the best the White House could come up with in response to that charge was, “We regret any comments on the call that may have been misunderstood or troubled other participants. [A]nd we will take all steps necessary to ensure that there is no further cause for questions or concerns about that commitment,” hardly assuaged that suspicion.<br /><br />In baseball vernacular, Glenn Beck is batting a thousand. When it comes to his pitch to the American people that there are certain people in the government determined to destroy our way of life, he is two for two. But Beck best be careful.<br /><br />In his preface to breaking the Yosi Sargent story,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADeDsD8s4-EFZEZ1JL4Ms929EHhrRK4iWvcMBotUAwE38QZe_iHa04BFdCWxJSWFiGnNwZWLBjy8wjlLljFlSKPLhfFhToKiKws2WR7aowH4N9lBBXDTqk-7lJGvi9p7Nju_BWAbZ2Uc/s1600-h/Mccarthy+TIME.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADeDsD8s4-EFZEZ1JL4Ms929EHhrRK4iWvcMBotUAwE38QZe_iHa04BFdCWxJSWFiGnNwZWLBjy8wjlLljFlSKPLhfFhToKiKws2WR7aowH4N9lBBXDTqk-7lJGvi9p7Nju_BWAbZ2Uc/s200/Mccarthy+TIME.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387775135846999570" border="0" /></a> Beck alluded to his penchant for the past. But as any student of history will tell you, the past has a tendency to repeat itself.<br /><br />And despite his success—or perhaps <span style="font-style: italic;">because</span> if it—Glenn Beck is very close to assuming the mantle of another self-righteous demigod culled from one of America’s darkest chapters in American history...<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 107px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlP4p5VsiJeR14iClAqSKv3f93T9SUjM6oooQGBxeCCwHKX_vqvzV51b9kQ_K00vrrbRz10LP_jATZma25-7DcdrHFRUoIA7EidLlwtYFEEKy4eLuEhaIypPYFCfixow2DtH-PGYqeEQc/s200/dylan+look+out.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387775466504255042" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Well, I fin'ly started thinkin' straight</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">When I run outa things to investigate.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Couldn't imagine doin' anything else,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">So now I'm sittin' home investigatin' myself!</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hope I don't find out anything . . . hmm, great God!</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-9468438359481674482009-09-20T19:13:00.000-07:002009-10-01T16:21:38.390-07:00'Lawyers, Lepers & Crooks': Can Dylan's Thin Man trim the fat on Wall Street?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />You walk into the room</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />With your pencil in your hand</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />You see somebody naked</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />And you say, "Who is that </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">man?"</span><br /><br />Last week marked the one-year anniversary of the collapse of Lehman Brothers, the first in a series of dominoes that led to the biggest<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKPf-90cAJOxlFAOT6Dyta_2xN94Qdig1KFNunGzPc5W3hNcXTFNvgShF_MATTuz-3yN02tRynZh2GO78NCXFjG-6h9teM5owK47_WS1jVLW1vw7yO1qdpaZiW_7MxFsv3rh5tLeCoItM/s200/bankruptcy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385099735950195954" border="0" /> financial meltdown since the Great Depression. And while we're still reeling from the implosion of AIG, Merrill Lynch, Citigroup and the half dozen other ‘too big to fail’ financial institutions that <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> receive government bailout funds, the fleecing the American middle class continues.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 58px; height: 58px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FOnjeweoR0JusdBliajVMuW792qrgjdBwmj1jatwrtUzrKmTqYFTNoj2gjH9B-DKqFsZK1MEg1FoUntevnpRaScZu_M5KwDZ7veCE5Qzm3shbDTWyX7wAtvgHsxETp_7fosdqtqpUtI/s200/greed-city.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385099889274695522" border="0" />Something's happening on Wall Street, and you don’t have to be a financial whiz to know what it is: good, old fashion <span style="font-style: italic;">greed.</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00jdnf_Ezz6sezpxfHaK5QZgJskzuHP5F6viQYnfIH-ZTwPo0HVS1AyRhgsT9lM2y5bjQud35uTKOH2IbxTYu5oAFBollXWPqt7Kl8L_XarZHquus6-lMYkocBC8AbKfmXDrtnfqkFlE/s200/merrill-lynch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384854342198307794" border="0" />Despite the enormous losses suffered by the recipients of the TARP funds, Citigroup and Merrill Lynch—two of the most high-profile beneficiaries of the federal government’s fiscal benevolence—still managed to justify dishing out more than $9 billion in bonuses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4xU1bEvtFC0A1h7MJvY-ApGI9aPLjjCQD1WEbhhn7at-_Ldc3YUqZTv8eN5ViFksifpKuGAmybjU_3P_5FlxpHpcGVfn5xKEBCjEUiA7voaq7AAVxcj_T8lIDFc2acH912KvjINCntrs/s1600-h/081225_p7_color.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4xU1bEvtFC0A1h7MJvY-ApGI9aPLjjCQD1WEbhhn7at-_Ldc3YUqZTv8eN5ViFksifpKuGAmybjU_3P_5FlxpHpcGVfn5xKEBCjEUiA7voaq7AAVxcj_T8lIDFc2acH912KvjINCntrs/s200/081225_p7_color.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384854728162793234" border="0" /></a>And how’s this for fancy financial footwork? Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley and J.P. Morgan Chase actually paid out<span style="font-style: italic;"> more</span> in bonuses than they made the entire year. Goldman Sachs, for example, earned $2.3 billion, paid out $4.8 billion in bonuses, and got $10 billion in TARP funds.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFP39aQQLsmPFJbofozPisZKRd_CjmzzuO7Y1bWkb-r28GCoGpATUSaBiqv8WFwd78vveSDTLkqfK5j-J7BBioQIwfDpIrMwXAmQTYVB5QlnBj7woAhPy3EEUpn4lri6h7vR7ZScMARs/s200/OPM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384855203865634962" border="0" />It’s no secret the big Wall Street firms conspire and collude to keep their year-end cash outs at the highest levels possible. But it’s one thing when you’re playing with ‘other people’s money’; it’s something else entirely when that ‘other person’ turns out to be the guy next door who just lost his house.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxf9YbrMkCxt_pRUcfHgjKw96-o8bpnZE1zmYaJRQNgg6vOCvO_fC-F1RljtMBIvmVWJZzS2muXCLjfhl60cM1XBLA2RazOeI26R4AThSISHtNDd5C7itby6-kRZuhZT8hy7jNWu4tNo/s200/2009_07_nobanker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384856242490108994" border="0" />But it gets worse. Not only did 4,800 Wall Street employees pocket bonuses worth more than a $1 million<span style="font-style: italic;"> on top of</span> their exorbitant salaries, it turns out it wasn’t enough. According to a recent survey, 46% of those newly-minted millionaires were “dissatisfied” with their bonuses. And are you ready for the kicker? Nine in 10 had been working on Wall Street for five years or less.<br /><br />And while none of our behemoth banking institutions were <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjtYIHwr-fNlF8Vs76EmCCHGCRIBtrNT3n0MW4Un300Szt29MBSQ3bN0vz3iuPhWX22FANzwNIHEy2lNF2kDLbJC5hFIuxiKeQMH-XDlCnlLObLJH5oRZTQ85uZVMpYHADv22vMFHvz8/s1600-h/bailout.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjtYIHwr-fNlF8Vs76EmCCHGCRIBtrNT3n0MW4Un300Szt29MBSQ3bN0vz3iuPhWX22FANzwNIHEy2lNF2kDLbJC5hFIuxiKeQMH-XDlCnlLObLJH5oRZTQ85uZVMpYHADv22vMFHvz8/s200/bailout.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385078563422550514" border="0" /></a>untouched by what, in hindsight, amounted to the financial equivalent of a 'perfect storm,' last week's reminder that the government was unwilling to bailout Lehman Brothers was a frightening reminder of how choppy the seas still are.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfCIE9ZfqQTslnFI2TTu2osvPTk8Po2hTubJXtefv8Z-JGsGQkwM7pOfdihxgieX0Y8ugrEFcfljeS_rZ9BOSM64UlecXWsSChP9k68pGql7FObMu5Ft9AhEiwiSVA9m0HylstCV_q-9A/s200/pelosi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384857127763536082" border="0" />It should hardly come as a surprise that Congress would capitalize on this rather auspicious anniversary to turn the spotlight not on the problem, but rather on themselves— which is precisely what they did in typical grandstanding fashion.<br /><br />Positioned as the first piece of a larger, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 63px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijph5Qu5hL5i5u4e8hblG2I0UURqTxTL0vD_iQXHfgMiD0F5O-uIwAnNkGJdLSV4hjI8dCCTwXd3gY8zXLNDIEKR6sGNrfwSEpaTITjSqWBoioUjfSssbLXU750Fs0khmRqq43xDrySKk/s200/r-obama-wall-street-huge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384857657504389074" border="0" />more comprehensive legislation endorsed by President Obama to increase oversight over financial institutions, last week the House voted on a bill that will restrict how Wall Street executives will get paid in the future.<br /><br />Billed as a ‘bold, decisive action,’ the reality couldn't be further from the truth. Unless, of course, the old expression, “A day late and a dollar short,” is modified by roughly 365 days and somewhere around $700 billion.<br /><br />Enter Ben Bernanke. Recently nominated to a second term as Chairman of the Federal Reserve, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6z5Q4W8vHyLC1V8sTbP5DTH6dSPZbnFWpJWWdxX7dFw5YDpV3WzcCU4-v1v26ZJwUK-nxaPAZ5nOTjXQEgvfTiMaTdagRtiqMDwQYX-9lTlSfKLlq5iLzmxIXPAuM6Bb6wOvsUcK-eQ/s200/09-06-25-Bernanke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384857872120669602" border="0" />Bernanke is preparing to cash in a little currency with the president by sidestepping the Congressional pomp and circumstance altogether. Bernanke's plan is refreshing simple: take Wall Street’s bull market by the balls by placing regulators directly inside banks to monitor (and one would assume reject) excess pay packages.<br /><br />And while the precise job description has yet to be fully fleshed out, this disgruntled Dylanologist knows just the man for the job.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 79px; height: 79px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZPbgtOBs34omY_2wQYtGySaa3h4rqTOwymIjnxFgmSLqqsGQ90Yd_ri_8EnJ2_PRftfNSkG6xt23s_N6tQrg7ml_1JiAJNY8h32VplNryso472sDhyeE3QjvvEBu7UWrpP4roQ7e5to/s200/mystman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384858954015220658" border="0" />Dark, menacing, boorish and brooding, he is one of the most enigmatic characters from Dylan's canon of bizarre and none-too-usual suspects.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 83px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SNUfHCt8bN7e0eDI8D_QTyP9pM1afB379SUFOyuxe8HOgwWD3rAntVdYY44ohQQ7cCi6BSAk2Clacx58y5HgbZl_q9i70_rZXRhRskw-5KLs9IXJBj2_AIn_6rI9V36EDKRk1yZ8TYA/s200/Dylan+conference.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384859491494145458" border="0" />His identity has long been in dispute. When asked in a 1965 interview, Dylan offered a response that was as cryptic as the character in question: “He's a pinboy. He also wears suspenders. He's a real person. You know him, but not by that name…”<br /><br />The president is on the right track introducing regulatory reform for Wall Street. But identifying the problem won’t necessarily solve it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2OSYqCtAziYdaZtTmN1Qub_rGSrjl7DrbBPoLJ0B9N4KXSfDENGsnq4qTCweqtzOMo47Roz7ldSUiC1wL47YIKsLq0Q14dT5uQZn8Lb1Yk3JyOWJi45PyqerB7PiysoAzhFTLkWfciM/s1600-h/den_of_thieves.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 82px; height: 70px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2OSYqCtAziYdaZtTmN1Qub_rGSrjl7DrbBPoLJ0B9N4KXSfDENGsnq4qTCweqtzOMo47Roz7ldSUiC1wL47YIKsLq0Q14dT5uQZn8Lb1Yk3JyOWJi45PyqerB7PiysoAzhFTLkWfciM/s200/den_of_thieves.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384861482696029554" border="0" /></a>What we need is someone who’s well connected, someone who can move effortlessly among lawyers, lepers and crooks. Someone who will keep his eyes in his pocket, his nose to the ground, take copious notes, click his heels and do exactly as he is told. We need a man on the inside looking out; not outside looking in.<br /><br />And who exactly is this inscrutable urchin? This puzzling patsy set up <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHA5gOZTxoJT3YyoVyqwVEcXjxvwgkAzHxwRjNwXfNhlQsDCP1tkcjUo-9qyaFZW7CnKTGczXxD-ttNEpKBNbCtS4E00yxe4qAW3JF4e5OPHKNKy8UcnTDzloXuSMXr77vPzcocYWJE0/s1600-h/yerblues.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 167px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHA5gOZTxoJT3YyoVyqwVEcXjxvwgkAzHxwRjNwXfNhlQsDCP1tkcjUo-9qyaFZW7CnKTGczXxD-ttNEpKBNbCtS4E00yxe4qAW3JF4e5OPHKNKy8UcnTDzloXuSMXr77vPzcocYWJE0/s200/yerblues.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384861729344562802" border="0" /></a>to take the inevitable fall?<br /><br />Let’s just say his eerie, shape-shifting presence made John Lennon feel suicidal, evoked Adam Durtiz’s desire to be someone else, reduced David Byrne’s description to a detached third person account.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 74px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNFqK7W7DnG7gjS7rSnX90RHJrxyyFZa4i4ukX2MzcDJGbslEeNMlMSrKxcVakEWvMRfYcFw5m1je611Af1Bzyw0Xvlbaw-C-1CJL9uDwdSp3LoSKlDtfvBoCNNE6FeE9GqYiswNVdZIs/s200/414KM0B8HKL__SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384862455720767362" border="0" />That’s right, Dylan aficionados, it just may be the man who saves the American financial system is none other than the inscrutable Mister Jones.<br /><br />After all, everyone knows the best way to catch someone with questionable morals is to recruit one...<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHPzHK_YCOyFRT0zg6pf4jy8ZQSyZTR_ZfsMwAVi9RAtrvtoIfFzCF7cPwa7_0ZAz5kVSDvnaJb4BRkKRfMKwbyDrZ3owEH2JdD49LOf6Y-OAnjuJqkKrOvgJVC26Bunlt_NU1RS_ZzQ/s200/million+dollar+bash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384864188751953250" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And without further notice</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />He asks you how it feels</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />And he says, "Here is your throat back</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Thanks for the loan"</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-84674566950720555542009-09-13T16:14:00.000-07:002009-09-24T10:44:24.012-07:00‘Shot of Love’: Joe Wilson or Barack Obama— who’s the real Judas in this Dylanesque smack down?<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Don't need a shot of heroin to kill my disease,<br />Don't need a shot of turpentine, only bring me to my knees,<br />Don't need a shot of codeine to help me to repent,<br />Don't need a shot of whiskey, help me be president.<br /></span><br />It’s been a brutal summer for health care. Yet despite the barrage of lawyers, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAjq3eIod0s3Rd3qpmPfTwyVn9bnLmwLS2Rl10FuiWomrmMeDS6pJvSOFGrqVD4c0yOb39EfZ_rJFnc2VgRStUo7GKPC9zKFdpcnVIOrvjsBz0cCAnUS1r1YibhyS_bJZOSgd7BhCIdw/s200/health-care-protest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381475133777359154" border="0" />guns and money that have been thrown atop this increasingly combustible pyre, the debate rages on.<br /><br />At the center of that debate is Barack Obama, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjen5YHsrRbhPN0Q9xXFirZYe-K1HRdt-kfhofVInFRG76BMzXpFXd9Yh7TiT-Q84ew-D08OnlkbWuXSTwBObU4aRAle7QWIWpZGbw1ihrvxA8g7ZaafVzl1nEllCtAjoxzNTIh3H2goDg/s200/obama-sotuish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381475423960971666" border="0" />the man whose central campaign plank in the recent presidential election was to bring affordable health care to all Americans. Judging from amount of animosity the discussion has engendered, if anyone needs a shot of love right now it's Barack Obama.<br /><br />Appearing before a joint session of Congress last Wednesday, President Obama laid out his case for universal health care. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfxol62KOixg6RoC_wsr9cCqpGlHjG_iXsN0U5yQUcMWHbBsxXUbwVtI_41ToN6ybUx7TBeMpI50Nn26mnfb_1dI83pIGc01q6UkelligXbh2bULOfzyRHXJA-qbReYqE6_IklYyQsa8/s200/t1wide_obama_12_afp_gi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381475596346393138" border="0" />It was the first time the country has had an opportunity to hear the president get into the nuts and bolts of his proposal. And considering it very well may be his last, there’s little question Obama chose his words with infinite precision.<br /><br />The same, however, cannot be said for Joe Wilson, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJfFgIxxQDSt3425Ap1hwfPjPMxKlJPgAeVsck4ov2RkaSMNf58_Md9NuBbfEHgKDN4bHNZyvM24hpVfpzwmUiTko8R73HFQcAwavjIUQd2CZmv4VXivO4ANXuXtqsPq0XT_zvjn6OdA/s200/art.joe.wilson.heckling.gi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381475762452797730" border="0" />the Republican Congressman from South Carolina, who impetuously yelled “You Lie!” when Obama said extending health care to all Americans would exclude the insuring of illegal immigrants.<br /><br />And while Wilson’s contempt for Obama may have caught America by surprise, those diligent Dylan fans in observance were struck by something else <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBVZ0rtINrZzYNUL8cpVMrxM8iFn77hm532kqP_styoVra6j3wOuMWzpCKaHnTY_3_7b_xdkjVU1GZR3qz6T9cAs3XwhfbjSsQ3h1OOH_e_bmjHa9byVjzf4lpY7-d5BkzG0JSvH8R-o/s200/024kiss3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381475974440931106" border="0" />entirely— the eerie resemblance to the infamous 1966 concert in Manchester, England, at which a disgruntled folk fan called Dylan, “Judas!” for 'betraying' the movement.<br /><br />And while Keith Butler’s comment certainly struck a chord in the otherwise unflappable singer, Dylan’s indignant, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqs-6Lwk5bSxOBwgLs1_wJvlC-n0SNv-yMoKl0PuOMt8QcQm7EE_C5pJ6RApgumPfXXBl2jKsDwUxnxm7nsykDUD5JVYn6TR4Fwrx4dozYc67EMio8Pq6VRqDrqRB46lUjcNg8KzsxZ4/s200/butlerkeith.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381476237985756130" border="0" />ireful response was pitch perfect— “I don’t believe you. You’re a LIAR!!” he snarled before quickly turning to The Hawks and defiantly instructed them to "Play fucking loud!"<br /><br />It was in that moment that the folk singer became a rock icon.<br /><br /><object height="300" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u2MgdF6GWi0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u2MgdF6GWi0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">A disgruntled fan calls Dylan ‘Judas!’ at a 1966 concert in Manchester, England</span><br /></span><br />In the aftermath of last Wednesday’s incident, the press has had a field day. Sadly, however, the debate over health care has gotten lost in the weeds.<br /><br />Perhaps this was Wilson’s plan all along. As a former immigration lawyer, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-nan53UGeBU2yt7n7WkYtlfiWK5m7_L_CUEwrQup3fo4Jws4q82PP-N21GZubVcT6_CKinW82_ofaebbVTS_Vfr1Rkm4Q5VuS8Ra8PHvRzogI9Qgqp38gRh8Ll2Np3G1sHjyMVd9k5h0/s200/illegal_immigration.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381476542024629282" border="0" />Wilson knows all too well that while the president’s bill expressly forbids insuring those who are in this country illegally, just because illegal aliens don’t <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> a health care option available to them doesn’t preclude their employers from purchasing it for them—driving up the costs for <span style="font-style: italic;">all</span> Americans.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg5B-lB8SYTcNkjJhK8px3HswzOSfG7jt7JRvvmNE_epXBoxPwQaU1l8cf6UhB-jJH77YMyO0FLNpLF06UiZVM2xSIzp6VXoULQqjeysLPXjMQ4_3t4MLVfxw6ueiRbYeDlreElZgG-T0/s200/JudasKiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381476916265430146" border="0" />But by vilifying Wilson in the press—effectively casting the South Carolina congressman as Judas—we have all been misled.<br /><br />In the end, it just may be Obama—not Joe Wilson—who ends up playing the role Judas as a result of this unfortunate incident.<br /><br /><object height="300" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rw9lQT1Ark4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rw9lQT1Ark4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Joe Wilson calls President Obama a ‘liar’ on the floor of Congress</span><br /><br />Our 9-month love affair with the poised 44th President of the United States <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 84px; height: 119px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF0z6x-qdjYG5JeqQjyvkwxQyOxkZlZc99NxRA2uIi0Tv4gpAhLBoFUmJ2fl3hxlJ2VktMymSoSvZzR-ZBaBx7qTfNLI0-WicdpXpnwYiTXXfITOpRMwvy4ki9bM2lEoYsntVg-b81ns/s200/obama_love_affair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381477376385295650" border="0" />has made us susceptible, vulnerable and over-trusting, not only of him personally, but it has forced us to turn a blind eye to the lurking, malevolent agenda of those who will soon be an integral part of the larger health care debate.<br /><br />Obama very well may have the best interest of the millions of uninsured Americans in this country. The <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8H42eHM0aWkHIuhD7OipdNWAkctOOne3ZzTLepb_G6i2s-z45t8WFP7NxJ5-EFWriq2-JsLSu5beTVJ6-C3tAoSZTORKrrdQ9rljdoAxtAcQeWqxXczInjr3nNV_HwEZl808ag9ApXY/s200/brue-gethsemane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381501006753781906" border="0" />vultures, however, are circling. And the moment we give Barack Obama the unconditional love he so desperately craves by passing his legislation without thoroughly vetting it, the insurance companies, the pharmaceutical companies and the malpractice lawyers will descend on us like the Roman guards in the Garden of Gethsemane.<br /><br />Joe Wilson may no longer have a <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIovzKZaqMojpiJO81tIo3c2JXSCV-4yIr7dK0C8WWCtAjSs7iLdI7TEst0bmhdcongkT6WaGGZM_M29HBGwOqrJopQ0RajjYoi5Krf56IcILLSTKx9b-qlbP2SvLKqhFtx2wAnzflJGk/s1600-h/WS080728NewsweekObama480.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIovzKZaqMojpiJO81tIo3c2JXSCV-4yIr7dK0C8WWCtAjSs7iLdI7TEst0bmhdcongkT6WaGGZM_M29HBGwOqrJopQ0RajjYoi5Krf56IcILLSTKx9b-qlbP2SvLKqhFtx2wAnzflJGk/s200/WS080728NewsweekObama480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381478057540233970" border="0" /></a>place at the table as a result of his ruefully inappropriate comment. His ‘betrayal’ of the president, however, has taught us all a valuable lesson:<br /><br />It’s one thing to admire the men and women who lead us; falling in love with them is, however, the kiss of death…<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Doctor, can you hear me? I need some Medicaid.</span><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 97px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6YthLF62dghoshvQEe7vh3aavKZYH9RxINNusb0QJJ2kUKHzcv1Q1mV7zvOhWJnPm7eD6PWrRytQ5JEX5V9hkq_35huheXr7Qqrb_3ZKThYdy_EHYoMiM6fzN3QqHskT27xXj_1RJlE/s200/mojoschatzberg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381478278816240466" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I seen the kingdoms of the world and it's makin' me feel afraid.<br />What I got ain't painful, it's just bound to kill me dead<br />Like the men that followed Jesus when they put a price upon His head.<br />I need a shot of love, I need a shot of love.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-19350160162520965072009-08-30T20:15:00.000-07:002009-09-14T17:23:55.664-07:00‘Let Me Die In my Footsteps’: Ted Kennedy steps out from his brothers’ shadow<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />The meaning of the life has been lost in the wind<br />And some people thinkin' that the end is close by<br />"Stead of learnin' to live they are learning to die.<br />Let me die in my footsteps<br />Before I go down under the ground.</span><br /><br />Of Rose and Joe Kennedy’s nine children, only three were ever truly destined for greatness. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3o1uk1GMnYPoxaITqSScvSolhnWvLQu-QubPWMejaPBDOhIytz6RW1NEqllh-c4lDgwuQSysGyt7gUSOX2QN4qg-fFkmZV0LedFEP6Hv_BCGBmBGh1HDDSrAZjPCNzYAvj1vv1CLhGJg/s200/Kennedy+Clan+photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378189915623037042" border="0" />But with the death of Joe, Jr., the chosen child lost at sea in 1944, and the senseless slaying of John in 1963, and then brother Bobby five years later at the hand of an assassin’s bullet, the mantle of greatness was laid at the feet of the most unsuspecting Kennedy.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 43px; height: 61px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_IvM1NJkMhtafs2OmeeR6amZrz1tWWocbv0zVBfENYOIYkFTtmcOrRYV9BSfTSiDw9AUVK56uhhm4Y4bMBlPXdeWOLTiBdXad_laokaW93DEgChlMSx5ScQ3NryvXcLrqJgAhlfT5f0/s200/ted-kennedy-book.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378192438684129874" border="0" />And while few had expected great things of him, he ended up surprising them all. In fact, he probably even surprised himself.<br /><br />After the death of his more charming, more charismatic brothers, the last remaining son of Rose and Joe Kennedy could have retreated<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsAFr-jQGr4k7obk1YIm8N7VdnYXGT9Um-fOfRLr4SgyKu7K4fX0-_h0yvG9KcBDLyPEbsypZCN5fl-cIWV0mqwJ9uqm2NDRSn_8RwbKtToL8tdk1-xB16d0JziMh77jlyeSt_Y_qR89g/s200/kennedybrothers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378190242733816770" border="0" /> behind the whitewashed, perfectly mended fences of Hyannis Port. Instead, he stayed in Washington, staked his ground and found redemption by extending a hand to save those who—not unlike himself at the time—could just as easily have fallen through the cracks.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm68YfAQiAqyNnRPCky_399I4IVaquwQxUT5f4QQKPmu0yO5dQY_hHbyAM4nrx2xurejj6GycMFyTsAI_RNcGzT4DMbr7sCq0XXGl0EdQqYLryx0SI411BLsZETKAXGaWxUf7ZeFjTyVM/s200/Chappaquiddick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378190804208604354" border="0" />Without question, Ted Kennedy was a complex and conflicted soul— a rake, a womanizer, a drinker, a man who will forever be tainted by the names Mary Jo Kopechne, William Kennedy Smith and Michelle Cassone. But <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKca7y_thqrL0IQL0Q06JHil5O-MpfL3KiJG_FXoVx0oxXLTqTBdooF9lIqTv_UXOzwoFokvkMLLCQ5MYLWQgkDtt3n8QXquza5NBGLyNw5hgTZ7285VSLoRAtz1u5jx6evg546fnylME/s200/us_senator_ted_kennedy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378191189273899746" border="0" />over the course of his half century in the US Senate, Kennedy by-and-large abandoned his aberrant ways and developed into a skilled politician; a child of privilege who became the trusted guardian of the poor, the oppressed, and forgotten.<br /><br />Ted Kennedy stood up for those who could not stand <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SSeliZOJpZ7-iVVr0tBtA_-K5WbgrWnH5uBtOifR1FDxWClPovJDi2OCOVy96i0Uh4DIMoTzm5tyUNFG4GnmmFBq0YqeEiEN0vFqIav8lDEiOfIOdcGGm5waLjpgW-h7rR5GxCV_k0o/s1600-h/catcher.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SSeliZOJpZ7-iVVr0tBtA_-K5WbgrWnH5uBtOifR1FDxWClPovJDi2OCOVy96i0Uh4DIMoTzm5tyUNFG4GnmmFBq0YqeEiEN0vFqIav8lDEiOfIOdcGGm5waLjpgW-h7rR5GxCV_k0o/s200/catcher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379611639980414306" border="0" /></a>up for themselves. Like the misunderstood, eternally misplaced Holden Caulfield, Ted Kennedy could always be counted on to stand at the edge of cliff and catch those who needed a helping hand before they disappeared into the abyss.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aKo8wClgUAGnhcEJUgI0A70G3wGE6oEx6-sfejs7mNEIgRX8wm07R1Q2d_yKW1mYH4AOXHIscd6G39MuvZi6HA13OfQ6gFmqbJ2C56iTiv3coocv-UA6iiPKY5GFg9iEviafvbT9B74/s1600-h/ted_kennedy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 93px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aKo8wClgUAGnhcEJUgI0A70G3wGE6oEx6-sfejs7mNEIgRX8wm07R1Q2d_yKW1mYH4AOXHIscd6G39MuvZi6HA13OfQ6gFmqbJ2C56iTiv3coocv-UA6iiPKY5GFg9iEviafvbT9B74/s200/ted_kennedy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378191529269333298" border="0" /></a>In addition to being a defender of the underprivileged, he was also an adept deal-maker; a man who made things happen. And if the was one thing Ted Kennedy wanted to make happen in his lifetime it was assuring affordable healthcare for all American citizens.<br /><br />If there is any question that Kennedy’s passion for healthcare reform was simple political posturing, simply watch his speech at the 1978 Democratic Mid-election Conference. Kennedy’s impassioned plea is on par with any of the better-known speeches made by either of his two better-known brothers.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1G6fof-_Mc&hl=en&fs=1&start=53"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a1G6fof-_Mc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >Kennedy's impassioned plea for healthcare reform at the 1978 Democratic Mid-election Conference</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span>Moments after the announcement that Ted Kennedy had succumbed to his bout with brain cancer, the following made its way across the popular social media sites:<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">In lieu of flowers, pass health care reform." </span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 106px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAIzAF3gNWHe6KC168J1CIhHWPRNPFKOUQhrvDQGyIWZ1hPZ_UngpmJlHnhRSDfSkX5Afc-5JQw_2DluYTmm30wB7pxPJaMyZXTJ2V7bJUoxT59Cv9Tgyi-HBGSFwDXMXEbr3Ora1mEjc/s200/twitter-hashclouds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378191903157620626" border="0" />It’s quaint, it’s cute, it’s unquestionable heartfelt. And in the hours immediately following the news of Ted Kennedy’s death, it was the most re-twitted message on the internet.<br /><br />And while it would be expected that liberal-leaning <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 42px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWUIzLszwEI7WLTHVF8PCF3HUgD3nOMXRSuIQOHDOVP6szzY4RlCPd7T8UfCxpTCHHTHqjPncQz4DcHCdds4RmnS7QfLThAey5Q7mxh06G5f7W7O4nkkwcDdfJvq0aBxRPBUV0ovbdTEQ/s200/news_with_brian_williams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378192147173875298" border="0" />sites like ‘Political Packrat’ and ‘Radio KOS’ would jumped on the propaganda bandwagon, it was surprising that NBC Evening News anchor, Brian Williams, bought into the transparent ploy. But that’s precisely what happened last week when he, too, repeated the 8-word mantra as a way to remember Kennedy.<br /><br />The irony, of course, is that Senator Kennedy would <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN55uVBEhT9bsnLzKp5yCtLQpKqAwCSxplTzWGACkPzxcTOsCGzLG1QK7JAvbHz2_12r8RoqTxkUdCe9-PuwUYivdH1bITXtTOGAtQZYOUBr3uGmcibSooitzYARH4cvM6YrDavfMA3G0/s200/CivilRights+1964.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378192803604398402" border="0" />have reveled in the shameless use of his name to advance healthcare reform. After all, not a week had passed after the assassination of President Kennedy before Ted took to the airwaves to tell a nation that passage the pending Civil Rights legislation would be a fitting way to remember his brother's untimely passing.<br /><br />The tactic worked. On July 2, 1964, President Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 into law.<br /><br />But whatever role the unabashed evocation<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcAI93SoyJbvMZxhdX-JD3eYv2Ojkgm8hGCtHgTmUXmFSbyXg1v3nKiZvtQEJbS8NdPWyiuur7dzzKXngah3u2BbmaCUywhv43oOQD1y2aeH7oQtaJw576Yx7QkKaFTw2TbnHQeYDCwk/s200/Kennedy+Brothers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378193572398310530" border="0" /> of the fourth fallen Kennedy's memory plays in the looming debate over the president’s pending healthcare reform, Ted Kennedy can finally rest in peace knowing that he has finally stepped out from behind the long shadow cast by his more formidable brothers.<br /><br />John and Robert Kennedy were two of the <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTU1bXApyHPUgoJgT8uVZM_tmONv3doKPmTSXewAJm9b18Nj845w3hUcDPaM1rnax0rKBIZIfh1slhUQ2d2oJIDtxaKvhLf-7oBTLR_9VdyKVaNaSGjJ4WwGbWx2SAyCtJAMlwZ_aV74/s200/kennedy-415x390.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378193770045245202" border="0" />most exciting and vibrant politicians of the modern era. But after tolling in the trenches for an issue for close to 47 years (longer, it turns out, than either of his brothers lived) maybe the real takeaway here is that in the end endurance and experience can trump youth and vigor.<br /><br />It’s not out of the question. Just ask the man behind the never-ending tour. At this pace, he'll likely outlast them all…<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Go out in your country where the land meets the sun</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">See the craters and the canyons where the waterfalls run</span><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx33XIosYD_kZLUfFbHE0L-TkItcMInrSKWkUL3eu5pL6aqdYrRsA3knsukB6_DKz6pjCe-zQtpYPIHQg2dEojPnUw5F8BnYV-uZclUhhruVlmfZxjRZ4E8IhYPu_Jdo_aR8Yx2ULSuqk/s200/bob01-19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378193908049001410" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona, Idaho</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Let every state in this union seep in your souls.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">And you'll die in your footsteps</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Before you go down under the ground.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-44680338188761558512009-08-23T12:27:00.000-07:002009-09-06T10:46:30.296-07:00‘Time Passes Slowly’: Dylan, Obama distance themselves from Woodstock<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">We sit beside bridges and walk beside fountains,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Catch the wild fishes that float through the stream,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Time pas</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">ses slowly when you're lost in a dream.</span><br /><br />Over the past few weeks, there have been <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 163px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgew1fHuYKege-VFJCAOYRU_OolatmEJWXU66rTX8X1QFJ2IimxxQ1TWJ15cQMkW5KMee0TrnKIvU1mdoZk4Ixfe1qxpdDW6uAkhnnIsvInwd3pjGU2iRQa7ZqCv1wLCwu7SgdzjzGnfAc/s200/woodstock_csg022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375414382093476322" border="0" />no shortage of articles written about the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. And certainly one of the most interesting is Jon Pareles’ story that appeared in Sunday’s New York <span style="font-style: italic;">Times</span> two weeks ago.<br /><br />Ironically, what made the article so striking wasn’t so much <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5fKze1ZjN2eH4M6TpJV83xLYMU6X6eMUDRWJDGld1vNXUTGG8SO2uscBM4E2Dvcmi0JUOzkGAfug9MZY7iNPKvzrG0vPlOqxx-bnB4He5eZW-CVuidKCbS53JyaAhfy6nAkKX7t1Xvg/s200/ObamaNation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375416598054856962" border="0" />what <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> said about the Woodstock generation of 1969; it’s what <span style="font-style: italic;">wasn’t</span> said about the Obama Nation of 2009. As Pareles observes: “Woodstock was as much an endpoint as a beginning, a holiday of naïveté and dumb luck before the realities of capitalism resumed.”<br /><br />And while he draw no direct parallels drawn<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 87px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJOxm7q300xxNy2e7V2Jxaxj6tK8I_GjeWBF7npXx6lrVPt5KOy2050KXDAAUrqyqjmMyOFJR-RZWYafIPU3_RUa61gSfB9wxejyIq46NmtmUnrRBavopoiarw3PCG78lEfAQe1vz7K9g/s200/Obama+Mall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375418094355118386" border="0" /> between the 400,000 people who went up the country 40 years ago August 1969, and the two million people who descended on the National Mall this past January, the correlation certainly exists. Just don’t expect the White House to make the connection anytime soon.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zIoW_Bmc06DCaiW9-m7S4p3vZZUsZnBM_CL0eACDj4IrNAv0fXuZokVTg89zsnjYM_ZOvTywbxrg4kbtBzlaGGZwGAX_hzmIkdoAncBz9KCR7rOaPXJj55ApTcx1HvIgNbdvuqV06bM/s200/Woodstock+road.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375434376567448946" border="0" />For the hundreds of thousands who stormed the gates of Yasgur’s farm, Woodstock was always more than a 3-day music and arts festival. For them, it was a movement that had been growing for the better part of a decade. And by the time they got to Woodstock, they were literally a half a million strong.<br /><br />But it wasn’t just the artists and attendees <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 72px; height: 72px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU31Rg13IkCuzPMOPs97sg0Tm2wSzNUj-hQkYBrR5WgF5eDDsuiK-oodyRymKiAWTSTppdaJ_qOfDLiB1eyAfQdVzEWI3kv-wQGNzAqjxjkRIg1OJe5yAWrp9LJCHIBwKyURo3FCNcuQE/s200/janis-joplin.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375417510091644210" border="0" />who viewed Woodstock through rose-colored glasses. Thanks to the film released by Warner Bros. the following year, that’s the way most of the world saw it, too.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31LZrJgz6gzdysq_ZTFdkHFiCOj1GPnX5CnGLfe2IXzsiP0WnwX_0055zvRpAO44MkkDxwV5i6FMNgGASov0457w8Pr0qyKwhyphenhyphend-VA230rz5wv2FwM6ODHIm3h7X5n5s19zm-Q4QAqxY/s200/Woodstock+MoviePoster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375418458649857346" border="0" />Of course in process of condensing 72 hours into a 4-hour film the studio would release, a lot was left on the cutting room floor. And it’s those forgotten pieces that tell not only the <span style="font-style: italic;">real</span> story of Woodstock, but offer a cautionary tale for the newly anointed president.<br /><br />So enamored are we with the mythology of Woodstock that we tend to overlook the fact that <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJtGgkoUdq-lWexJfJzumojjZSkFvtYzBeKacIEDFm11ZHzlC5fbM0UyJpkaYI9UAZTo2ih9AH-_WKbEV0vwmJ7Pp5ALwjazFAnlCKdHUNs_SYuKubg9hovqXJMKW0kYS1D6wZSSQ-ms/s200/Partisan+Cartoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375418765722888194" border="0" />the promoters of the fabled 3-day festival completely lost control of their creation. The result? The site was declared a national disaster site less than a day into the event. And while Obama had the winds of generational change at his back last November, he, too, has walked smack dab into a national disaster. And just as the concert promoters had to be bailed out by the federal government, the Obama Nation has suffered<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oUHJOwS832vuY-S55ReWOjIorKqfXL6kykdQWI13wnh38f6bGGUavVmfFTEshyphenhyphengcoZuYqABcbVwHa0e8uEAuBu7pBPpCMnGguslTRNQD7p1xsiDSPnlXv2veSQCKyFzEwccbghHVQII/s200/wall-street-bail-out-450.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419331186003042" border="0" /> the same fate to the tune of of a $787 stimulus package intended to assauge the beleaguered economy. The only difference is that while the Woodstock crowd got a free concert, the Wall Street looters who brought this country to its knees are the ones who got a free ride.<br /><br />And what about the corporate greed? Again, the similarities abound.<br /><br />In the case of Woodstock, the moment the contact high wore off, the feel-good euphoria <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfi3c2pD2hJzaS7WUSIAqvGv8nWcLHOvuFSYtsXdVDttlTkzBtds9leZ4uTBmVVsUHKsXOz54VTjdWi0rM33CaO4_lX5yakcVS5KI27BcOb2JetPhkjnRpgkDV6-ecn3btbM994fkysA/s200/woodstock+books.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419659263206562" border="0" />sparked in those three days of peace, love and understanding immediately gave way to a perpetual commoditization. Not only the sense of community Woodstock engendered, but an endless quest to commoditize the Woodstock name itself.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSz3V2b0V2x25wC1tt-kDcFgtpXfTy69dBFDAR_PwciBYjnluAPfyd9la8nCSqMdXNNbtHqUdKoVjoAJQn9k7SaQA9y_BQNxPrjY1Zk3BIuPTxDla6Xw7ebbkSlqxJ-bJjERgRKa0fdBw/s200/Obama+stuff.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375420106592587794" border="0" />Similarly, Barack Obama has suffered the same fate. His name, his likeness, his promise to renew our faith in our government and ourselves has become fodder for a seemingly endless supply of T-shirts, bumper stickers and faux campaign buttons. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXc0e9DWuWQfiCBlUS-wwprR5nGq0Q67rZ4UaA0CIt2EPRbt-6oZXaB4e97A9biGkQ4eCk3mkY34Ng5-kRRfrz0k021zEQdl9PEfqMfC91RojfZhclCPaeQS4fKaEU5CfBp7uIhljwkQ/s200/WoodstockDoveSignedPoster.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375420797017082530" border="0" />Said another way, in the months since his election, Barack Obama has become more than a president; he has become a brand. The commoditization of the Obama Nation has begun.<br /><br />Just as that iconic image of that lone white dove on the guitar neck will always evoke a sense of idyllic idealism, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxc4fX_G0Bq9pb-r7wxKvTx4ceeQ8YOAkbqyvaqTq-HRZmyE0EzSfM_WEvR_dpYX650kIFetfsOHKqlGTLQN-mFA6fmfgE5z4anx_zAhyqmCrWAPpKPO9fFd-2vJS7cWq8cJRqMn1Ygo/s200/obamaab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375438214548963874" border="0" />Shepard Fairey’s equally iconic image of Barack Obama will be used for generations to come to evoke a similar sense of sanguine certainty that things will get better.<br /><br />Much has been made over those who graced the stage at Woodstock. After all, the event wasn't the only thing mythologized over the last 40 years. Similarly, much has also been made of those who did not grace Woodstock with their presence.<br /><br />Among the biggest stars not to trek through<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WJ5h6wUNkn03Ciiw2p6uk2pB-BkQGPqqHGJEEdAMT7DcjObwv12TL3mmm4AKSJ3oG-CG4ZkhhBraD74vmcvWaZvyzWtCa_knUY2BfFCTCPnOSxC5lTEd85wH2U1btAu9h8As3YLZZvI/s200/Dylan+woodstock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375432708589467474" border="0" /> the mud and the sludge was Bob Dylan. Apparently, Dylan gave some thought to making an appearance (he was living in the neighboring town at the time, after all). But ultimately, Dylan couldn’t seem to get past his animosity toward the <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 107px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjz4GZ2Lwx8XDiTnZ0ROXLx6KNYIiNwcUuRkfapHI7SJoNPMfab8hxjlhW1pqqHpkFKA1KdNHGbS0Fv0XOGI_ogC8VN0y8eyJ0bAo0_kTEpPKPVCpAeeHHhWxjq28HMYdvdTVSMAMBBVg/s200/jesse+dylan+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375421621817498866" border="0" />fans who had crowded in on his newly adopted domestic lifestyle by constantly dropping by his house at all hours of the night. Of course, the excuse Dylan himself gave was much more pedantic: his son was sick that day.<br /><br />Whether it was overzealous fans or a child on the mend, in the end Dylan probably made the right decision not to attend Woodstock.<br /><br />Sure, Woodstock transformed many of the artists<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ifCBEC4g5fFFmbxFA5WuhMtqU6ThZ5Yhvws1Ds7CFGd9jXj0eoSEd1PIr5AHiMv25x0ZVn9ARqCsdyWHp0p59jPLV782zl2NS5DWWnnQbwReRAmU_sSiWhQ7H3jdAQC0LlZwcYCGkDE/s200/dylan+folk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375422437097801986" border="0" /> who performed into cultural icons. But by 1969, Dylan was already an icon. And besides, part of the reason Dylan retreated to Woodstock in the first place was to shake that ‘voice of a generation’ label the folkies had pinned on him. What could he <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 72px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjStTIsoE0UQOt5rf1aWxtCde7DsYmLfkETQ1HCmSfFdMQYU-VegNXUQm4pI4owGtClwQvAGOPeZPcpcBc2GePGOijV-f78IN7iZU4WpMPkZ8-d7fJAV_SVCBXQfPHR2Q_LkfqJ758tbV4/s200/Mired+in+mud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375422623988871842" border="0" />possibly have gained from being lumped in with 400,000 people whose biggest claim to fame 40 years later is that they managed to make it through three days mired in a cow pasture filled with mud and manure?<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 68px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMtCxCy_ipBWBdbrCh9GXcdVRcAmJhyphenhyphenz0G2IT7AMXDUbqfYBMFzlmJ0ohVORlDuQKRil6y6eXrV0i1bxV2MGSAww9PQUzWksBwkSrMRtt028PW11BLeo1W4YTH0M5A2Iei6r338kMFoRY/s200/jimi_woodstock.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375422859328138834" border="0" />And so, as we peer through the purple haze of the past and peel back the layers of the Woodstock legacy, perhaps the real legacy of Woodstock has as much to do with excess as with idealism.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 65px; height: 69px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm8VCUL9Zsy_hzL4eUhsYXX7zI_BIwEGkvoRuYZVr6VrOZX5HIG8cq_-a3bhr3CMvdley60LmiJAb50My0HX7Opyt2_dC2uC-GmvDqgk7DjskW8P5LlLv5ka9hR4RxayDLJmfpJU4Hf7w/s200/obma+for+peace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375422987899819170" border="0" />Interesting how history really does tend to repeat itself …<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Time passes slowly up here in the daylight,</span><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Umt45CxkpKHRk5Kt_kHrgmijusoUaKgJ6U-RaveoDE_n6wz_pZMY7qfiRGL1vmijVgSpmyIJpnXa9XawQD6-8xX4t_pT-mX9OhayDWDlVeqqhu8GGS_RLd-aKaN_R283yk2YLxRHKE0/s200/dylan+red.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375421210551537122" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Time passes slowly and fades away.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-71158422595367563912009-08-16T11:29:00.000-07:002009-08-29T10:37:36.232-07:00“Shelter from the Storm”: Bob Dylan comes in from the rain; finds his direction home<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"Come in," she said,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"I'll give you shelter from the storm."</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ynkfbgiUR6QxMN_NfpAvNkxYrTy3EkTuX3DfIT9OkymWK94GFQsZKSGXnAX05rcuJvGkfEYsRL9L_ZX_Y66LjfepjqZTay8zAmad5QVrwWyQvkzcsIhlv9OW3w1HBcqcSq5Mj8ZGUXo/s200/beloit_logo.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372116386158594210" border="0" />Every fall, Beloit College releases its ‘Mindset List.’ Comprised of 75 cultural landmarks, the list offers a revealing glimpse into how the roughly 300 freshmen of this small, liberal arts college view the world.<br /><br />Admittedly, even for those of us born after 1991 (the year <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 87px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XKT2qQG4vvoOKzzw1p02kPKY-M41xaFYnPJX6BktX3I5tlkLnPsm0PBIYAMJZ8YxDJNc42qVQP764ehAjOLRygYf8Q1G7GbQXID8Aay1HepL8Q_ZCk6T_BavBTXPygOdi17JFFGZozI/s200/no_internet_access.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372116608637372882" border="0" /> Beloit's entering freshmen were born) it can at times be difficult to remember a world without the Internet; a world when wars weren’t fought on 52” flat <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 67px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugn839g4rSgpdaoVmHRdbxnvnYf2X00oInWu7779iIpg8QnvghuTSmXA4jukPwpAaeHYLw4c_PkGrVqXX2yB98BQKAERdiDXOCtr-DzohI2MO9TiNQl4WYZ6B8F-Kl3VA1paymMM8oSc/s200/britney_rollingstone_c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372116826832813970" border="0" />screens in our living room; a world where Britney Spears wasn’t always a perennial staple of classic rock radio. But a world without Bob Dylan?<br /><br />Welcome to the world as seen through the eyes of the Class of 2013.<br /><br />Technically, Kristie Buble, the 24-year-old New Jersey police officer who failed to recognize the legendary musician last week should <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 99px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3c9I5qQy4F2kQGL6KSVKdm428fa-OEA5jVGE5oiXDaxGZ1ZjFfF4sxqzyEMqYD4c-2kfuDZHBAFxKCE-OJOaSDw70yGOXp0Y5g0gx8EOPo3mVcLJTLRqIbryGYE7TSxmkdH7xPhdcG8/s200/nm_dylan_arrest_090814_mn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372117027595835746" border="0" />have been able to ID the iconoclastic singer. After all, Officer Buble <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> born in 1985, a good six years before Beloit’s incoming freshman class.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 68px; height: 66px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5wlbo1TLXgwcThLc9cGpDwNC5VjWR5jOYVtlOfnq4zLzBanufifrK1endzFsECp_O0LtSDRGFFh3qA4yN44kw_FlPTn3Ol1P2VqZMJFzEzb_vEx2r7YFFwNgwmPTN3v3iMCcDqOTku4/s200/empire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372117282609888354" border="0" />And while <span style="font-style: italic;">Empire Burlesque</span>, also released in 1985, is hardly one of Bob’s most memorable offerings, his last two recordings—2006’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Modern Times</span> and this year’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Together Through Life</span>—both have reached #1 on the Billboard charts. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUySTZtWivtGcNwSIceuGGA_T-i-tEv7wNAM7dALZuRu28nZzcPM3QqFEjL3oh0kZtBrw5qL_AVHpLEFSQjOy-kBeUah-k3GlQh-C30xQEbP5XpMQBomoYYSupPQv1zU0WhBB3u0YJ-c/s1600-h/RS1008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 64px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUySTZtWivtGcNwSIceuGGA_T-i-tEv7wNAM7dALZuRu28nZzcPM3QqFEjL3oh0kZtBrw5qL_AVHpLEFSQjOy-kBeUah-k3GlQh-C30xQEbP5XpMQBomoYYSupPQv1zU0WhBB3u0YJ-c/s200/RS1008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372117516755019282" border="0" /></a>Not to mention Bob has graced the cover of <span style="font-style: italic;">Rolling Stone</span>—a magazine Buble has likely perused on more than a few stakeouts—three times in as many years.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3Wn-6BXSrH-6aWymVLrFy8JlOCCNE6XDj6gzR3-T_iGMaox87D4Et7C2yCEf6uIfh4EsF075ScPacOp3BthFKTo_EMOpGrB9VoNej4biWGe_oU7FB5i-S3gni-AEG6sN2WK-_waVbJk/s200/15361739.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372117850303252546" border="0" />In light of the fact that Dylan was found ambling aimlessly in the rain, disheveled and somewhat disoriented, the press has reveled in the reports that the 24-year-old rookie was unable to place the face of the "eccentric-looking old man" who just happened to be Bob Dylan.<br /><br />To that end, much has been made of the now self referential <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhztEIqc18xL8Vpbyl9qmEgT3_A4sAFCKZ_VMchrsXHWhGW1XffQmBmIeoSEvfdCKvdtNpAyR1B8JFcTKc2RFDoXM_nBuZm-orY-01kdiPiw3IEiJLzJggaVJ1ge0M80rriev9iACK49wo/s1600-h/nodirectionhome.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 73px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhztEIqc18xL8Vpbyl9qmEgT3_A4sAFCKZ_VMchrsXHWhGW1XffQmBmIeoSEvfdCKvdtNpAyR1B8JFcTKc2RFDoXM_nBuZm-orY-01kdiPiw3IEiJLzJggaVJ1ge0M80rriev9iACK49wo/s200/nodirectionhome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372118332728054178" border="0" /></a>1965 lyric, “How does it feel / To be on your own / Like a complete unknown.” But maybe the joke’s on the J-men. Perhaps the fact that Dylan, one of the most iconoclastic people of the 20th century (and as a result one would also suspect one of the most recognizable) <span style="font-style: italic;">wasn’t</span> recognized is the real testament to Dylan’s enduring eminence.<br /><br />Because the truth is that there is another line nestled in middle of that the famous couplet that has been all but overlooked—<br /><br />“How does it feel / To be on your own / <span style="font-style: italic;">With no direction home</span> / Like a complete unknown.”<br /><br />And while the lyric isn’t the most literal as it relates to last week’s incident, in hindsight it’s by far the most insightful.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg48GuAyEpM2nxnkrPHfJf2n8PGy8gr8aTYhT2lBj7Rh0HZI_Z6WSJyC9rKhsvlNrRv7QEZMa5lbrNHfgEHnTNsdI17HFziWj1cmAShsfdv2oxvRpJmPcvJFEeU4-7miS6qZnzhxs93AA/s200/bobdylan+rock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372118732729130162" border="0" />Dylan begrudgingly began his career as the preeminent torchbearer for the burgeoning folk movement of the early 1960s. After going electric in 1965, he embraced the rock star status his new musical direction afforded, despite the self destructive toll it eventually took on him.<br /><br />In the 1980s, he struggled with the growing <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 91px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuuyH12ZUYk2yygdlmQJTma5dSr30-Rl-lCvUMVIme5GdoDX7T3qX1RBPNnpWJ2HU6Ii7YLcKJK2nF8A9I1kz6PuMonOtLVazeoU0RsC2YgzrH5WQleNvJISgbMV5QgLDQ3b-r1zzXieE/s200/dylan+sketch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372119054943784994" border="0" />enmity the burden of being labeled an ‘icon’ brought. But by the mid-1990s Dylan seemed to be at peace with himself, comfortable with the knowledge that he has spent a lifetime searching for not only for <span style="font-style: italic;">his</span> roots, he’s spent a lifetime searching for <span style="font-style: italic;">America’s</span> roots. And while the ultimate destination of that seemingly never-ending search still remains unknown, now more than ever Dylan seems doggedly determined that he's headed in the right direction.<br /><br />For some, the notion of being mistaken as an eccentric old man by a 24-year-old beat cop who‘s come of age in a world where "Magic" Johnson is better known for being HIV-positive than his high-flying hook shot may seem like a slap in the face to the legendary performer.<br /><br />But if you step back for a moment to consider the fact that Bob <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOu5lxOdiR25_iNQMLXWDXnaoMt1XoDsoAxMhG8In7VVBMEXAcYR60sf6iEvH3fTgpge_Kwo7-XxiOzPRA09CJOsyU6cYy_9AJueAj376eNxrBmhVlDIGpkRgrnhKfKz2l6gZ-R2HHdAw/s200/paris_hilton_three_nose_job.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372119532794120754" border="0" />Dylan can remain incognito in an era where recognition has become a direct correlation to our perceived social currency, then perhaps the ability to blend into what Greil Marcus famously referred to as an <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOzsRJsmf0kx2BcGW91ictbRwV5HNhwPKalZtvsexdnoNrwXEFqZt5dL9hbIe0BcSdIbJoWK06xeienvjij3swHcFyi2SAPcAmPakGeGl73LM0Oc4PJWr3Lgjm63LeQIlF3PmjnLPbqE/s1600-h/dylan_rs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOzsRJsmf0kx2BcGW91ictbRwV5HNhwPKalZtvsexdnoNrwXEFqZt5dL9hbIe0BcSdIbJoWK06xeienvjij3swHcFyi2SAPcAmPakGeGl73LM0Oc4PJWr3Lgjm63LeQIlF3PmjnLPbqE/s200/dylan_rs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372119732288086354" border="0" /></a>“Invisible Republic” may be the most telling testament of all to the fact that after spending a lifetime scouring America’s musical and cultural landscape in an effort to unearth the essence of the American experience, Bob Dylan has finally found his way home…<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,</span> <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bX377xNI7oI7rLAm3tY4gqjrQgR8tbe5433e6qV75icdQfZ6z8Tiu7Txc4R3Ubs3RLYOkkOkKEvJXAZ0bA5rnQEIqpyYBT0Op1l2e7pI_BeoDsOOZy7jKwZYSjRVbpPM95g3rQXwS1A/s200/dylan+storm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372119957916549346" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"Come in," she said,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"I'll give you shelter from the storm."</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-74925394782086311942009-08-09T17:15:00.000-07:002009-08-20T12:14:43.470-07:00'Everything's Broken’ in Healthcare: A long, hot summer ahead for US lawmakers<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Broken hands on broken ploughs,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Broken treaties, broken vows,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Broken pipes, broken tools,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">People bending broken rules.</span><br /><br />Broken promises, corrupt politicians, racial injustice, social inequality— <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 108px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QEGK1Ht4Dj_21qcyUF-gwPh0KRweB0DY26CoK3SkYYBKQ5snmObXiIVmrq2wqTOT42SLHeeHw2yzm46GiZJk3HmXaWBIbYrCTp_7k6Qm3ogMsR30H5q0R8fOESNxmFOz30DklUfqjLg/s200/Dylan_Street_Art_in_Austin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368724380320359874" border="0" />when it comes to the issues that have shaped America's cultural conscience, there's little he hasn't commented on. Yet in the last five decades, Bob Dylan has yet to write a song about one issue that touches <span style="font-style: italic;">every</span> American regardless of race, creed and color: healthcare.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn7cs0yy39wYOik2Pyda7olrBlYwttkdkeSQWWBLdkAW98Ta4sA03dIGLX3RGJgmotw0F_hTWYMBTrGwiIHNVxgQ7bA8aPHFjYcAjnjEo7mDw5OMZ9Pl-xJzxK46m6H3WS72GOB-Cd10/s1600-h/health_care_debate.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn7cs0yy39wYOik2Pyda7olrBlYwttkdkeSQWWBLdkAW98Ta4sA03dIGLX3RGJgmotw0F_hTWYMBTrGwiIHNVxgQ7bA8aPHFjYcAjnjEo7mDw5OMZ9Pl-xJzxK46m6H3WS72GOB-Cd10/s200/health_care_debate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368725150555533938" border="0" /></a>The debate over healthcare has become the most heated and incendiary issue in recent political memory. And if last week is any indication, it’s going to be long, hot summer for US lawmakers, indeed.<br /><br />Of course being jeered at, sneered at, even flat out shouted at is hardly new to members of Congress. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6F0Kqb5UB8sdXEKmbdsNTMryED0AZWCdB2Y1S5K3yevjJCEy_Eku_T8Wb_bGLm0XslUMsYWUeo5ux9eb1jzAL1bzqRZL_ZscpGSSOPf8Da4echKhqfwGErkvmoE9ykDOSmAJg7Ak57U/s200/Sebelius_specter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368495589019241122" border="0" />But getting your hand slapped by a posturing colleague on C-Span in the wee hours of the night when no one’s watching is one thing. Getting an earful from an irate constituent—someone you actually have to listen to—is entirely different. And that’s precisely how members of the House and Senate are spending their summer vacation:<br /><ul><li>Close to 1,500 people came to the Tampa suburb of Ybor City last week hoping to hear Democratic State Rep. Betty Reed and U.S. Rep. Kathy Castor state their positions on healthcare. The event quickly regressed into a near riot.<br /><br /></li><li>In Michigan, a ‘town hall’ meeting hosted by Democratic Rep. John Dingell underwent a similar metamorphosis when the forum turned into a shouting match as supporters and detractors of the pending healthcare reform bill butted heads and traded verbal barbs.<br /><br /></li><li>In Mehlville, Mo., a gathering organized by Democratic Rep. Russ Carnahan and billed as a meeting on aging turned violent when St. Louis police arrested six people, some on assault charges.</li></ul>Political protest has a long and hallowed place in our country’s history. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtlsTsbJcjthD63kQc1GjKp1TA5BOcOCg0mYm3iuY4X5yK-cSKofuVGUfV_EDp_vWvRwQX8Who9G-OxIMSHaDeQL5Olru7O3C1rQ-9dVr8i-MZ4lGETzZ9nnCoSpTun53dH2bOwWUfms/s200/hall_fig01b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368496411560411778" border="0" />And while the furor ignited by the current debate over healthcare hardly seems on par with Civil Rights, the Vietnam War or the other issues that defined Dylan's generation, how we take care of our sick and elderly is no less important, and will have no less impact on the future of our nation.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUWzpjxC5pXS7Mu_LCFnzUS4UGGw-W3j4qSDPLB3dtgfoMy9tuogemelFwllHueBWHAW_-dvAJSZ4cp9MVRp2Ymu6FeU-HlVcVls0FeZ9d0AW2QkKppeTeqbitif9PjIoGXp5I3w_kqY/s200/dylan-bob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368496615090310066" border="0" />Chances are, however, Bob won’t be turning up at any of the healthcare town hall meetings singing “We Shall Overcome,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” or “The Times They are A-Changin’” to demonstrate his allegiance for a populous that is rapidly agin’.<br /><br />Instead, we’ll have to rely on the media to stir up the fervor and infuse the emotional resonance into the debate. And if you've been watching the nightly news over the last few days, you know they already have.<br /><br />According to reports, many of the protesters have said that they’ve been urged<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SXptZ5mNQrao7pWt4ITGB47ixYRXApxR95ofSzjvYdpM-1jLpqis3-hCYes9GgPsE7_4uQhi7-PPopz3JZ_aFeIAzFqIuW3PBhF9-YpTmbwe3tzYS7-AAk4Lz8at5DXEzkTKgTg6IxM/s200/AndreaLafferty2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368496827149006850" border="0" /> to take action by conservative activist groups like the Tradition Values Coalition (TVC), a Washington-based conservative group who is letting citizens know when and where their US senators and representatives will be holding town hall meetings, and encouraging 'concerned' citizens to attend.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4GB2rErzqxIgb1sYHjUalX6FOX6t52uiXcie1LOGbwugbARSRh8B73DX2Rn5lb7eKDLbGW0MEpmnrY1qFpZfa56RNqB2-7Jh7XkyZ5iM7_HTgJOUTXl7jYXwa2_64J0Z_YIuNIQ9B3I/s200/181-6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368497152342168866" border="0" />In response to charges that the TVC is taking advantage of those old, gray and in the way, Andrea Lafferty, the organization's executive director, defends the promotion of the events as an opportunity for Americans to voice their genuine concerns.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 85px; height: 85px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaumun70Cl4Y-AODEKlSaQpnksfPe-Ht0JUHharH0qSVTukKG7F_cSM6QdWYRLh-k3b5kgi1fHfPEZqZt6jCHwRbWwmBpUGPT58OlEyVN1V6E_zmRaicqORkdRHNWtkYOMRHD-QMFH8ac/s200/healthcare+button.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368497813728268354" border="0" />"It's summer,” Lafferty maintains. “Most kids haven't returned to school yet, and this will be a valuable civics lesson for your children, your grandchildren, friends, and family."<br /><br />It’s ironic that the White House has shown such disdain for the demonstrations against those Democratic legislators who have suffere<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNcYCdtM8VDt53Kwxo7xlsNHyv-h_dkQGbF1dBjZKoYfRmQR9HFfOEvFwKtfgknlok9H3U3canOgO1jJt-BHKGbNxdaZAP47yVmbuMq-odAhU0J-ijsbhnbC8eJJaQh575y9GXE898Cc/s200/time-young-voters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368498273762974978" border="0" />d the slings and arrows of discontent. After all, the fact that Obama is even <span style="font-style: italic;">in </span>the White House is largely due to his ability to mobilize over 13 million disenfranchised voters between the ages of 18 and 35 using many of the same techniques now being employed by 'agitators.' Funny how the fundamental, underlying right of American to assemble and speak freely becomes such a travesty when the tables are turned.<br /><br />But whether the demonstrations are manufactured or an organic, grassroots reaction to the point that voters have to shout to be heard, both the White House and the media have missed the point of the protests entirely.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66_mHKpYqRfq9pNfFufMJaXjpUwUIVBl5Y4QLfctsesPu4k9qnt1AgFH-T5DC_djGZukC5LsAcFxrm6Dfe8TjosxsVYZebLvUpcvJTqB0lYfRiXxgxjxVFkssGzBNsRoLKRyleBxrPj0/s200/web-obama-healthcare.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368498742251208338" border="0" />The issue here isn’t whether these demonstrations have been organized by special interest groups, concocted by conservative political action committees or orchestrated the pharmaceutical companies (let's be honest— chances are all have likely played a hand in the disturbances). The issue is that the disturbance of the status quo has done <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> what it’s supposed to do. It's pissed people off.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEvNLYdkD-nQJUAa12CzwK-od014EMgx_3C6lbTN15f7bsn_yd3HXi1-9tmGOydQ8hTMgZ9P6ItoydEKbpLm9atqWfag5ClydXZWmeMNZW23YZZUL_reAQUe53pQ7rniGg6bU2RmNrJ0/s1600-h/rman4705l.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEvNLYdkD-nQJUAa12CzwK-od014EMgx_3C6lbTN15f7bsn_yd3HXi1-9tmGOydQ8hTMgZ9P6ItoydEKbpLm9atqWfag5ClydXZWmeMNZW23YZZUL_reAQUe53pQ7rniGg6bU2RmNrJ0/s200/rman4705l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368499063513916946" border="0" /></a>The issue of reconfiguring healthcare has struck a nerve in the American electorate. And that nerve is only going to become more inflamed as the debate drags on. The fact that we are dealing with an issue that is far too complex for most lawmakers, much less a majority of Americans to understand, only compounds the problem.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 128px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWsFLDsRNUBJD6RNPMHz0ui21gQfFVzIIR8B9jReaRzHr5T0HYyfFYC7YJXldiSl6S7CW4Foa47tVMT2nhMfaWNREcXq90gdrOOonvTTaBt0eANyHxS9LJwJOk5ulBbH4KN9NgF20hnI/s200/obama_nazi_communist_muslim_peace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368499320869357058" border="0" />Certainly, no one—not Republicans, not Democrats, not the media—is condoning violence or advocating the use icons that conjure up images of hate and intolerance, though these techniques have been used at more than a few gatherings. But until the media starts doing their job and really <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCBawOaDmfQdLqoCdZGuyeOfFiOThP8nOXsxzSIoOUSUH6KHky1Fn-k-WRkPggVOdW6VJkK58lj5kv5CfljPuc9LFZVVo_cXPZzo0xMciZp_fzCQSifqxCCeGsDqTx2hmIiKtSw292PQ/s200/anderson-cooper-360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368499549676443794" border="0" />“keeps them honest” as one cable outlet so piously professes on a nightly basis, the most reliable source in the healthcare debate will remain the public, no matter how unruly they become.<br /><br />There’s no question healthcare is broken in this country. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguVaSiwUholCqYGiQeXyPdpW_yvwRE60C9Fmdaj_k6vfbnionK5JalPcHK6aSB-V-kJr9ZP1Pv33RxZ9VVWOwGLNbAbZ2f7SpUAYdYHT9o8q5Lr-VDXLleQ-Wm3adFlp9a5-SOOZaVHus/s1600-h/Prescribed+Congress.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguVaSiwUholCqYGiQeXyPdpW_yvwRE60C9Fmdaj_k6vfbnionK5JalPcHK6aSB-V-kJr9ZP1Pv33RxZ9VVWOwGLNbAbZ2f7SpUAYdYHT9o8q5Lr-VDXLleQ-Wm3adFlp9a5-SOOZaVHus/s200/Prescribed+Congress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368499784817447858" border="0" /></a>And while the town hall meetings might not be the best place to have a measured, reasonable discussion on how to fix this fractured and failing system, the politicians should be thankful that their kangaroo courtship of the voters has brought their constituents out in droves.<br /><br />Now they’ll be able to see firsthand how truly out of touch they've become…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi232rO4Fvrr1TNilY5Mg65t_6cpYdmqPvloDhtL-oqT84PegCqdDP1EI-noRV6m77Ov2gxqsEd4VzUNJIh22awqkaraVXwvkr55DLWEO0DbH-5fJe8trnqRDvtMfHgat0L6aUrC2-aST4/s200/44hu8o0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368500173478959170" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Broken dishes, broken parts,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Streets are filled with broken hearts.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Broken words never meant to be spoken,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Everything is broken.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-9441567356144905432009-08-02T10:57:00.000-07:002009-08-11T06:33:34.077-07:00“The Days of ‘49”: Walter Cronkite, Bob Dylan and the death of network news<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">;</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true</span>;<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine;</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of ‘49</span><br /><br />Believe it or not, there once <span>was</span> a time when “the most trusted name in news” was more than <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvKlzp_ejAGWmWJcH6ZynCMU_jL2RwdKnvW7ajxzzFbVsMbA1MRAlaD0k8B8RPHGq_CTgyiiRGUg7w_s2D3DJ1PCqOy0GBGvZS68WnZshBxdnBdD3M8nM3JKx5ZE0xxGORco8TPzEE10/s200/CNN.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366541937990903154" border="0" />just a pithy slogan: a time before the barrage of 24-hour news channels, a time before the Internet, a time before the incessant, perpetual stream of information that now runs across our television sets, computer screens, and iPhones like an endless, mind-numbing loop.<br /><br />It was a time when the most trusted <span style="font-style: italic;">name</span> in news wasn’t a name at all— it was man. And with the passing of Walter Cronkite on July 17th at the age of 92, we were reminded of that time.<br /><br />Known for his metered, straightforward delivery, and his iconic sign-off line, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGUXexLCvBHT1Yt4p-QBawYpEPkwXSXVWAvEGp0Qcc8e9KrVbj096NH2Dr52VnLwhlLHzOF52Nxrr9YLkzu3js4JBXwqO6jqvA8jFIerugdltVNRg7kh74f1wYyJ9UO3kLsHbST2BCSc/s200/CBS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366543574604773730" border="0" />“That’s the way it is,” Walter Cronkite wasn’t just the anchor of the nation’s most-watched news program. He was our Rock of Gibraltar at a time when America was awash in a sea of instability, unrest and turbulence.<br /><br />The Kennedy assassination, the Apollo moon landing, Watergate, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDoye43zpj4T8Nt8q7wsWYex3iGyVQBzXbOPD_LZtNZfWS0zoHGlfomjj6O_sUfzWmLGd-_Cezm-zQr5iLghszgG1oScFXv6RnEwyKHLM2DgclclDFmVFHdwwdeGKj1ODm6AeQXKIkKG4/s200/cronkite+reports.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366543791555785234" border="0" />Civil Rights, the war in Vietnam. Cronkite covered them all, and did so with an accuracy and authority that hearkened back to a time when those who referred to themselves as ‘reporters’ actually engaged in the business of reporting.<br /><br />Yet for all his attributes, all the qualities that made him the consummate newsman, Walter Cronkite was not without his frailties.<br /><br />He cried when he read the news<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEagvFlVMR8YYT6wABsoBMFRhZAETevoEX5E5OHof9qsEvXg7kjUkqTiIEl_mtdP6er9e8WD75tc3c1CwboNXmaP4-vnGXfoVH4SFSEXf1EwKJEvVXp1AISH11d3IKCiSVmo02Uu0-vWE/s200/cronkite_jfk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366543989821384290" border="0" /> John Kennedy had died at the hand of an assassin’s bullet. He allowed his boyish sense of awe to spill over as he watched Neil Armstrong take that one small step for man, that one giant leap for mankind. And he tempered his disgust <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 81px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bNwXjVICDfzKdvyPpGTSCUuFfcrSj7OGRS_Q5TOHZy6yr7x9Trnnh2jXeJybrvzq3f5rGh-HBZya7m0zht4tP1fYbHtP2jMY1SOxaFFFgEw6xXXVJmMXU77349qt36qW5hdvt4ua8no/s200/Cronkite-with-Apollo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366544206115841986" border="0" />when he reported on a president who had put his own political aspirations ahead of a nation’s moral authority.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcG0cBXQ1rj6H6qUtUiBprtij57vd7viQpFugK1UFojxeaPfYCjzdF-sCBcJnMSos1LnpCIkIYz76bLOX8nMmzQrqpWS9oRvJ0zLZD9ALBEC-qpnVQKguVFqG-9pVMDlut0lqBmW2xSI/s1600-h/cronkite_time.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 84px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcG0cBXQ1rj6H6qUtUiBprtij57vd7viQpFugK1UFojxeaPfYCjzdF-sCBcJnMSos1LnpCIkIYz76bLOX8nMmzQrqpWS9oRvJ0zLZD9ALBEC-qpnVQKguVFqG-9pVMDlut0lqBmW2xSI/s200/cronkite_time.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366544520656851874" border="0" /></a>Walter Cronkite may not have invented TV journalism, but by the time he relinquished the reins of the CBS Evening News in 1981, he had most certainly become the epitome of it.<br /><br />He also sowed the seeds of its demise.<br /><br />For two decades, Cronkite had reported without bias or bravado on America’s <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQVHPj8E7KmSMmTYwqPlCSX6UYXlDYyT9lXCgksc6Knk7JeKvGSuLj5pMMlQ6JSlFubjNn6XncoX3oc8zEYNve_bmCz-FcPBQVwc9GJL2IkEmylku1gpApnMdP2Rv_gyI7tNBFcyLn-fs/s200/WalterCronkiteImage2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366544740785256818" border="0" />slow and slippery descent into a civil war in far off and distant land. But when the most trusted man in America referred to <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmjf0gtkOVAw-xDX7HeWgzeWS1ZpGWF3-lSPiiYFnXKzCl8TjcDbUeoI-jG3D1ebdS20jE85_qvd_Ia8-wTcJiDT-sVIuVFslJXLWrJyq8TbizSNo_KCCphRKcLG5hwfBtsv6LRL5cMI/s200/into+quagmire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366546668819714994" border="0" /> Vietnam in a 1968 as a “bloody and endless quagmire that is costing both American and Vietnamese lives,” he effectively ended the era of the impartial, impervious reporter.<br /><br />So did Cronkite destroy network news? Far from it. In fact, he set the bar by which network news will forever be measured. But he was held in such<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKLAQjlxOd2eb3hrsF3sxVuqsc25ZlShcpdPo0S7PQ_8PYwJwQItq-0YpD6gIzDPQDcIgvGVDMW66OhCH6MdCOVdq7ZAoTT2jcRw_wFmX3P7lMmS9PaV8lv2Zj6yfLEgfTOCwUcewgqo/s200/o'reilly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366638754661587506" border="0" /> high esteem, his opinion so valued, that when he broke from the reporter’s credo of sticking to ‘just the facts’ by opining on Lyndon Johnson’s policy in Vietnam, he paved the way for the evening news’ transition from a factual clearinghouse into a bully pulpit.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBB92l-GmeScsmwrluLdaP0-tBi_NdiCHjEQX7ClMA5ECbDTECNchJFd9basgDlX3O-Lq6-pmJfLSH98cWwoO-nrseJAC5MwhdR1DXrQypVlUOxK2ZjmkUWpFmYQajun8Y8Yiqmoik9c/s200/dylan-greenwood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366545947490193634" border="0" />Of course, political punditry is hardly new. Just as trusted newsmen like Cronkite reported on the stories of the day, traveling troubadours like Pete Seeger, Joan Baez and Bob Dylan made names for themselves by crafting songs that painted a stark portrait of injustice, inequity and intolerance in a way that often elevated point of view over matter-of-fact.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kdOd1Nbrr1NzAzIXL1notymu5zdgxs1mT-8cUfkz8NodDmOeR6J_WmNSb85WZnXAriEKUXPPngGY91QGrYaSEo1T8I5_P7beOAmfCi0Lbex_Lt4QsQJK01oCMsx08LVhhypke3Mu3dA/s200/huffington.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366545159460713714" border="0" />But can Bill O’Reilly, Ann Coulter, Arianna Huffington, Sean Hannity, Alan Colmes or the myriad of other pundits whose sole reason for existence is to pontificate and polarize <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>be laid at the feet of Walter Cronkite? Of course not.<br /><br />But in a time when Jon Stewart can be voted the “most trusted newscaster” by 44% of Americans, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_zOPva_O-6IbyatQougbTTLCezKh-ilb2CjWuGkO_2hAgPgMbLJ3Kf71HquIqMKVK7Ct7NkTLEdX0r-FqGwO9e9lkeL85CixL7nGa39GWrheqeD-G5pB2fZ-_UbjhYaCCubdH4vj_YY/s200/Daily%2520Show.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366553409701297250" border="0" />beating out real newscasters Brian Williams of NBC (29%), ABC’s Charles Gibson (19%), and CBS’ Katie Couric (7%), it's evident the pundits haven't merely found a place alongside news—they've replaced it altogether.<br /><br />Just as there is power in the facts, there is power in opinion. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YUu_50FIPKhUr2nQaEA8F-8DIhiW4EdFOao8xbjknsaXm_cKaGZZGusVa1g-ZphF5E0xdmW39v29ypsx5Fh0nwbZnXN17_OYo4mZr2UGd3hyphenhyphenUMtCSs83pw-dxbGSPyjD6YnR81wOUCo/s200/qqxsgWalterCronkite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366634906805167682" border="0" />But for all he brought to network news, the moment Cronkite allowed the two to become intertwined, he unwittingly brought an end to the ‘golden era’ of TV journalism that he had come to define…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbbU9nSVcuK7sl4omGHPDOyrmoARZ1l38NjSnCLzaYHk-NaEC-2o645IOf7Cy6GDPXx_5jgHvIFDD5AeBdY6pFCB_hBg9AMF2oFLFa6fueseSCEnMPULrOihXF3N5skOvw-CM2VCe13E/s200/Dylan+hobo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366546835858373090" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">In the days of old, in the days of gold</span>;<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">How oft’ times I repine for the days of old;</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of ‘49.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-91493624272020572822009-07-26T10:18:00.000-07:002009-08-05T11:23:17.090-07:00“Here Comes the Story of the Hurricane”: Barack Obama, Bob Dylan and the man the authorities came to blame<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Just like the time before and the time before that.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">In Paterson that’s just the way things go.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">less you wanna draw the heat.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><br />President Obama called it a “teachable moment.” Noted African American scholar and Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr., pointed to his arrest for <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8CbM7nNoKMHtnol92JbGokt1KrgsnX9Bbm5IXmnYqq0jUPupERx9jFwN-2doRqP4Rvskn8InZo6uaAwZXNExBeGTtwMFiLeQHRHtbvCHtjFxs3IV1FmQJ0qAywKFdgNBYzJc-56yAroI/s200/gates_mug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363934623572867170" border="0" />disturbing the peace in his own home as an example of “what it’s like to be a black man in America.”<br /><br />And while Gates’ indignation was intended to be self referential, President Obama’s <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wrANX4UexSVGvV-lK-bZ3N5bf9zP2_-2RMjSrHxge4ZbDTrtFWOCPc1TRq0M70_gSlDIzd79I3psF0PUCgLVCf-pjUIg9jFqx74tSZEOvNJgeNeqtGWPOZjyOUVinMmxMgeSPbaxsJo/s200/ObamaFirstPressConference09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363934917036120994" border="0" />equally indignant comment that the Cambridge police had ‘acted stupidly’ in their treatment of Gates may very well have provided the first glimpse into what it’s like to be a black <span style="font-style: italic;">president</span> in America.<br /><br />During the campaign, Obama went out of his way to avoid the issue of race. And to his credit, relegating race to the back burner allowed more pressing issues<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQEqpofRFfEHzFWQL4FqI1Wh6KmMqOvzI43Rm21fFyJMuPhHgm0zYLLf7eaOzR2xNPbRe27jBpn7u4b9vCSQD9bJ60UJMfc5Ku7OMdqNS1u9wBT5TGur60IE2P2OsaCSlndM6bYpf9uI/s200/jeremiah+wright.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363935232637424370" border="0" /> like heath care, the economy, and the war in Iraq to take precedent. In fact, it was only in the midst of the infamous Jeremiah Wright incident, when the issue of race threatened to boil over, that Obama was forced to chime in on the topic. By all accounts (including those of Professor Gates), Obama didn’t just tackle the issue of racism in American, he transcended it.<br /><br />But the cool, ethereal detachment Obama displayed during the campaign was decidedly absent last week as the president allowed himself to be drawn in.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZn1KpWswRf4VpvfBXLd0cRxdFpN9Aqop0L_pTfhYD0lhvUOAm4vh4SkpMN0F4HHOsRAYC8Ww21I0d_rbslmANwXYYPV1Qt8LDMTwO-EU9PT30ujepO6YooJB1i00pUXKwoSevt2w8lo/s200/Obama_thinking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363935830708123026" border="0" />And while Obama appeared to have acted impetuously when he broke from his seemingly perpetual tranquil state, the truth is that racial profiling—what many have placed at the epicenter of the Gates’ controversy—is an issue to which the president has given considerable thought.<br /><br />While in the Illinois legislature <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1fCExEmJEorCmIqtHlRk_4K3M_pTU5TGsI9MO2bk-xJhUoxPiuJ6MLp5Brbj-8mRL_qdr4Qrr2lTIpTp-7mQ3UrmsBDV25hFN1ziQoUb7hu9wwwK1644aHnfFx0ShourZ7IOnQgomAk/s200/obama+illinois+times.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363936105584295538" border="0" />Obama was the chief sponsor of a bill, which eventually became law, that requires police to record the race, age and gender of all drivers stopped for traffic violations. The data collected is then analyzed with the intent of deterring racial profiling.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 87px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYnHW7e8GsLeOYk3iNWEJAI9wnTaPY_UKJbUH8SSTBqF3aPhEbDd619bFb0I7TOEllsa42qz5xX6600uNfKbEJlObf9cN09zfhFdvRNE5Nb7VgaYnITXBxK_MLoJp8MkYDW3PmaAYkWA/s200/Obama-Teaching.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363936376216069634" border="0" />And while Obama’s authoring of the racial profiling bill may explain his ‘stupid’ response to the arrest of Professor Gates, it did little to transform the incident into the “teachable moment” the president had hoped it would become. Unless, of course, the lesson was how to exploit a <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 93px; height: 76px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7IZv68ol8qIwx2OKga8ukZBne1V2T_o8XV7w6it7z5SlCTlieUzptgCczf8DjOSVlsu29hvm66U9yk9cCs3_nOzwKZnw-lsDT5NZvaohM1dVSISnJM9hEXxvYcY31ZMwFHxS7SG63Oo/s200/ReportCard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363936503890887554" border="0" />tenuous situation for the political and professional gain… in which case President Obama and Professor Gates both passed with flying colors.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzp1sS7nk-izgsXh6cN5t1qNorzGd23LVO_nI5y2vpgBCn3dsUEaFjojw_n1ZnxYKC5cREKHsR52AAASKfLKuEEmoOJMU51qIbiFefM1cKHplnBsNVvNmohRgidFdfLY-xWpvxFsk5Lk/s200/Obama+hands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363936723662411218" border="0" />For Obama, the arrest of Henry Louis Gates was a striking example of racial discrimination that he had hoped he could point to from a distance without have to become embroiled in the politically decisive issue. Of course, no one expected Obama to actually show his true colors on the topic. Judging from the amount of language 'recalibration' Obama has done over the last week, that assessment extends to the president himself.<br /><br />For Henry Louis Gates, the front porch skirmish, which would have said volumes about the status of race relations in this country without Gates <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpEeifinyjlZ2hiH9T8_f2mZanLD3ezVKxJDUvewiVRMBkDhhpxKGZeOFx1SC86SoDWUJYNyukrg04kQHAXIhtJI6VZ5406ofYQbsiTCZntZO4TQlMFXw6kYjaAFJRfcF-TqUYSqIs4Q/s200/23gates.arrest_650.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363936939591531506" border="0" />having to ever even have said a word, has been reduced to little more than the impetus for his next project—a PBS documentary on, you guessed it… racial profiling. And so, in both instances, what could have been a real moment of clarity was instead sadly and selfishly squandered.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 83px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvFHF_Oik3kWYjrwe6ayGu6G2RrxkXvT1W6nbPoTbOMQvTGp3cPjTK9318FJiNsQOCj4vxcIXK_Y0OvuVeljVg-sJl0_tn-kYKKaWJ1Jd-WvkeHYDBdZGI33ZJzJuKvECBITvRAXzsGY/s200/carterdylanprison.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363937240270476306" border="0" />Of course, the exploitation of race for personal gain is not just limited to politicians and Ivy League professors. It turns out pop stars are prone to it, too.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknrEFLD-BC6wl572xXAn-d4n7geqph1CtHDlgijpk28E1ZHgXrUKbqmRIvXkOebJKioSBhOo2HksnQ4iOpH5OEDo-pE_vHsZb8hBZD7Y48xvXKkBo8Ve_Du4wM3dOa0Uu6P_MJexVRPc/s200/carterrobe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363937514272197282" border="0" />Certainly, Bob Dylan fell prey to the polarizing issue of racial profiling in the fall of 1975 when he championed the cause of a middleweight boxer by the name of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. The song, which maintained C<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjEQC6QpdzqP59uz-GzKUMVIBwcRgUAu9NWV0_-xnpUorUQlyLUVo7oNxK0QHmnUFYHRpo01arSdhmR9w88KDJyv9Iwo60PVr81b-sbdO_Sj-oeWb7yV08T8Sto08jeeOcpsSPdxwvEP0/s1600-h/RaceCard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 69px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjEQC6QpdzqP59uz-GzKUMVIBwcRgUAu9NWV0_-xnpUorUQlyLUVo7oNxK0QHmnUFYHRpo01arSdhmR9w88KDJyv9Iwo60PVr81b-sbdO_Sj-oeWb7yV08T8Sto08jeeOcpsSPdxwvEP0/s200/RaceCard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363937692967062370" border="0" /></a>arter had been wrongfully charged and sentenced on three counts of murder, played the race card in ways that would have made OJ’s defense team cringe.<br /><br />And while many of Dylan’s claims, including the assertion <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitev4INWPyQEuANoum2r8QxDu4nAococDUCJ7gejyO2qQPx8IQ8ticC9pRodNfAnMHFN0Uf2qZXSBHCG_8zapOeghawq6z7KdzquCZRRk2W5Usc2jBhyphenhyphenBGfunzbNyZAwv-dZZ-xN_eJLc/s200/hurricane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363937928672050898" border="0" />that Carter could have at one time “been champion of the world” were clearly self-congratulatory exaggerations employed to bolster a case for injustice, in the end it hardly mattered.<br /><br />The mere fact Dylan had put pen to paper in<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 107px; height: 107px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEXzjSrmorZKfjw4o3Qk0byJNw7cO5PQaWsrHWdk0_1oNUJiNIw8frX26c_7AjJKoEaeveiSUIEIr0qUmM0vVQgyNepsNmA6SS1qj45dcTf2Cu-PEX5na2hZrYgcI5u5ULEhTZgy-f4s/s200/Bob+Dylan+-+Desire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363938170680585986" border="0" /> defense of the beleaguered boxer elevated Carter’s plight to mythical proportion. It did marvels for Dylan's career, too. The song would go on to become one of his most popular; <span style="font-style: italic;">Desire</span>, the album on which it appeared, one of his biggest sellers.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZw584cBJyJx4-HD3SmanIfoZCPsY-NlRjbAWAthOXnJ8eEOUBvLdGAU_S3ON7pogJw6W81lsoSsjHYjv-VAS8pK7DHnfcDjrP1zBhms0S4Xlt4lq3xSrtKcCOXloh8wun9KjUuM2bns/s200/Black-man-on-suitcase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363939044176676242" border="0" />The issue of race in America may very be the most morally debasing issue our country has had to confront over our 200-plus year history. And even though Obama and Gates missed an opportunity last week to educate and enlighten on that issue much in the same way Dylan missed his own ‘teachable moment’ 35 years ago, there’s no question we’ve come a long way when it comes to our attitude on race in America.<br /><br />And while those in power may occasionally play loose and free with the facts to advance the side they’re on, it’s refreshing to see the side they're on is the right one…<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">How can the life of such a man</span><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStoX4r_OMpGheFCfJ8G_ztH-3quJGOarioigbZTnW2il_d5fBcOA6nLLgFvvnQfX6Y5uhj2fCTd4ofMF4snLALggsiA59APPXkw9AF-uBnhBdynzmLKKbqFZxJVE0vIXuR8vvapRNtfw/s200/dylan-obamicon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363939332706562386" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Be in the palm of some fools hand? </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">To see him obviously framed</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Where justice is a game.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-42004438167262529802009-07-21T11:29:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:21:05.057-07:00“Going, Going, Gone”: The Kindle, disappearing digital content and the ever-enduring Bob Dylan<span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />I'm closin' the book</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />On the pages and the text</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />And I don't really care</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />What happens next.</span><br /><br />Iran was back in the news again last week when a court ruled that Mohsen Namjoo, <img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:200px;height:113px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAC2xNEpkwozhqHTniGZrVWxqlM-eJPjoA2-5LadwIockQsOtFkSfOWIaCdRqextWGLUVj1D_oebtvFH8ifG62VnXiVzW08ORIcb_t3c-wj9ejSeF4kn49KL8hMI7j3wyO9C9wPYuokc/s200/Mohsen-Namjoo-Hamshahry.jpg" alt="" border="0" />an Iranian singer-songwriter who has been likened to “an Iranian Bob Dylan,” was sentenced to five years in prison for recording music that "dishonors" passages from the Qur'an.<br /><br />And while the prosecution of Persia’s own <img style="float:left;cursor:pointer;width:125px;height:115px;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxcpM22LUvPCKQp8txCl1y628RyfjnhEncBEh0NCfzqp-h9EGTejfjVyanGw6hGL9wRps478La4h-UyDL3J2WwlG87MFntEfKsRwc0edfUtUFgwIQ5oQblf0bfjgHFstIDncv7s35SLA/s200/Bezos_KindleEX.jpg" alt="" border="0" />“poet of a generation” is just another glaring example of Iran's tyrannical theocracy run amok, it turns out the sentencing of Namjoo wasn’t the most flagrant suppression of free through to have occurred last week.<br /><br />That distinction goes to Jeff Bezos, founder of online book behemoth, Amazon.com.<br /><br />Last Friday, as Namjoo was learning he had been sentenced<img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:95px;height:113px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rzm4IB5RY-df5AgQeuwcGmRQbKeD2Q6z2nK0xbzoEmbcnJV60j_lGegPPjefbnRzTXxoHS_hsEOqK-plSnrEMxI4ZgUFyemLLMKKT4lU4WflVWs_pusLK8oIGo31tgI8sZFmg3nbzm8/s200/george-orwell-on-kindle.jpg" alt="" border="0" /> to five years in prison for "his unconventional singing" of the Muslim holy book, hundreds of Kindle owners woke up to discover that two books they <span style="font-style:italic;">thought</span> they had bought and paid for had, in fact, only been paid for.<br /><br />It seems that what Amazon selleth, apparently Amazon can taketh away. And that’s precisely what happened.<br /><br /><img style="float:left;cursor:pointer;width:117px;height:139px;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXz4TALYhagffHyaX19zhvFNe_vqcJtEo6GuXG0E2fAY_sDXXudf3SxLSZ6tn6aE30rG1HWiMNRGPdZrLHBWA3T4QOffmQ6VQxTV7aRG6rCiQ5rAWfF5j1iMnXfODbFn3TeKaTDnuZFbA/s200/bezos_kindle.jpg" alt="" border="0" />Jeff Bezos has long been a proponent of the dissemination of digital content. For Bezos, the notion of delivering content (read: the millions of books Amazon sells) to anyone, anywhere, anytime has been more than a catchy mantra—it’s been a personal mission of sorts. And with the launch of the Amazon Kindle this past March that mission was by-and-large realized. But at what cost?<br /><br />Those who anted up to buy the popular e-book reader, apparently. And while Amazon’s decision to surreptitiously remove content from the Kindle was hardly the best move from a public relations perspective, Amazon did nothing illegal.<br /><br /><img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:144px;height:93px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRwaZMgoeATQh0bVhyd0GkXUtMtWjhLZzBdlJw5fKO_L0Rl2urFhyphenhyphenthPVao0kcSr4JrZSCblaUxP3Q4z4BOtBO2iu5HMbdFcgiQE4mpTmYGhH1nfncJFq8opoQ8HHplD4M_f8fDAQ5xY/s200/DRM.jpg" alt="" border="0" />It turns out that when you “buy” an electronic copy of anything—a song, a book, a movie, it doesn't matter—you don’t actually own that copy free and clear. It is encumbered by something called digital rights management software, or DRM.<br /><br />Most of us have never heard the term, DRM, and nine times out of ten it doesn’t matter.<br /><br /><img style="float:left;cursor:pointer;width:72px;height:119px;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6y9yweXUt0-fUdV9hVaVtFtY2F5voKGa3OnLhmmkCEj_xy638cxkgdi_L7LRKefyGT6GfPNUqZ6q5gQ-LvgaaiUqmtp-y9cbE40ZA8eFiPvSqZuJQNeKYL6gB8KyhNogFbOFkhJplUM/s200/officetunes.jpg" alt="" border="0" />The new Britney Spears single, Dan Brown’s latest literary endeavor, the most recent episode of “The Office” shuffled off to our iPods— we paid for it, which presumably gives us the right to listen or watch it when we like, where we like, and with whom we like. Sort of.<br /><br />As counterintuitive as it may seem, you don’t actually <span style="font-style:italic;">own</span> digital content encrypted with DRM. You are for all intent and purposes <span style="font-style:italic;">renting</span> it.<br /><br />Again, nine times out of ten not a problem. But it can cause some serious issues when the person who <span style="font-style:italic;">truly</span> owns that content (in this case the publisher) decides to renege on the rental agreement.<br /><img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:89px;height:112px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkyxQ9RJbr9Isl6m05N-ZzYlyEH-yCkSqnqbgJEtku_GEZqF5yJWw5G5yumCrdjml-ih-yU_C_5ZwDGy9FDG8UdOr_MRSQjy-8WcgJyKMVRWohfwlyQQBBglKAQkQEMmXMfrtj-A93J8I/s200/penguin+publisher.gif" alt="" border="0" /><br />It turns out this is precisely what happened last Friday with Penguin, the publisher of the titles in question, forcing Amazon to recall the books without insomuch as a warning.<br /><br />There's no question Jeff Bezos is a visionary. But in looking to the future, even he is tethered to the fact that he must keep his content providers—aka the publishers—happy. And so when the Penguin Group decided not to offer an electronic editions of the books, Bezos caved.<br /><br />Amazon’s Communications Director, Drew Herdener, issued a statement claiming that the books were added by an outfit that didn’t have the<img style="float:left;cursor:pointer;width:141px;height:158px;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2QvD2_3ct6LKSNMsxRFwktsaN0GOUL6utmvTt5xtV5LqlD5GTaeNYI3oDi_F8zBEiK7wZqFliayhMziUKO0jYMm1xMm42okKP8gEhqkoek34Hsvb8EQBXD8zrFZwS-DsWWoHBsaweg0/s200/Big+Brother+Kindle.jpg" alt="" border="0" /> rights to the material in the first place. Plausible enough, I suppose. But the fact that Amazon can remove content at their sole discretion, effectively assuming the role of a modern-day, Orwellian Big Brother is the real looming danger. And herein enters the irony.<br /><br /><img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:88px;height:144px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9qpQ5Hi9525qhYQtqdvL6bwTzyx_PZalguUX0sW6-4Sk0ti0QIe_bQunmohXeRQlYl-F1zVymasOu_bC6V47wqYp4edtMNfEFWzQLCblzUuaTO0G5kQzsa5fMTzegfMC8SlscbgDtzk/s200/1984cover.jpg" alt="" border="0" />The two titles that Amazon effectively ‘banned’ by removing them from the Kindle with a simple flick of the switch? <span style="font-style:italic;"><br /><br />1984 </span>and <span style="font-style:italic;">Animal Farm</span>—perhaps two of the 20th century’s most harrowing examples of the totalitarian suppression of free thought.<br /><br />Kudos to you, Jeff Bezos. Your prophetic vision of a digital utopia has been fully realized. Thanks to devices like the Kindle, content flows freely to anyone, anywhere, anytime. And now we know who will be the guardian of that content. It seems 2009 will be like nineteen eight-four, after all.<br /><br />Fortunately, there are people like <img style="float:left;cursor:pointer;width:86px;height:94px;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBzgK-OJf9p0-5JQbWA20UXZJzNiS7uIGsL0DV6rCF06rkL1SvGL60g9n6GzKb6CmeimN5aDkKRSrz7t1IhcOOaLdyEGaO6KAFSP-FAYefu9eyRfr8IApdvVnIV64TebRCsnm03f-81Kw/s200/Mohsen-Namjoo2.jpg" alt="" border="0" />Mohsen Namjoo and Bob Dylan—iconoclasts of change with prophetic messages of their own—who will continue to fight to make sure that whoever controls the message can never control the messenger, no matter how it may be delivered…<br /><br /><img style="float:right;cursor:pointer;width:101px;height:158px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFCa8rfMIX9k0xe26D8PMCv8zb0iCnPBqHblxwRKsia8uq7Ik46advXsTkEZGyJ9AOlEuiKJOoF0cpKUEQwQ0me4Ho7Frqz_Q2xjcdALEuCWYQ04IX2oWYK0o6ve24AWigoB4UL1penI/s200/Dylan+cap.bmp" alt="" border="0" /><span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;">I been hangin' on threads,</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;">I been playin' it straight,</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />Now, I've just got to cut loose</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />Before it gets late.</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />So I'm going,</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />I'm going,</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;font-style:italic;"><br />I'm gone.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-20484272893071400012009-07-12T15:10:00.000-07:002009-07-21T12:00:34.177-07:00“Mountains in the Palm of Her Hand”: Has Sarah Palin thrown it all away?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Once I had mountains in the palm of my hand,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />And rivers that ran through ev'ry day.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I must have been mad,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I never knew what I had,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Until I threw it all away.</span><br /><br />It’s hard to believe over 40 years have passed since Bob Dylan <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4czZ3ElsVGTRti2-0Pm5P9teaLdJZUpA9STTGDxX8sujqbpFsfPFRPXwZWaXALLxLrJyof7Tm0EalhmI4LBQ01ct1ag0jIVeyZbQhfFH1M7xrG0EfoYj3nRubZK1Cz8RcpVSZdNFiDA/s200/triumph_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359185417449658130" border="0" />threatened to walk away from the music business. But that’s precisely what happened in the days following the July 29, 1966, motorcycle accident that nearly claimed the singer’s life.<br /><br />And while it’s unclear exactly what happened that fateful morning—the details surrounding the 500cc<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ooOckBSSS2mkbeRhXIsGyki10GMfwsGQZ3-3ZYpM9WbvhGUOeMJf61RvMeHwmiwj_soaPZGYRFVPeNZTgO4NItRSMSELmAgCT5QqDCkvo_Vs6_G4pE-Vh0FkN9T6S3KV7PaeA8MpWZQ/s200/Dylan+woodstock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359186315981222850" border="0" /> Triumph Tiger 100 motorcycle Dylan crashed on a road near his home in upstate New York have always been sketchy at best—whatever transpired was enough to force the reclusive singer to reexamine his priorities.<br /><br />In a way, the examination was long overdue.<br /><br />By all accounts the ’66 tour of Europe had been grueling. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2d3FZav9ILbbRbtsr4J5qBamIEExXMxMb08_JQmZHRd58NmCffJJJUHQh8xHyq-djTyPX833oE1LUR9W3WGkR0UjmaXkZJbZGjrgC5EBC6Ezvc0-VRvgc8K-7aUBxp5BMYgi_Vj0BfjQ/s200/Dylan+judas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359187790435617858" border="0" />And while Dylan may have had mountains in the palm of his hand in terms of his creative prowess, he was demonized nearly every night, forced to endure irate fans who were determined to deter Dylan’s new musical direction with jeers of “Judas!” on more than one occasion.<br /><br />But now that the tour had come to close, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFmZ2Wje28aI-g4zuCa73dPKdQ220Z-V_vFXhqRyOodhDJf9LUxGwhtF5HeY2zaoBcSzuSNETzixFiGoFctMv6RlZ2YdAzrjzW3QiMW1mvsSTJ7J-g95s8t2FE1aBqoQsN2fEVfwB9tQ/s200/bobsarababy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359188391096824498" border="0" />Dylan was looking forward to spending some time with his new bride, fashion model Sara Lownds, whom he had secretly married the previous November.<br /><br />Intent on seeking shelter from the storm, Dylan retreated to a provincial farmhouse in Woodstock. It turns out the months that followed turned out to be some of the most tumultuous of his life.<br /><br />From the moment Dylan had arrived in Greenwich Village in the winter of 1963, he had dutifully carried the torch for the folk movement. And while Dylan had never masked his disdain for the moniker, <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKHLimqAarLbNirmIsw01pUL6sq-VnerQOVlxLA0Zusbvekc1TELY0xxuiEAkkhsfR-HPdr0lktKo2ROKdkyNWHTMh_O1CSHKonOYVY0eLgu7mg3DHepY-oU8n2-i0YcxN71MVmZXh-I/s200/dylan_feinstein.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359187413024562658" border="0" />“voice of a generation,” by the summer of 1966, it was evident that his audience’s insatiable appetite for all things ‘Dylan’ was beginning to take a rapacious toll on him.<br /><br />The motorcycle accident hardly helped matters.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNX2fvUXKhrDiBPshZHL85nXB9BJkxmhfJ_DYSQp-guZQKII09in6rxm_znBI5_s7W6Sldh4oc6WrFBpD1dvCQd2vWN2rJacIZA-gJbu7us-APGI8tvzR4l1YxTV9UZl96MmNz_s4n9fM/s200/RS012~Bob-Dylan-Rolling-Stone-no-12-June-1968-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359189839322390802" border="0" />Overnight Bob was besieged with questions. Was the accident a cover for another drag-addled rock star whose addiction had gotten the better of him? Was the whole incident a carefully calculated publicity stunt designed to increase speculation around Dylan’s next creative endeavor? Would there even be another endeavor?<br /><br />In the end, however, it wasn’t what had actually happened that early summer morning that<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 106px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioB5sR7HuK_nGv8M5ldc63Ng17kn1RlEVE28N13YPXVBq-WWh2y11JbUfpyiKInCVysoA-HcavoUzyWXbkx0Q4ym2OcxCjmdOvA73EFiMH54Q9QfNPRfUlsmTSxNBzYWjTkiq6B1Uy7j4/s200/bob-dylan%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191349328915186" border="0" /> kept Dylan’s legions of devoted fans up at night— it was the incessant speculation on what might have happened. Conjecture, it turns out, was the biggest contributor to a rapidly mounting mystique that all but eclipsed the notoriously ascetic artist.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7Y3ABVvi47Vq_IVERmDPqgqF6gWLx0NqCWZqTLDuXCMGY_3L4kxgOo_sTkBO7HnK7FXQjoG7VeSrkk1bsaT-B-DcXd10-9fSRAQ8yItdwkyKc9QRNlYjNmE9aMURKbKkCcxG7nCUBww/s200/Palin+quits.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359192597917947602" border="0" />Nearly 40 years later, a new conundrum has captured America's imagination. But instead of unfolding in the solitary the woods of Woodstock, this one is taking place in the open wilds of Alaska.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgNRieqMLm8H2P2A-C4DYyDYbZX42w_fxjosF4jpdl0mXUQrP5xlvypxzMBzyidsetoEK3QFLlWwnvXmtZlT9Vs3SGrZqxmZZo9u_0laSMamPzE2ZfUlEvgRAGvrE3mmHZ4cx2YiQG64/s200/sarah-palin-vogue-magazine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359194380508106386" border="0" />Sarah Palin’s July 3 press conference in which she announced that she would resign as governor of Alaska was so surrealistic that one had to wonder if Palin had momentarily mistaken herself as Patti Blagojevich’s replacement on “I’m a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here.”<br /><br />Bar a complete mental meltdown—<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmI5c9nEuhFJ2XVXRDNRyKJv9Cs7GWEfh_Zoq0-2Mjj-kUJ0a7p_7IDcaKXSm7yqaZgiDb-T-UwZdKj-e_wvhwh6mO-W7cdALsML4HI-6BkrBNnJOt-vzEG-ovlIsey2voI-1v7FRbUY/s200/sarah_palin_makeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359193988391822146" border="0" />something that even her most staunch supporters haven’t completely ruled out—clearly there’s more to the story than the wily politician from Wasilla is letting on. But anyone who patently dismisses Palin’s penchant for the dramatic is missing the point of her decidedly populist appeal.<br /><br />Ever since she stepped on that stage at the Republican Convention<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 106px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPdZItl5Bsh2Q70EK-iMwE6BSRKe5m6bjKtxbjnLbha20eMIuxyAPuC8YRsFb_TomRrZrmYwQD0d_EQnXMiuaiPOzgGrMkD2GdxgSQqqRMf5BtmM0dR-nz5gXiMQsKA0foq7xNECNH0o/s200/palin+blows+kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359194857556369602" border="0" /> in Minneapolis, Palin has taken to fame like a fish to water. In hindsight, however, perhaps Palin’s aversion to being labeled “a dead fish who goes with the flow” makes perfect sense. After all, when it comes to fame and adulation, nobody drinks it in better than Sarah Palin.<br /><br />Watching Sarah Palin’s meteoric rise over the last year has been a lot like watching a tightrope walker navigate the hazards of the high wire. Her ability to balance her own ego with the ever-increasing aspirations of Republican Party is a marvel to behold.<br /><br />Her performance last week, in which she<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVr1c25T_pCAA2Z13eb1I3MYrOx5UP50Nc_Dt0FuGGnLQvVXCFkFFg9g-wgmrTa6gLfUL2QPWrZuXaSniazGIzqGCdTox1TvxpLCv2aYbUu11CYXZQakozfni2bmfsYsU10_IvuVnqYSw/s200/sarah+palin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359195145996826578" border="0" /> cobbled together a series of incongruous sports analogies in an attempt to explain how abandoning a state in crisis translates to the type of leadership she can offer a nation in peril, was definitely a swing for the fences. In the end, however, Palin struck out big time. Though time will tell how much America’s favorite MILF’s recent muff dive will tarnish her once unmistakable luminous quality.<br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 61px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPA5cnRqvFI9D4aUQR0yh85dQfRgssbQVqwGolSOr4fhCZLDMsG5dEuz8u95MI8Xo3uIBo7EXl-0fiEEH6K6jG5FMaCDI6XIApiO3LydiUYzImlfiN0WhEE9LRJdwSlUb-abYnF7t3e4/s200/sarah-palin-nope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359195896355174082" border="0" /><br />And so we are left pondering the question: Was Palin throwing in the towel, or throwing her hat in the ring for 2012 political season?<br /><br />Conjecture has always<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXW_Vyx07_n2YHOXcQQA0BJTYNIxVYKzULkqj0f3S2UsUlwr6lGOmNAdLwPJR5QNxPflh4w3JlqlADYbkKuglP94r2-syFeJX1ZAQVgHVP2E41j_QRDk8fF5oUBneN6q4VOEBp2Qi7DY/s200/Dylan_VF.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359195545157991314" border="0" /> been a critical component to the ‘Dylan mystique.’ Second-guessing what’s going on inside Dylan’s brain is precisely what makes him such an appealing and enigmatic figure. If the events of last week are any indication, a speculative glimpse inside the mind of Sarah Palin is clearly a far more trepidatious trip.<br /><br />But even if we were able to unravel Palin’s convoluted, incoherent ramblings, how can anyone expect Palin to move mountains for the Republican Party when she can't even figure out why she's walking away from them…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir82vcpqXp-fSU41OMnAr73n7CZDLscFgFeE4WMjgvRsHAmVHChqLu6CzaRyoGYr_2OA05aQ15dbSZYll-ysG8iJWcLe1SQlB183UvfRAsN4O-0H1pfkz9fK63lIb9b8YlONSr2hhLz1w/s200/dylan1966b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359196305928133250" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">So if you find someone that gives you all of her love,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Take it to your heart, don't let it stray,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">For one thing that's certain,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">You will surely be a-hurtin',</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />If you throw it all away.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-61412012956243913622009-07-05T07:05:00.000-07:002009-07-16T15:59:27.083-07:00“Romance in Durango”: A Dylanesque dilettante or Mark Sanford’s swansong?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Soon the horse will take us to Durango</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Agarrame mi vida</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Soon the desert will be gone</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Soon you will be dancing the fandango.</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZjdDw4bND8EHNb8ZgSgbtGUYmNamSg_RUP-nlNQsxvperTP2gh1GAGyu83exxBVIFMIkPBSDnhqN7NNwtIl1TkwKzRGwZK2opDVbi6aPEiWTJ-TSiI1PUvdOhbJE8dhfpdr3beZLECWk/s200/tango.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356093667125114210" border="0" />It looks like it just may be time to retire the old adage, “It takes two to Tango.”<br /><br />Apparently, if you’re Mark Sanford, it only takes one.<br /><br />Dancing solo lat week before a room full of <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2lriMn0emZeXBkKe8KWvw1R2InbkIRaIYgNfo30peBGUvatKTKI4_LFOat7RH5ukK8MV1hq4-3kX_qeL1Kz18mI_BRKJnGwTzV8-_c3d2icJ-0d-Sz-bPzq1X-H3Ezpb1fhoj4BqeaU/s200/fnc_20090624_sanford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356093191147291842" border="0" />AP reporters, the scandal-emblazoned South Carolina Governor put his best foot forward, addressing head on the allegations of a romantic rendezvous with Argentinean newscaster Maria Belen Chapur.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7asXnWD_Ws98qLYak5c335NK-nlO9S-9Cs7nQbtC_1FZKoFtvt7zWksy5iCftDgjGtWtEi2DrsU1guGWLMxPoKsws5Co2h7VURVnRV2S4BxjSWbMspZXuEiD0HNF4cRxMjYN8qwcMgs/s200/clintondeposition.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356093363018477954" border="0" />Not since Bill Clinton’s contemptuous, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” declaration at the height of his own sex scandal has a politician engaged in such a virtuoso performance.<br /><br />And while Sanford exhibited<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 108px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyVr_QBQYaX6nSOhbvjs4BOOb_PYSee5XbvxFcRrL7p3M1lk75WP_ThvMyZNhq9BNofv_cYZvf2DO2LxG5UwaKoj4zpsNqRJ0kFoua82F72ZNhHG07NunM-4qojRW632dkAkXFLO6G9s/s200/Gov-Mark-Sanford-58744.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356093793075322034" border="0" /> none of the suave, smooth moves that made Bill Clinton a poster boy of cool, ethereal detachment, the governor’s response to doing the hokey poky did share one similarity with Clinton's infamous finger-wagging incident: both engaged in a breath-taking dance to the death.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuzNo2bj5-4Hrx8UhRCH9OW_OgqzH1_hSExspb9qeFQs9lCSW2osFVqvg9WL1803_GVTT4eRdvTkMhQ3-gQ7zSL4NJhDi48_bEPdnu2dWR7h31tK4KrvaeMSX5YZy2l17YsJ0_suEk2k/s1600-h/Sex+Scandal.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 108px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuzNo2bj5-4Hrx8UhRCH9OW_OgqzH1_hSExspb9qeFQs9lCSW2osFVqvg9WL1803_GVTT4eRdvTkMhQ3-gQ7zSL4NJhDi48_bEPdnu2dWR7h31tK4KrvaeMSX5YZy2l17YsJ0_suEk2k/s200/Sex+Scandal.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356094536629213026" border="0" /></a>In hindsight, Sanford’s strategy seemed sound enough. Tell the press everything, and hope that by not sidestepping the charges of infidelity the media will forgive you of your trespasses.<br /><br />It hasn’t quite worked out that way.<br /><br />In fact, Sanford’s <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0Ravi5wFIAJwRBdih_S4qoH3yZbW27G8OhNBPyD-YiHoKpcuFQkgaveVF66VwpWV4EZ4dPNcbUUAhzN-phUgIT_UA2SicwZSu5GdmxP4UCP6Gu8AKp1w2tmycwlDfgsCCrCmoFftp-o/s200/24sanford_480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356097463906645730" border="0" />decision to abandon the expected soft-shoe approach and come clean has completely cleared the dance floor of any prospective partners other than his own ravenous guilt.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The wife.</span> Having had a hand in nearly every facet of her husband's <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1P2xFZuVUcEah5_lBxKym_zhD67Gc7f4L3cYlPgeeCFoilTjJbDKQdBfTyiH9bW2Y1nFr9fe-wVKTTOift5Kl4U67hIVycwFQw7GmLhXKdH8-fYucGSoNe2ggWFQNNmQeYgNq_JQFBA/s200/tammy_wynette.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356095580526035474" border="0" />ascent to the pinnacle of South Carolina politics, no one is going to mistake Jenny Sanford for a wallflower. Yet despite her understated approach to managing her husband’s affairs, chances are she won’t be stepping out of the shadows singing Tammy Wynette’s magnanimous marital mantra, “Stand By Your Man,” any time soon.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 86px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PV9Cox8F0bLO0s-rN7HrHH0HOgSeHqZr-oepZKjw4srisG1zbvgpp8R5ZJjNBOodfaBZuYeij6EnI7S_bMqpaOZ4ATj0WPzCkxz0JUews9m54AWqBsjzGJE2FacRyV8vca9L2iXNXo8/s200/state.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356095712604354130" border="0" /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The GOP</span>. </span>Members of the Republican party also seem to recognize that following the Governor’s lead is probably isn’t the best course of action, either. To date, 14 of the 27 Republicans in the state Senate, and at least six newspapers have called for the governor to step down.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The other woman.</span> </span>And what about <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja34uEqQ83ep40iay3XBGilgdNTARUFWfieHHNmT8nUEmzrw5fuO198sLKfRIwux1ItFsKJjJBKcvLoujYfD6dEuMHLGnEdNfD9Tuo7KBOu546_XPNw6VYzWBmIJTle0hNhKBm2dG-uW8/s200/chapur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356095811684687906" border="0" />Maria Belen Chapur? Exactly where does the Argentinean beauty at the heart of this whole sordid affair stand on the issue? Sanford’s hot tamale isn’t talking. Bar extradition, she’s made it clear she plans to stay put on the Patagonia.<br /><br />And so, with no one willing<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3BwW0NgZQbuzBBpQ1ystl0M4ghk_L0w5TNFSo9aJROcnfJsQqKCsYhrrPnSDKw6Aeh12H3GMr2BgzfwKkSl_vPE542FCgzMFbyOlRlpr6cRIy0IltTq6wcZssyNK2u5RkiXXIWh48FBI/s200/godwin_bible460.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356096050645851826" border="0" /> to take a turn on the dance floor, Sanford turned to the pages of the Good Book for companionship, citing a parallel between his plight and that of the world’s most infamous adulterer. "[King] David failed, literally, and yet he reconstructed his life," Sanford recently told reporters.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp67shSJXkg2fkK_Lo0jZnCJzTRf3ERY3g4Q52sPJt93G3V7taxY5ViB4bBwhSyxIlGo1elhjG20RZluaWiKzOmvQLkMWrGH5GiTA6GELJArmcLSujyYAGSGPXoydehYujsuxB3jxpfac/s200/jerico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356096265781456594" border="0" />Upon reflection, however, maybe the analogy Sanford should have cited to parallel his rather precarious situation isn’t the story of David’s seduction of Bathsheba, but rather the fabled story of Jericho, in which the seemingly impermeable walls came tumbling down in ruins with the sound of a single trumpet.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_9PXnEqz7Ojb94Pgdf9T7-JnilTKGCxQbmA5lFEwlCpFmUpgAlm8l6o3ZA4unohWtMPwzJzyoSUOqZfnIjbNDkfwVQlqP1GxANau8tG5vZ1-sdMqNof07EoBY-GG5bbsZAgOU6J5l1A/s200/mark-sanford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356096571330728034" border="0" />Of course, Sanford didn’t need someone to blow the whistle on his indefensible indiscretions. He brought his world crashing down all on his own with his incessant pronouncements of unrequited love.<br /><br />And while the press certainly <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCfwNeqoalTiE5JIdg9WVGcqoNaTywdyvW8cebHkUoE6JY9X_rycO1OXsYuQo2QfdcLnqztcRCDr_iUmhBK3Q2obGFXIU7j69l7idSZ83XbcgM85OZ0jcUtxyF9CT6hPz394Tc79Lb2Y/s200/Jenny+Sanford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356095378455964658" border="0" />amplified Sanford’s overly affectionate opines for Ms. Chapur, the real problem isn’t the intense scrutiny of media. Sanford may be the consummate politician, but somewhere along the way he overlooked his most important constituent– his wife.<br /><br />There’s no question marriage is a complicated endeavor, especially for those who chose to live their lives<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZGv0Zwn33eGfi74HGnyNkpsue7glN3TCqVwmUWqxVVwIVHuX9msWzNzME9yvvWxDfKxULYWbXv_KyvAaMkVaR53Z7AARh7Mtw3t2G1yd-WVl3GVu2gXA4M1N2o-JQnnIGOzgHRoWVUU/s200/bob+dylan+sara+dylan.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356097241658661826" border="0" /> in the fish-eye lens. But the difference between a politician like Mark Sanford and a pop star like Bob Dylan mourning the memory of his “one true love” is while the former may <span style="font-style: italic;">feign</span> imperfection; the latter doesn’t have the luxury of disingenuous posturing.<br /><br />In an odd way, it's as if we want our artists to be broken and emotionally askew. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhCKYzK_LPAVwNKyOl-TVe5EoKkYTFVYs5NfkSTn5eZlKs5P2OQE6DzS9Rt2Z7epx1OS4MudtW7XUGGNkmgQ_swtT2HLOVfAeGcoA1yrbBSUy41XxCySVdROVHr1KWzGag4GwDgtkC_w/s200/r-MARK-SANFORD-large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356097615181895570" border="0" />With politicians, however, it’s different. Yes, we place them on the spotlight. But the last thing we want them to do is wither when the heat is turned up.<br /><br />Mark Sanford maintains his south of the border soirée was worth the fire he’s endured. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNOvYNG8Ap2aK-pggfG-pomzIVrgdbzi2uhNCTQPNb9dtNS3CWdZ6CBUaLOyx3gujetYJQtb422PlK_EJjznu47cO6Khl0pLLBxsL1lBHQSqOfhzLyI-e7dUMtl1vPSxnfHNkMNn7EtA/s200/soul+mate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356097924745599074" border="0" />And while the “moth to the flame” metaphor is in keeping with his undaunted persistence to be with his self-proclaimed “soul mate,” perhaps someone should remind the love-struck Sanford of this simple fact—<br /><br />While the sight of a moth flickering fecklessly around an open flame is indeed the most beautiful of dances, in the end it's the moth that gets burned…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRK8_fe4KK-LchyTj8-dEO3nDhvV2Do-PRNFvlAxtEXC4IWubnskUoDpIX33sJuJrFGShobwqGjoBkNiRoosq7WrhqEanhzT2i1S6dDhHxmsGbI1iLxboBNQQWtwU-GB64YKnx4BHyog/s200/dylan_alias.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356098149282468834" border="0" /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Dust on my face and my cape</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Me and Magdalena on the run</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I think this time we shall escape.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-37530213667813226232009-06-28T13:39:00.000-07:002009-07-08T07:11:16.257-07:00“I Shall Be Released”: Michael Jackson Dead at 50<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Standing next to me in this lonely crowd,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Is a man who swears he's not to blame.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />All day long I hear him shout so loud,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Crying out that he was framed.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Tracks-Novel-Tom-Grasty/dp/0595461808/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234807167&sr=1-1"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNSTqOY4NDASSafyTRNTZgMq2eDNIEmYPKMVEuBtFORVNauszsxXfL4XGXQ13YAWYrefq1N0ptiq73hiUuMxqITT7ZraktcFMhotaqYTblWcprOQc2On1lc8AWwtVGPJhCgnFMIzBBww/s200/Book.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352781554080847682" border="0" /></a>To paraphrase the American author, Henry Miller, "fame is a fickle thing."<br /><br />I couldn't agree more. Despite having written an entire novel revolving around the ravenous impact fame has on the famous, I still don't a clue what it's like to walk in their shoes.<br /><br />But I have spent a lot of time thinking about it.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyP0CjcXyTccStfrwQ1wQdakme5ZvOC8ybikt2aEVLsx6ICDjnp6FCzDWuNi9FwWI7wszL05JtRAZbNyIR90trATXPRryPyItXNUqIRYuGO0CQpdnxPkz6mi0TxdfrKsgd72hX8OHDEeY/s200/MJ+headline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352483902946647250" border="0" />In the wake of last Thursday's shocking death of pop sensation, Michael Jackson, I imagine we’re all going to have an opportunity to give some thought to the fickle mistress that is fame. And here's a place to start—<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 71px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCoweuBtBDjfdlHdocLhkWPcLvR1_l_lkZegvS3xwBad4oIJq1M791SpDaZLWXGxlLkhpq-gQ8zHDOSiif1NbKAlXkxebEBtdTndXcaNZJWrsXTRErx87xG6fx_aMwN2fBVJq1ZECg4c/s200/MJ+Nose.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352496896372899826" border="0" />It seems that when our cultural icons are taken from us unexpectedly as Jackson was last Thursday, our impulse is instinctual: elevate them to a pedestal while simultaneously delving into the dark crevices of their seemingly perfectly sculptured lives.<br /><br />I surmise with Michael Jackson <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 95px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vFXwhlcojh96zh2a13BQVvmHHCTZ5DqLuR9AtYGthsB1aYAh2DolZh5gQnQjTs6y7skUcLAeRIgHbms7PLHVT_SReZ5AUAWAmZbGjY0N7jO_WwPDj8DQVPpYrSSb9a0nUd3-ZCuW-Qk/s200/Josephmerrick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352780204235218834" border="0" />it will be different. Bar a surprise discovery of John Merrick’s petrified body (whose bones Jackson attempted to purchase in 1987) stashed away somewhere on MJ's 2,600 acre ranch, in all likelihood there are few, if any, skeletons left in Jacko’s closet. After all, a large part of the Jackson mystique wasn’t so much what he withheld from us as it was what he dared to show us.<br /><br />Unapologetic and undaunted, Michael Jackson was remarkably candid about his personal life. He didn’t give many interviews, but when he did he was always revealing.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7axPDvOjSASdlGGOxbsegiypl0iJDgZWPUbp76kLDxb3JkH82LP4sQ8jCA6n9LwPlvbhpvDy5JP-XP1D1sdmyodosNJ-SqTWMecIH5I8A8pikhRqqDD4BoJOfDHwGLhw6ZpHsqhGyc0c/s200/mjackson_hmed_7a_hmedium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352498263326519714" border="0" />Of course, we didn’t always like what he revealed. The 2003 admission that he slept with young boys because “they need love, too,” is hardly an endearing quality, no matter how quaintly it’s couched.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 91px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeNpgHCE_nNqqkEY5TqAi0Qnxk9n8qDVqUVmblyvDH_PbVwG9x96psUGElzG5apuLGoHWBYkzGNn0fKO92RznsG3T3NGoUcZA5IJzwnUD92PfSgm5O-MmS0uKrx2S6hd9cHGjhGMb3DM/s200/Michael+Jackson.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352499560979652402" border="0" />And while Michael Jackson’s personal demons ultimately unraveled both his life and his art, in the end, it was his demons that gave him that transformative, angelic quality that made him so captivating.<br /><br />Like a modern-day Dorian Gray, Jackson truly was ‘the man in the mirror’—self-reflective <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 98px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_6sDOgfkOOr3mdUddwTVRsmAgU37WqXYm1lqy51v_iVOmVN8oe-SZTMvssKiOi3YwInrwvse9J3bOH6Ofr9by5IZjzWDnT1idCzgJwT_rQK6kZYaTIFdKOn2PmeMICrDQqkoG_aMqs8/s200/Dorian+Gray.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352500767197822450" border="0" />and ever-changing. But unlike the troubled nobleman at the center of Oscar Wilde's classic 1890 novel who surreptitiously sells his soul to preserve enduring beauty and an epicurean fulfillment of the senses, there were never any shades of a dark, festering Faustian bargain with Jackson.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy82eBFU5Ktof5muQJDrkWf6a4WxfDGQOLYQS5nFmp-feIJhw4ZBk6gbzmAHFMt8exvt3MZkKQipaG_tXBr78mblUTkxSSAwZwLTAx6MBJEFz3qvRTFI4FkPlohSDHnuc9xjmKF3qOfc/s200/jackson5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352501322179684210" border="0" />Truth be told, the Faust in this forlorn story is Joe Jackson, who saw not just in Michael, but in all of his sons, the deal of a lifetime and cashed in unabashedly on their vibrancy and youth.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OOapW-WRH822-5V6hVf208k45MuDuAXdNJpMI1vlVYgOeZ-vjCFRKg4ndsI06mr7ZpWjLMqEeA6CXV3lttlxG4rog3zeEQKY1aEbvX9lT2ThgMt5CWNDptp-I_OQAca0kowOUZDMp94/s200/Comedy__Tragedy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352543754592482962" border="0" />But it would be wrong to call Jackson’s life simply ‘tragic.’ Sad, perhaps, but not tragic. Jackson lacked the fundamental quality that turns talent into tragedy—hubris. Of all the self-destructive qualities Jackson exhibited, an overweening, self-effusive sense of pride was not one of them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpJ6S7BMot7AYeh-a9CPoGc5pGZ-rGtlvozjtPzsfopyMYQWXhCHBi5z8IwwVVJigObOH2wEQ0XsEk91AuTAp8BDYE2pBfC7wv8BdZnUsaNDNvH5TsRJPIkOXvLUfg6gmmGq0L6xpCAk/s1600-h/mowtown25moonwalk.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpJ6S7BMot7AYeh-a9CPoGc5pGZ-rGtlvozjtPzsfopyMYQWXhCHBi5z8IwwVVJigObOH2wEQ0XsEk91AuTAp8BDYE2pBfC7wv8BdZnUsaNDNvH5TsRJPIkOXvLUfg6gmmGq0L6xpCAk/s200/mowtown25moonwalk.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352545273530972386" border="0" /></a>Upon hearing the news of Jackson’s death, I imagine the response for most of us was closer to a knee jerk reaction than anything remotely resembling the smooth, effortless sleekness so imbued in the “Gloved One’s” now-famous moonwalk.<br /><br />And therein lies the real tragedy in the passing of Michael Jackson. It was so sudden, so unexpected, so abrupt. Yet after the shock subsided, the only emotion left was an overriding sense of acceptance…as if it just <span style="font-style: italic;">had </span>to end this way.<br /><br />Like any great artist, Michael Jackson dedicated his life giving himself to <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPXqihKmqsODdYl1jlJnLPASWkBH_Yzi8TvCLHU4i9nnsPCGOfaTUlfWmtfnHH5HQSk1IqjPTCha6QrASzbWYfgsQJBshrQLtdCWgFMnpJ17lYuAQaabKVrlbtXxUNCkcqhw6iF39lMQ/s200/MJ+Gloves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352787077612671986" border="0" />others. He could have hoarded his vast talent like some chastened child. Instead, he shared that talent with the world. But in doing so, he became trapped, inexplicably linked to all the people whose lives his music touched.<br /><br />Jackson lived in a literal Neverland, spending the last have of his life trying to take back a <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 84px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhReQ4vZL92xMnd_hddpkAAC5fiVJjRfG2Gq04yBgwP-fxAyX4Klmt23r8lUmspoYuBiVt2aAM8UHSpGYsbQ0l5NDPC9KWBPZ3y1-qygMaNB-IsQeODpvusKQA39r-eS0ehuUFRL4lRS_Q/s200/Michael+Jackson+Neverland.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352546585424228402" border="0" />childhood he never had. But after a lifetime in the limelight, the self-professed King of Pop’s palace probably came to more closely resemble a prison.<br /><br />But we can take solace that those shackles he spent a lifetime trying to release himself from have been lifted once and for all. And he is now finally free…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eorleEDIPHSbOr-OsxUtUqQd8hmbMICfXupq2UHbb0mwQqibZ7E8Zw6ORe_z4zAuMt5AAJeLs9dW9CErQQtvLmfAAUhhN_PwkTFqgyMdiObA05mo2rmQCwnwpXGLvgr0CmtHfliBU7Q/s200/Dylan75rolling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352548096796854578" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I see my light come shining</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">From the west unto the east.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Any day now, any day now,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I shall be released.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-34051422181472310252009-06-21T12:01:00.000-07:002009-06-29T19:51:43.193-07:00“The Whole World Is Watching”: The revolution will be Twittered<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />Oh the time will come up</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />When the winds will stop</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />And the breeze will cease to be breathin'.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Like the stillness in the wind</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />'Fore the hurricane begins</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwOwDC1RKKxWyl1YG-x2UNnaANjc0lFYItobglqANiIvhvw1L5I3hd8pvc8rtL8K4X5NY6snH-leHNLTqCwiM5KJRXseLQ6rgp2P1tEeLp86pZkSPVkAfgd829mKHjMQDUrtJOmPqy2c/s1600-h/WhenShipComesIn140x100.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 85px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwOwDC1RKKxWyl1YG-x2UNnaANjc0lFYItobglqANiIvhvw1L5I3hd8pvc8rtL8K4X5NY6snH-leHNLTqCwiM5KJRXseLQ6rgp2P1tEeLp86pZkSPVkAfgd829mKHjMQDUrtJOmPqy2c/s200/WhenShipComesIn140x100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350639495598836514" border="0" /></a>It’s often said history repeats itself. And while that old adage may be true, an underlying objective of this blog was <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> to repeat a lyric once it’s been used.<br /><br />But in the aftermath of the violence <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7ii_i_8DCjFF6mw_lE05jcFtFp2PBdbN3_BpHC-bOw57Xnu71eoVOt5gMHaK0Uj6aurToOqNbjBH8adfgsmiua2Ee2CqObnXSRuA-WH43UMiYxIqRlThHD_d4kac_Cv-SzzYwGEI1LY/s1600-h/Iranian+fraud.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7ii_i_8DCjFF6mw_lE05jcFtFp2PBdbN3_BpHC-bOw57Xnu71eoVOt5gMHaK0Uj6aurToOqNbjBH8adfgsmiua2Ee2CqObnXSRuA-WH43UMiYxIqRlThHD_d4kac_Cv-SzzYwGEI1LY/s200/Iranian+fraud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350640019924486338" border="0" /></a>that’s erupted in response to last week’s Iranian Presidential election, the lyrical refrain used to herald the wave of optimism that swept across this country last November is now an ominous, and all too fitting harbinger for one of the greatest unchecked affronts to political expression in recent memory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQf5_wxNPdTw38rDTXuNnq7QNU20lVFNC_6mcaT6zr-i_9xKZ3YmnpogPZvvNesynL7pXRd1VT83VuY9Lhw_0VHYLSINumsAj1mo9XQReR4D1YPeWvGyiNTlDnddsJQI7QbcinzWHYP1Y/s1600-h/Ahmadinejad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 75px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQf5_wxNPdTw38rDTXuNnq7QNU20lVFNC_6mcaT6zr-i_9xKZ3YmnpogPZvvNesynL7pXRd1VT83VuY9Lhw_0VHYLSINumsAj1mo9XQReR4D1YPeWvGyiNTlDnddsJQI7QbcinzWHYP1Y/s200/Ahmadinejad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664770321577922" border="0" /></a>The tide of history is turning once again. And while “the whole world is watching” the unfolding events in Iran, it’s what they’re <span style="font-style: italic;">saying </span>that is most alarming.<br /><br />From tepidly noncommittal:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIh5L4nGETBG8msqtQBgkJVyGhoqxGPkItNJfQtHpu74pl0VTKQVl-16NW9ecvEv3TTN9jlYv5Vf3AbtSDy1xSlzR94kDcXfUJsi-k-O7p3hJmlGxWma77CPFfwSmvsgW59KxqmrPlmb0/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_the_United_Nations.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 53px; height: 35px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIh5L4nGETBG8msqtQBgkJVyGhoqxGPkItNJfQtHpu74pl0VTKQVl-16NW9ecvEv3TTN9jlYv5Vf3AbtSDy1xSlzR94kDcXfUJsi-k-O7p3hJmlGxWma77CPFfwSmvsgW59KxqmrPlmb0/s200/800px-Flag_of_the_United_Nations.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350642775336836482" border="0" /></a>United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-moon: "I'm closely following how this investigation into this election result will come out.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcqRkyRu9gx0tR7QZJz3Ah0sDUAnWvmk21G6xKqsGj5bkbDGOWWOsy_foyrhOIm78x570JQ_NBk3y_6tTP3uI6uD_eI0L3vqYFgIdYDXzsA-bSAPROYzin7zgB6uOVg0wNEY9APhBU0U4/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_the_United_Kingdom.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 54px; height: 34px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcqRkyRu9gx0tR7QZJz3Ah0sDUAnWvmk21G6xKqsGj5bkbDGOWWOsy_foyrhOIm78x570JQ_NBk3y_6tTP3uI6uD_eI0L3vqYFgIdYDXzsA-bSAPROYzin7zgB6uOVg0wNEY9APhBU0U4/s200/800px-Flag_of_the_United_Kingdom.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350643007096026082" border="0" /></a>British Prime Minister Gordon Brown: "The elections are a matter for the Iranian people.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_8kejdWkeyxZjWenF7fTt9Zxdg-g1QW7RLvw0I0yl6MQRpoq_K7OpL88DzWZDUJHiqVemhgtIqV8GD1wUcJg7v0GsNVj6rvFAj2JJpIeUoF0xLLg8bfj39fEfJ6ZaWH7H5Txur1wb0U/s1600-h/660px-Flag_of_Israel.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 53px; height: 35px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_8kejdWkeyxZjWenF7fTt9Zxdg-g1QW7RLvw0I0yl6MQRpoq_K7OpL88DzWZDUJHiqVemhgtIqV8GD1wUcJg7v0GsNVj6rvFAj2JJpIeUoF0xLLg8bfj39fEfJ6ZaWH7H5Txur1wb0U/s200/660px-Flag_of_Israel.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350643265001810690" border="0" /></a>Israel's Defense Minister Ehud Barak: "I'm not sure if the results reflect the real will of the Iranian people."<br /><br />To outright congratulatory:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuynMTBtjpXDCSgOlDStG9ppeawtH7hrKg9R2USy_F_D_2p5swi2NZfpwP0flk6VWvhGU9RPqL04TlkFA0COKwmn7M3HcBzmNJ0nrDSA159ySyNn4knnY_gH0qMRGJ93iLfWI3aawD6I/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_Hamas.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 54px; height: 40px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuynMTBtjpXDCSgOlDStG9ppeawtH7hrKg9R2USy_F_D_2p5swi2NZfpwP0flk6VWvhGU9RPqL04TlkFA0COKwmn7M3HcBzmNJ0nrDSA159ySyNn4knnY_gH0qMRGJ93iLfWI3aawD6I/s200/800px-Flag_of_Hamas.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350643899502641202" border="0" /></a>Fawzi Barhoum, a spokesman for Hamas: "The results of the elections in Iran show the wide public support for Iran's policy of challenge."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHY-Og64otubGGFfkqk-fyFrTHlwKwC1tZlVTi6E09OaxVympQc8zyNgLrGFRijFfQyKoWjRo-g8Fs9suEWA5JM06Xm77eV8_SQwekixcpZQZcYTKTuWefpKF9luzBNNOGCmVUt7B1L0/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_Pakistan.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 53px; height: 35px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHY-Og64otubGGFfkqk-fyFrTHlwKwC1tZlVTi6E09OaxVympQc8zyNgLrGFRijFfQyKoWjRo-g8Fs9suEWA5JM06Xm77eV8_SQwekixcpZQZcYTKTuWefpKF9luzBNNOGCmVUt7B1L0/s200/800px-Flag_of_Pakistan.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350644271346769074" border="0" /></a>Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari: "This is indeed testimony of the confidence of the people of Iran in [Ahmadinejad's] leadership qualities.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z27BTIkNcvK6D6UG585znjkVfSqRZNiyQ3wbctVdCUYVKujM7zxnbsqaEZyDRbZtGYydsiB3AwDc4kSrHXMuGJohreHgw14RJUFlnYyw5a5BE3Gh3KuP7-c1gAfc3271YQEOlsQ2Lxk/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_Venezuela.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 55px; height: 36px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z27BTIkNcvK6D6UG585znjkVfSqRZNiyQ3wbctVdCUYVKujM7zxnbsqaEZyDRbZtGYydsiB3AwDc4kSrHXMuGJohreHgw14RJUFlnYyw5a5BE3Gh3KuP7-c1gAfc3271YQEOlsQ2Lxk/s200/800px-Flag_of_Venezuela.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350644601637657410" border="0" /></a>Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez: "[A] great and important victory for people fighting for a better world.”<br /><br />There’s no question what’s going on in Iran is unconscionable. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTNN9PiG4MIQZOm2uOjdpq_yq32G2-s4BxX32qXPT3CXzm2qQu_ylotw5noqRi2krfgjATAtTGNVNcz406gQVBHvsHS0T4N2jZoRpCAz5S2OP7F0vdSnnlLK3H-FZS9Js6tahyiwzM8k/s1600-h/Iranian+gunfire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTNN9PiG4MIQZOm2uOjdpq_yq32G2-s4BxX32qXPT3CXzm2qQu_ylotw5noqRi2krfgjATAtTGNVNcz406gQVBHvsHS0T4N2jZoRpCAz5S2OP7F0vdSnnlLK3H-FZS9Js6tahyiwzM8k/s200/Iranian+gunfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350645215101516130" border="0" /></a>But you wouldn’t know it to listen to the posturing politicians who seem more concerned with appeasement than appealing to the people who are putting their lives on the line.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIg6KS-8mpSD76lzxpyYFFn-dOfOOmVv1nML5pKWGzd6CXkld6vo5xgAW-8hFhG9OG7Kd2ydxJ2PDn_UlbHzUNKAsmKw3TDaFsCO16Wb_ZlgSij1uAi3BckxduvRihJtJolSDtlJMlFE/s1600-h/snob2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 159px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIg6KS-8mpSD76lzxpyYFFn-dOfOOmVv1nML5pKWGzd6CXkld6vo5xgAW-8hFhG9OG7Kd2ydxJ2PDn_UlbHzUNKAsmKw3TDaFsCO16Wb_ZlgSij1uAi3BckxduvRihJtJolSDtlJMlFE/s200/snob2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350645481381194418" border="0" /></a>And while President Obama has begun to take a more defiant view now that the protests have turned deadly, his initial response--claiming the difference between Ahmadinejad and reform candidate Mir Hossein Mousavi "may not be as great as has been advertised”--was hardly an indictment of the injustices being perpetrated in the streets of Tehran.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnESq4iNfYwWJC6dAg_Q-01aKtgSkK0RfYqcm1slPPBEebHxjlTTlhPnkljg-HUrMFhKpxDzUWozqyKuXTVv5W_VKHy702b5J99de9oW_phUB6FWEV7NsYkKGWVQuru4B0VbGBIJq2BnQ/s1600-h/social+networks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnESq4iNfYwWJC6dAg_Q-01aKtgSkK0RfYqcm1slPPBEebHxjlTTlhPnkljg-HUrMFhKpxDzUWozqyKuXTVv5W_VKHy702b5J99de9oW_phUB6FWEV7NsYkKGWVQuru4B0VbGBIJq2BnQ/s200/social+networks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350645948825356850" border="0" /></a>But thanks to the ubiquity of social networking tools like Twitter, Facebook and YouTube, we no longer need to rely on the “powers that be” to tell us which way the wind blows.<br /><br />We can, and have, assessed the situation for ourselves:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikApPITY4oypX9qAlRvzBz_uhNxWqcM4kR86XG9fUElT4nrL-qYJYwO2fPtvF3eHMeMpvfm9EYE0DSCjEi63k8ssXbhXRTfDxUq1hAYCrnTZnCf3wipZWRbOUEUmDtTb7tF4mIY2Lkk7s/s1600-h/Iranian+flags.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 141px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikApPITY4oypX9qAlRvzBz_uhNxWqcM4kR86XG9fUElT4nrL-qYJYwO2fPtvF3eHMeMpvfm9EYE0DSCjEi63k8ssXbhXRTfDxUq1hAYCrnTZnCf3wipZWRbOUEUmDtTb7tF4mIY2Lkk7s/s200/Iranian+flags.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350648849327409746" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From Serbia:</span> “We from Serbia know best what it me[a]nt to live under dictatorship of few man. Just be brave, IRANIANS, brave and dont give up. Serbian people are with U!!!<br />Posted by Ivan June 20, 09 08:52 AM<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnzMhx1gsTbtSiHPSRUWgLowjbudHEeaz8m20PG1Eb3jMlTnzT2RSxiH1YcJyOy_rZsow4l3tCD3idcrr7bROOG4ax9dH83vCDQbXpm1SF0KL6KGUTt_lnzvwyip6u0G2CjZjLF1K1f38/s1600-h/Iranian+beating.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnzMhx1gsTbtSiHPSRUWgLowjbudHEeaz8m20PG1Eb3jMlTnzT2RSxiH1YcJyOy_rZsow4l3tCD3idcrr7bROOG4ax9dH83vCDQbXpm1SF0KL6KGUTt_lnzvwyip6u0G2CjZjLF1K1f38/s200/Iranian+beating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350649162881470610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From the US:</span> “from Texas...please please please dont give up... You are all brave men and women of Iran and must continue on the path started last week. Be focused in a common goal.... our prayers are with you all....”<br />Posted by behzad June 20, 09 12:05 PM<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamDUjzDgClWulaL2nYBo2-akQnKytRUbEVZzLnfe6O6iky3nSNgAT1NMeemT05IqOyuJHBw121xWy9sEjqrkX_atSTj8VVGV2LBGNgUPI14gA_dcsS_cUsmJs1EoQcLDvvvommzqeE9U/s1600-h/Iranian+computer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamDUjzDgClWulaL2nYBo2-akQnKytRUbEVZzLnfe6O6iky3nSNgAT1NMeemT05IqOyuJHBw121xWy9sEjqrkX_atSTj8VVGV2LBGNgUPI14gA_dcsS_cUsmJs1EoQcLDvvvommzqeE9U/s200/Iranian+computer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350649370880874866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From Australia:</span> “I might be far away in Australia… but I will be praying for The Iranian people. I pray that they will be free. There is nothing more powerful than an Idea thats time has come!”<br />Posted by Nicholas June 21, 09 02:58 AM<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9830ZNOVZRz66OOa7pFCrfdisgZH8TJ8iojKUsT5zwwHrE7R-FWbzKMar1e0OAF6uFco6Hsp9LcK-xvkISp2J4TfSZRvmG8j_7HZipDPePYjaeAlNh3gil8iLQhqhgss6ryBRSo6-vS0/s1600-h/Iranian+teargas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9830ZNOVZRz66OOa7pFCrfdisgZH8TJ8iojKUsT5zwwHrE7R-FWbzKMar1e0OAF6uFco6Hsp9LcK-xvkISp2J4TfSZRvmG8j_7HZipDPePYjaeAlNh3gil8iLQhqhgss6ryBRSo6-vS0/s200/Iranian+teargas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350649631972444258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From Greece:</span> “I hope you will gain your freedom and Iranians will live out fascism.. KEEP ON FIGHTING, YOU ARE THE FUTURE OF IRAN!!we are with you,from greece..”<br />Posted by vangoff June 21, 09 01:04 PM<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmq4-3kkcUsIThAx8v8S31yEAZ6k9CqCyzl7HiRU11cqSZS_ztZBmAKuJNq6D0M_f3e7eyftWpgzTD_Y2xBPpxp_wxTFlsuN_mfdOgvyHYcYOblPckyXVoUhhYb8dapF7bCtO_n0Xih4/s1600-h/Iranian+burn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmq4-3kkcUsIThAx8v8S31yEAZ6k9CqCyzl7HiRU11cqSZS_ztZBmAKuJNq6D0M_f3e7eyftWpgzTD_Y2xBPpxp_wxTFlsuN_mfdOgvyHYcYOblPckyXVoUhhYb8dapF7bCtO_n0Xih4/s200/Iranian+burn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350650021691231298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From Venezuela:</span> “Lo mismo que pasa allá en IRAN es lo que ya pasó y continúa pasando en VENEZUELA. Por favor ayúdennos a salir de estos dictadores que se creen los dueños de todo. Dios bendiga al pueblo IRANI, sigan luchando por su libertad!!!!!”<br />Posted by Pedro June 20, 09 06:39 PM<br /><br />But perhaps the most emotional appeal has come from the Iranian people themselves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXta7xhb8qdXmp4xVk4j1BVHzVaF2X2PKyuZWew6filV3tFNz1yyxVT0O1mAWy1QZFFrXmmH-899iKEkXN3gqnIRpq0BAnTrJnZa2Uizxo_QUPflcLiDWoHbe5uVoPzP1sF8MyOqAZqD4/s1600-h/Iranian+shot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXta7xhb8qdXmp4xVk4j1BVHzVaF2X2PKyuZWew6filV3tFNz1yyxVT0O1mAWy1QZFFrXmmH-899iKEkXN3gqnIRpq0BAnTrJnZa2Uizxo_QUPflcLiDWoHbe5uVoPzP1sF8MyOqAZqD4/s200/Iranian+shot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350650197806394146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">From Iran</span>: “I will take part in the rally tomorrow. Maybe they will turn tomorrow's rally to violence. Maybe I'm one of those who are meant to get killed… Now I'm listening to all of those beautiful songs I've heard in my life once again.”<br />Posted by freedom fighter June 20, 09 08:28 PM<br /><br />Back in 1963, when Bob Dylan penned the prescient, “When the Ship Comes In,” the consensus was that television would document the great injustices of the world.<br /><br />But now that the major news<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPfBMc6p-Gh4Q3gnBQW2VBMIZryBVyETV7JBvVrsPDAGYB6Dxq986ly7GPZT9kpzsYDD_Q-FIIRKGqG5oSLwDmwUcEWUBYSwvSQRaQRmKV1p8v6nDnwR2GEGWoRIq_MJzF_ymnQYbRCfg/s1600-h/televised.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPfBMc6p-Gh4Q3gnBQW2VBMIZryBVyETV7JBvVrsPDAGYB6Dxq986ly7GPZT9kpzsYDD_Q-FIIRKGqG5oSLwDmwUcEWUBYSwvSQRaQRmKV1p8v6nDnwR2GEGWoRIq_MJzF_ymnQYbRCfg/s200/televised.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350651374075624994" border="0" /></a> organizations sent to Iran have either been kicked out or under house arrest, it seems the revolution won’t be televised, after all. Instead, it will be Twittered, FaceBooked, and YouTubed.<br /><br />Which, of course, means the whole world won’t<span style="font-style: italic;"> just</span> be watching, they’ll be participating, too…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAf4MXksV2Cy1p_tl66ON3tNKhJRKOu6uibN8C9-9rZMmBqoJGSAHFZ50pF3s41EFsOJUz7ppwwaJCpxAUusG8UN9EYO4cXIg-lhgFVaIY5lldTF0DexnN279RBFMAih5oxsjoPmnqGQ/s1600-h/dylan+ship.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAf4MXksV2Cy1p_tl66ON3tNKhJRKOu6uibN8C9-9rZMmBqoJGSAHFZ50pF3s41EFsOJUz7ppwwaJCpxAUusG8UN9EYO4cXIg-lhgFVaIY5lldTF0DexnN279RBFMAih5oxsjoPmnqGQ/s200/dylan+ship.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350652974582217490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Then they'll raise their hands,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />Sayin' we'll meet all your demands,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />But we'll shout from the bow your days are numbered.</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />And like Pharaoh's tribe,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />They'll be drownded in the tide,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />And like Goliath, they'll be conquered.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-50939535418206431172009-06-14T19:31:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:22:09.158-07:00“If You See Her, Say Hello”: A Dylanesque goodbye to General Motors<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />We had a falling-out, like lovers often will</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And to think of how she left that night, it still brings me a chill</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And though our separation, it pierced me to the heart</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She still lives inside of me, we've never been apart.</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 109px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO00x7SWJ8Gn-njlVBi-15CWVtcTU02Ug9qNv2svsfivqUtaoM_mCZ8VXlye_frFAeSOUeeOQ08Jt2JgMKtDZ3COaPZ4d1Z5bWtR43aQLLRaInCKcq48ppyYzXuiU8dLMpqIqS91Ma4KM/s200/dylan-bob-276-l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348500237451585762" border="0" />Unlike Bob Dylan’s 1974 wistful song of an ill-fated love affair gone awry, America’s affair with the automobile is far from over. But as of last week, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 75px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycbV2pAwpqiRFWjHQv9Nu-mZtmHmP5ufaNQnb7_BirOdPRqxb2SplVlWxLsaKEfwrG_CBSGXAsdeuhdEshCM7KPGd4HeUxwW_F3kAP_i97QMHM8tyeegOmyTlF6wxuJLHs17uIRk_xgY/s200/lichtenstein_crying_girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348500537432380210" border="0" />GM, who for years was without doubt the most popular girl at the party, is about to find out what it means to be alone on Saturday night.<br /><br />Already, Toyota, Honda, Volkswagen and Hyundai <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDFKfptqZEGdSZWDq0bnJ9I_CV_sp0ohoy7vxbF7RZIFI7ik_wSGCHewCaVASeaMf8qkkIeQaUzfaB9xa-4Up6CEqjY3D0Ma5e8wLQszJckMxmg3vkSFbAog1vTlWOaT_P6F_C-sOErI/s200/chrysler.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348501046923978738" border="0" />have seen an increase in sales as a result of GM’s announcement that the once adored automaker has entered Chapter 11. America has always has a wondering eye when it comes to our insatiable consumption for consumer goods. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 83px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4sjB52DAQpOfWerodmdcSkdra-deTz6VjpixA6JAUn-JbtO54qGnL1EI9akqBckTIgVPJacCWfCnwXBTenqzcg3-H1ZCd692OmZ4iIN-feW9cnqapEgR3oeCECTWLHhW-QICG4AwPbM/s200/carlogo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348501218315134530" border="0" />But if the trend toward foreign femme fatales continues, our homegrown dance card is going to start to resemble something closer to a well-traveled passport.<br /><br />Let's face it. Relationships are complicated. And GM’s <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 109px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQ3l5Qp2idfWqNN3pD9mSx2Rq7bJwvVCj61GoS0bQIDIs4ew8yRrNaCxOci-ge7kcm7pLc-jJE7nURjUhqag2p808xSVvbPEyuLz8oOUAU8RxAD1FTK5b3RZwgUhl3PRP48yAnDbmTw4/s200/Flint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348501386917870530" border="0" />relationship with America is no exception. Since 1908, the Flint, Michigan, automaker has sparked the imagination of America for over a century. So much so that the old adage, “as goes General Motors, so goes the nation,” wasn’t just some trite expression. It was an enduring term of endearment.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBS8ucv0MlAdBclmreFFCGrYG2CGoEwCWYv8schXBV2qvXSD40WQ-jR9etZzlH1p5UsAbb06dQvmhjGJgnJoUwyjIzJAUjjz4WSgVRuF5EObtwnYKAmmji0UOcIr5VFq37Vi-l5YcZV2s/s200/GM+red.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348501903286164546" border="0" />For years, we were obsessed with her stylish, shapely body; her lean, aerodynamic curves; her tight, taut lines. But as time went by, we grew bored and she grew complacent. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-w5ZddNooavYbopvTGY7WdSuFbBw_9wpOqQpsmWPfDkYvuw5viuf0EOKmZvYxahG1mYfnR4NFesf1YFSvan8LXTfYbOlcRe1MqJHt74sdXhbbI_8L7R7nCsMVrzwf7mFNbaTOF9kDg4/s1600-h/chart_gm_shrinking.03.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 109px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-w5ZddNooavYbopvTGY7WdSuFbBw_9wpOqQpsmWPfDkYvuw5viuf0EOKmZvYxahG1mYfnR4NFesf1YFSvan8LXTfYbOlcRe1MqJHt74sdXhbbI_8L7R7nCsMVrzwf7mFNbaTOF9kDg4/s200/chart_gm_shrinking.03.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348502093381904834" border="0" /></a>And in recent years, GM all but completely let herself go— continuously losing market share to a barrage of suitors who weren’t afraid to appeal to our vanity. And it certainly didn’t help that she was going through money like it was going out of style.<br /><br />And while we’ll probably never be able to pinpoint the exact moment the bloom was finally off the rose, one thing’s certain: It didn’t happen overnight.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 98px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZnHamAI2I9vNcxRB1PSa_A8M0ybrIMFlGeEvNz7P8eKmdTs5iCZToFoR4iWA9H4pSNszNJZGgKJ3ByPFf68xNq6hOME_3JJHQL07UL7Wk8EqvdWqA2OgkUXN1RtH4CDa_Wocd_lzKls/s200/Scan10019-719474.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348502475939032674" border="0" />As recent as December 2005, <span style="font-style: italic;">Business Week</span> was banging the drum about the possibility of a GM bankruptcy. But then-Chairman and CEO Rick Wagner blindly dismissed the rumblings, declaring that Chapter 11 was contrary to the interests of "our employees, stock- and bondholders, dealers, suppliers and customers." A heartfelt entreaty, indeed.<br /><br />But with 100,000 employees on the verge of losing their <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeO36JwaojTOuvdYYin8SI1meAtv3vz99fQiym5kmNxEVSX_mM1TvK0dVlT_M00bHINebKi2Zdd0GMc8mFiFpzNaYj2Hc8WjHodQRGM1EKVGK-TKA31ohWhD7mo6QuOFzdP8aDuAUFctw/s200/american_labor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348502918597536978" border="0" />jobs, GM stock essentially worthless, and close to 4,000 dealerships on the chopping block, it turns out that in the end Wagoner only hurt the ones he loved.<br /><br />There’s no question General Motors was once a great company. But like so many of <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 69px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWHM9Fctf74ZxRUQX8TLP7f85jJ7mEmVMGUPzeIKewoNMCEGQtdAb_MN5m1h8lJKUkPN9jj48QvgbeepBeyf26-VwI4cxn2ZZDdhuD9ceARhbK1eRZuFNo90U0PnEUDiPOy9hkTr1Xqc/s200/gm-sexy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348503281798883106" border="0" />those back pages we look upon with misplaced affinity and affection, maybe in the end the attraction really was only physical. Perhaps in hindsight it’s best that GM and America take a break. Who knows? Maybe the time apart will do both of us some good.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_J2OI-6WwS6p0cvJ0OKkYHuQsVMRQh1Dbt1k988syB7yzn6loVd9q1KiW9FT6mQ4IaV5xImKAn3FTxcijM8MudXiQFlMYfkt17l32jc7OXztnZu0jC_zEq7Vy8yzVK0C35g-79RmlQUE/s200/rick_wagoner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348503607762293394" border="0" />There’s always a tinge of shame associated with a failed relationship. GM, however, doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Admittedly, the federal government's decision to put the brakes on our relationship with GM has resulted in the fourth largest U.S. bankruptcy on record. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbVpRSVVfW7TDCzfEfR6BunEZw0nIkZkkf4hojeSAhTnRevA_8dhn89R1Jqmnwpp6mR0voEk-lC9zYCB0j-Y_ZQKLLIOtgKXtkK2DDAKnONYR5wpOEk5NhPKjOoBjNJBW5vKCKCkJrx4/s200/Wamu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348503797773717346" border="0" />But GM can take solace in the fact that three of the biggest bankruptcies in our nation's history—GM, the failure of Lehman Brothers and Washington Mutual—have all occurred in the last nine months.<br /><br />These aren’t just trying times for GM; they are trying times for America. A shattered financial system, a rea<img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeNAXqxRRbcBR4vowH2_vt28Pg2H13l0iPviya1s0dnAlarYWgTpoOuGp60T0Uhyphenhyphen42S2YkPui4Mn1f2-9Ydpoj1k0tpwIyl5EwU8rYfzwjle911__3qcveOkHkR95WsFb-an6YuP_mQg/s200/derivatives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348504246509535314" border="0" />l estate market in disrepair, a workforce weakened by the highest unemployment levels in a generation. History comes in ebbs and flows. GM, it seems, just got caught on the wrong side of a financial tidal shift.<br /><br />Maybe bankruptcy is the best thing that could happen to GM— and frankly the best thing that could have happened to us, too.<br /><br />We’ve invested a lot in our relationship with GM. Close to $19.4 billion in at last count. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BG65kHfaCiZZoZwyS3Bz7XfJKeFCetbH_lfMfQdwklw_3Z4QY-Ijbbnn9zzaL_YKyEBqbn2PM7x71wB3d2FQOwVfwOV2Et1WjMVn_8_kCOfr5b7cYLPUCucDeBY2bSK4Ll4B_vOadvk/s200/toilet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348504447059342594" border="0" />But even that wasn't enough to keep the nation's largest automaker in the black. Now the government is on the verge of putting another $30 billion into GM <span style="font-style: italic;">just</span> to keep it afloat while management restructures. And while this isn’t the end of the road for GM, those carefree, top-down days are undoubtedly a distant reflection in the rear view mirror.<br /><br />So how does all of this relate back to Bob Dylan?<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkaSZYcz-4uzg7sm6qHY1MhktdnR-MxYYHx2WE0Kz9tKnjJxOPYTmzO3d9CSIzBH4owBRKlKtJIXlLYGc6uyR_5xIVUftA4Eme7Y25aT3G9Ag8RV9T-bK32I8acm0MRRraO7rT3vcXtQ/s200/slow+train.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348504954999630690" border="0" /> It doesn’t. Not directly anyway. Bob Dylan has always been more of a train guy. But despite the relative absence of automobiles in his 500+ song repertoire, Dylan is hardly immune to America’s infatuation with cars.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfTibG7v6NN9ZahhM5-rv1TYKO2p8Qm78YHYsVw2eFvKl5sNiInTj8ROC-JA3vJ5ljg0NNcbVSFYX9lfErC6XZotiz1iK094khHTydg6GHFLjEk5-6vvD_lps-sSqvmqkTYvb6M_pZAY/s200/bob-dylan-cadillac.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348505125983004418" border="0" />If you need proof that the mystique has a hold on him, too, look no further than the 2007 ad promoting the launch of GM’s Cadillac Escalade. Dylan offers not only his endorsement, but utters the closing line, “What’s life without the occasional detour?”<br /><br />At the end of the day, the mental road block GM seems to having a hard times getting around is accepting the fact that maybe the only way to save the corpulent car maker is to set it free.<br /><br /><object width="40" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-oEudd6AYM&hl=en&fs=1&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-oEudd6AYM&hl=en&fs=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >GM advertises the fact they want us back</span><br /><br />In an ad GM is running right now, GM says ‘they get it.’ The times have changed; they've changed; and now they want us to take them back.<br /><br />We’ll think about it, GM. But in the meantime, don’t wait by the phone…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS5iqaO-1OOYtHnxTsh_Wop-v7SFkgwHvT1Pnj5e-Em2z_CfKNFUXxPDI9lGGSnj26iL-CfKgY-SBRKLSkaayZ4kXS8E_p0rwD7GYcCV80nT9xx0nuowFvFkZm_ZQYSPqdNSFBckg0fEM/s200/Rock-Roll-Bob-Dylan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348505796991102322" border="0" /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">If you see her, say hello, she might be in Tangier</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">She left here last early spring, is livin' there, I hear</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">She might think that I've forgotten her, don't tell her it isn't so.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-58169834763974065782009-06-07T13:52:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:19:30.640-07:00The Hangin’ Judge Appears Before the Senate: Dylan, Sotomayor and the case for confirmation<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />The hangin' judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">The drillin' in the wall kept up but no one seemed to pay it any mind.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Syns1-vn2T-vSQUngxYPk-lX2qcSTk7GTzYqZIFNum-gov6ST3Y-tgrBGFvUkCCWLE1RjPrq_u6pTQJl6vLH6kRINyARepsXQFu9G-7ajdva4rskDkzVZ9rpgTS_2kB3hJavU4-MflA/s1600-h/DYLAN_blank3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Syns1-vn2T-vSQUngxYPk-lX2qcSTk7GTzYqZIFNum-gov6ST3Y-tgrBGFvUkCCWLE1RjPrq_u6pTQJl6vLH6kRINyARepsXQFu9G-7ajdva4rskDkzVZ9rpgTS_2kB3hJavU4-MflA/s200/DYLAN_blank3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344694633936175506" border="0" /></a>Listening to a Bob Dylan song is a lot like taking a Rorschach test. Nothing really changes, yet somehow it’s different every time.<br /><br />Ambiguity won’t, however, be a factor when <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSRQyWJ6__4txzVPbsu2mhSzq3NxoxmBYYjdJK0lh2waNcvOiq5HajGKO-GdrYJ16Y6KFjOnyCSBBP4jkQweI38MZwPQafy92fyPncICUEH45_aosvUpOGpMZJ5TOJnZOIioCAWbKxhY/s1600-h/Obama+Sotomayor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSRQyWJ6__4txzVPbsu2mhSzq3NxoxmBYYjdJK0lh2waNcvOiq5HajGKO-GdrYJ16Y6KFjOnyCSBBP4jkQweI38MZwPQafy92fyPncICUEH45_aosvUpOGpMZJ5TOJnZOIioCAWbKxhY/s200/Obama+Sotomayor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344694386943983602" border="0" /></a>Sonia Sotomayor appears before the Judiciary Committee later this week. Senate confirmation hearings tend to resemble more closely a litmus test than Herman Rorschach’s infamous, highly interpretive inkblots.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3FmZ8QLi6U3uXgCkGMU9-iPbPIQprzjp_ODWzC6OVMDSipHIbHixLAPzpTfWpXXPxJQmuz3AydDcNbL24NF1JOz97DOkhjjgjfz6okz4GX4G2WkJUKmuiKtQxIyxec8cMYSt5_ZuGbU/s1600-h/brain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3FmZ8QLi6U3uXgCkGMU9-iPbPIQprzjp_ODWzC6OVMDSipHIbHixLAPzpTfWpXXPxJQmuz3AydDcNbL24NF1JOz97DOkhjjgjfz6okz4GX4G2WkJUKmuiKtQxIyxec8cMYSt5_ZuGbU/s200/brain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344695481964179602" border="0" /></a>As it turns out, delving into the personal psyche of our Supreme Court nominees wasn’t always such a public affair. In fact, 101 nominees went before the Senate without having to utter a single word in public.<br /><br />The appearance of Louis D. Brandeis befor<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3VxLVGRdIwZFsE0kakl_n2uJDu8Jk4Li21FEu2B-oHPbtNmufTCFcffZrTUA1H37DB0qvO99ZfemmXiQAS_2y7ehqQ-DkKrH_i4ET7BFBXv4qhIzFoXMgzo8vCgAfj_hwmB8uRPfDnE/s1600-h/louisbrandeis.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3VxLVGRdIwZFsE0kakl_n2uJDu8Jk4Li21FEu2B-oHPbtNmufTCFcffZrTUA1H37DB0qvO99ZfemmXiQAS_2y7ehqQ-DkKrH_i4ET7BFBXv4qhIzFoXMgzo8vCgAfj_hwmB8uRPfDnE/s200/louisbrandeis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344695054067022770" border="0" /></a>e the Judiciary Committee in the spring of 1916 not only set a precedent of opening the hearings to public, it defined the modern selection process. Nominees may be inches away from joining the highest court in the land, but before they do they must first pass through the court of public opinion.<br /><br />And so, for the last 90 years nearly every nominee has been called on the Congressional carpet and begrudgedly been asked to strip down to his or her briefs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywq8Qh2_p-7_wOQ1jUhDbtLa1n9zr9LbkNVOpDl_3XaeYCTILsl3NR25h18xgvKhXQ7SkwgN_IjryV2TqgmDYjNLKAAExcQxM6XeddHU5Dgrper-vlnrKlYA3Z0nHPKGCI37zTkeqS7E/s1600-h/clarence+Thomas.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywq8Qh2_p-7_wOQ1jUhDbtLa1n9zr9LbkNVOpDl_3XaeYCTILsl3NR25h18xgvKhXQ7SkwgN_IjryV2TqgmDYjNLKAAExcQxM6XeddHU5Dgrper-vlnrKlYA3Z0nHPKGCI37zTkeqS7E/s200/clarence+Thomas.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344695783957126562" border="0" /></a>For some, it’s been tough sailing. Clarence Thomas was asked to appear 11 times before finally being confirmed in 1991 by a razor-thin margin of 52-48. For others, the seas have been decidedly calmer. Three of Reagan’s five nominees were confirmed unanimously. And while the outcome isn’t always predictable, the vetting process most certainly is.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRoxsG32_m_FagOH1-V1Ey-HzhKbL1pIHOZXJ0Ie-yXW1EzpC0FZ9tbh0IrxXOww_PPIkekF3ua2mGl0F-d7GSwaU0Y04Nxhg8BmcLYddE3UJnV1C868I2n0HxTxB0mUsO4UgCw7ByIA/s1600-h/rehnquist.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRoxsG32_m_FagOH1-V1Ey-HzhKbL1pIHOZXJ0Ie-yXW1EzpC0FZ9tbh0IrxXOww_PPIkekF3ua2mGl0F-d7GSwaU0Y04Nxhg8BmcLYddE3UJnV1C868I2n0HxTxB0mUsO4UgCw7ByIA/s200/rehnquist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344696173704401234" border="0" /></a>Of course, most of the nominees have an advantage as they prepare for what is likely to be the last job interview of their career, and Judge Sotomayor is no exception. She’ll know the questions going in.<br /><br />And if the past three decades are any indication, only three matter—abortion, gay marriage, and ‘judicial activism.’<br /><br />On the first two issues<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9e3wC2BsfrK7AxXfBmbsrpLmod8lI_8n8zmKx_JODT_nr94rGeTVa2YqsynHOcIGFZU-xyTiTPElHVOws7ZO9Pqg3YcXolNBzSmbcCI250VZqnNxLZw2oRmKbT6fiej8BrOHXQKzXW2o/s1600-h/roe+wade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 98px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9e3wC2BsfrK7AxXfBmbsrpLmod8lI_8n8zmKx_JODT_nr94rGeTVa2YqsynHOcIGFZU-xyTiTPElHVOws7ZO9Pqg3YcXolNBzSmbcCI250VZqnNxLZw2oRmKbT6fiej8BrOHXQKzXW2o/s200/roe+wade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344696430247635458" border="0" /></a>, Sotomayor’s record is ambiguous at best. She only has one opinion regarding abortion. But never having actually ruled on the issue makes her real resolve anyone’s guess. And even though Sotomayor’s record on civil and gay rights is non-existent, gay legal activists tend to think she’ll go to bat for them should she be called to the bench. On the issue of ‘judicial activism, the Committee actually has something to go on: Sotomayor’s words.<br /><br />Her 2005 off-the-cuff comment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyTSCandsUxmQ45AM8YTdmclHbyyrK-0KTBzkVah3S5f71iQ4HlL8hiO1tVtxoOqT3yeAoOIXSG2BLdnVfozdYqlLRqatPjatzy9ZtdsCK6QArP0gzbRj3rLZK-LyOBvFnpoaW09Fe58/s1600-h/sonia_sotomayor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyTSCandsUxmQ45AM8YTdmclHbyyrK-0KTBzkVah3S5f71iQ4HlL8hiO1tVtxoOqT3yeAoOIXSG2BLdnVfozdYqlLRqatPjatzy9ZtdsCK6QArP0gzbRj3rLZK-LyOBvFnpoaW09Fe58/s200/sonia_sotomayor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344697131292611634" border="0" /></a> stating that, “the court of appeals is where policy is made," might not be enough to hang the brash, opinionated judge, but it’s been enough to set the conservatives right.<br /><br />In the end, however, it hardly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoah18S2pi7qXHFTTEfAA9NyV4fV52pwXxb6LdlC4gbvQiaePano5aj3AO2VpPCnFWwnXWkN6Op36JzMwX3KHnbb8q80lmzBHFJaPMXuDsgJ6MSr2OlpMvs9RCY1_vsyq61r4oyVOj28/s1600-h/Obama+Sotomayor+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoah18S2pi7qXHFTTEfAA9NyV4fV52pwXxb6LdlC4gbvQiaePano5aj3AO2VpPCnFWwnXWkN6Op36JzMwX3KHnbb8q80lmzBHFJaPMXuDsgJ6MSr2OlpMvs9RCY1_vsyq61r4oyVOj28/s200/Obama+Sotomayor+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344697458798246482" border="0" /></a> matters how Sotomayor answers any of the questions that she’ll be asked next week. Bar an unforeseen debacle, all Sotomayor needs to do is show up, keep her responses vague and just be herself. Of course, it helps that “being herself” means being an Hispanic, a woman, and someone who, by all accounts, is not only affable but the embodiment of the American dream.<br /><br />Of the 158 Supreme Court nominations<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0C0fE3C-J3qpuO_Gx75ATm8gX2542S9e0fPaC82LG0Vuq_4dwwmjkfiS-x1dnCQEd3sL7Pz3pl-QIwrTSvCkQuQn2E0liPQh57p42biIFa9re5pY8eXBx0IBCDxa-2LPlccc4tkj-d0/s1600-h/litmustest.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0C0fE3C-J3qpuO_Gx75ATm8gX2542S9e0fPaC82LG0Vuq_4dwwmjkfiS-x1dnCQEd3sL7Pz3pl-QIwrTSvCkQuQn2E0liPQh57p42biIFa9re5pY8eXBx0IBCDxa-2LPlccc4tkj-d0/s200/litmustest.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344697736324476338" border="0" /></a> sent to the Senate to date, only 12 have been rejected, seven have declined to serve and another 11 nominations have been withdrawn. The President and members of Congress long denied there is any ‘test’ for the Supreme Court gig. Yet when the locus of your success revolves around your position on three pivotal issues, how can that not be considered a litmus test?<br /><br />Robert J. Bork may have gone out with <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkC8wfbHmibF9slw7Yn_RU2mP-PtkZzdxhcV5CG4XG41gOqiqaCVW1SpSu1TIBipc5Yuq-mVAAZ63WpyB5AgIRjw61Vz_kvl-yk4GDgqGI0OZPNUxOXr3LH8Fz63uv822Ejp-t9Eb_Iz0/s1600-h/bork.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkC8wfbHmibF9slw7Yn_RU2mP-PtkZzdxhcV5CG4XG41gOqiqaCVW1SpSu1TIBipc5Yuq-mVAAZ63WpyB5AgIRjw61Vz_kvl-yk4GDgqGI0OZPNUxOXr3LH8Fz63uv822Ejp-t9Eb_Iz0/s200/bork.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344697932586822770" border="0" /></a>a bang, appearing 12 times before the Judiciary Committee before being rejected by the Senate by a vote of 42-58. Harriet Miers might have gone with a whimper, withdrawing her nomination in 2005 without having to make a single trip to the Hill. But it’s almost a foregone conclusion Sotomayor will successfully stonewall the few Republican Senators left who can scrutinize her.<br /><br />So knowing this going in,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fHiyPkZ5zUZV047yWcUUT1niTNU46AwYrm05CfDfU4j4Tu5FjJp9l9y0TbYtqh_vU25Q4KwMU82bd70NI_6_uopAto2twn7VGxP-vI3od4ChvV18fs9uI9_KACYbgNWX2hWVjApoW1w/s1600-h/Rorschach_blot_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 80px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fHiyPkZ5zUZV047yWcUUT1niTNU46AwYrm05CfDfU4j4Tu5FjJp9l9y0TbYtqh_vU25Q4KwMU82bd70NI_6_uopAto2twn7VGxP-vI3od4ChvV18fs9uI9_KACYbgNWX2hWVjApoW1w/s200/Rorschach_blot_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344698708628238642" border="0" /></a> perhaps it’s time to abandon that lackluster litmus test in favor of something that actually gives us some insight into what kind of judge she’ll really be.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4WBbpvrA3OuAiCS9PQzFVauAgchJrEz1b151TYFxGD63Nr6xwvyeKOEhQ6ZD0lv9rJ6DOedkgB9wQdhrT_KE7q9am9o0eCmvHCrbUEK5qYlmgKe_t_RySmUdtQBUZ06XjPa6AQNLxoQ/s1600-h/jack+of+hearts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 66px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4WBbpvrA3OuAiCS9PQzFVauAgchJrEz1b151TYFxGD63Nr6xwvyeKOEhQ6ZD0lv9rJ6DOedkgB9wQdhrT_KE7q9am9o0eCmvHCrbUEK5qYlmgKe_t_RySmUdtQBUZ06XjPa6AQNLxoQ/s200/jack+of+hearts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344698932486351698" border="0" /></a><br />Instead of asking Sotomayor three questions she isn’t going to answer anyway, perhaps just one will do: “How would you have ruled in the case of Lily, Rosemary and Jack of Hearts?”<br /><br />After all, if any of Bob’s songs are open for interpretation, the second song off side two of his classic 1975 offering, <span style="font-style: italic;">Blood on the Tracks</span>, is a perfect candidate.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2IFUYC0LhVPTPAdtrlcxeGfO9PfQSmRovd6zfUhMD83S_3dFZkSDl_1RS1BGs0BpmM0lwna7iuJS9FU69yZn_hhrfUGU9tBg5BcHZ1-MAit7vm57Qwt-Td4H7vK2f1wXAme3y3PlTW8/s1600-h/pat-garrett-billy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2IFUYC0LhVPTPAdtrlcxeGfO9PfQSmRovd6zfUhMD83S_3dFZkSDl_1RS1BGs0BpmM0lwna7iuJS9FU69yZn_hhrfUGU9tBg5BcHZ1-MAit7vm57Qwt-Td4H7vK2f1wXAme3y3PlTW8/s200/pat-garrett-billy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344699194424148434" border="0" /></a>An allusive account centered around a card game gone decidedly wrong, if Sotomayor can untangle the twisted plot long enough to figure out just what that ‘one good deed’ Rosemary did before she died, she’d definitely have my vote…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA0BI_BfE45Doysg9shDP54VmCc1S9lSKyzgOVJKou5fM0jij687Qi7inuE8YJLBnlCMYUK0uu9PrJbPTVk_p_By5bdVs_n6YLx_TzPVJKwNZsw500NG60-qQDZ24q89hNDQUERRy2w58/s1600-h/PositiveDylanPoster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA0BI_BfE45Doysg9shDP54VmCc1S9lSKyzgOVJKou5fM0jij687Qi7inuE8YJLBnlCMYUK0uu9PrJbPTVk_p_By5bdVs_n6YLx_TzPVJKwNZsw500NG60-qQDZ24q89hNDQUERRy2w58/s200/PositiveDylanPoster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344699374786334738" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Rosemary started drinkin' hard and seein' her reflection in the knife,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She was tired of the attention, tired of playin' the role of Big Jim's wife.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">She had done a lot of bad things, even once tried suicide,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Was lookin' to do just one good deed before she died.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-62650352834114640002009-05-24T15:07:00.000-07:002009-06-07T13:59:35.414-07:00Bob Dylan Turns 68: Will he have cake or eat the document?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"Broken hearted and so sad,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Big blue eyes all covered with tears,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Was a picture of sorrow to see,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Kneeling close to the side of his pal and only pride,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> A little lad these words he told me"</span><br /><br />It was supposed to be a simple song about a simple man who, in a fit of drunken rage, turns violent and kills a boy’s dog.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDp-oEgi5oqxkmCX1vUkjd35smSKeDkglosb90IjAORqF_D5dqd4TuetMs1z6lkmZ4WMMcj48ecKrCo2RMSpRzag5IakkhK3rn-CgTsglLkzsgsRws3WNEEZXIxpJShj-Ws8QBvPDXEkc/s1600-h/Dylan+Poem.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 75px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDp-oEgi5oqxkmCX1vUkjd35smSKeDkglosb90IjAORqF_D5dqd4TuetMs1z6lkmZ4WMMcj48ecKrCo2RMSpRzag5IakkhK3rn-CgTsglLkzsgsRws3WNEEZXIxpJShj-Ws8QBvPDXEkc/s200/Dylan+Poem.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339518328007902658" border="0" /></a>But if it was so simple then why 42 years later is the press hounding its author? Because, it turns out, it isn’t quite that simple after all.<br /><br />Written in the summer of 1957 <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 163px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6RUakaLCMiF_JKNgjpsvxD7Cws3xmLb5UnanJSKjr1BYuvecbLJv4Geofqy5rDo3f99fjQklt6sXhaVhwvGcpxDHTmrWRfaCrGA9BpDbu16LG9n-TN5g1Nk7u4rpvaz4u8GLLmCxt20/s200/dylan-jewish-buddies.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339518573736941538" border="0" />while attending a Jewish summer camp in Wisconsin, the two-page poem is believed to be the earliest known handwritten lyric by camper-turned-culture icon, Bob Dylan.<br /><br />Simple enough on the surface, sure. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 95px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfYg-qy2fIDh7LzZO3T5HcVNsYiRBsKE5VARXvDygPuqXX8BZ5-NOFtPWuBhiFkUm5s9BltVmCkiUZklFx9ryUA7ytO0PIQY5HfjGNwsYGZyJdHjxYCjgXlisYX7w6XoUVVpZNWQCiwk/s200/hank+snow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339518934349652962" border="0" />But things suddenly got complicated last Wednesday when it was revealed the words weren't Bob's. Instead, they were lifted almost verbatim from a song by the popular Canadian country singer, Hank Snow.<br /><br />In the imitable words of the man in question, “things are gonna get interesting right about now.”<br /><br />What’s interesting about all this mixed up confusion over <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyNtWlJh_06iVsq2FwxtIHKlrP1RJrwH_RYpMotmvDJy-QM4T2i4Gx2by-mGymCiowwX16XW3OtNz7bkUDD5IiDGIMpZcbj2JMGSRWIUrhiJGgupqOxqPRTYZZqxhBgoBPBR3IYOaLr0/s200/Dylan+collared.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339519276296252290" border="0" />Dylan’s youthful indiscretion isn’t so much that Dylan plagiarized someone else’s work (an issue we shall revisit and ultimately dispute). What’s interesting is that it got to the point where it’s become an issue at all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalYVnJHg1pzrNu5IiWsz3kawPzC_TE6FL5Y4MtLrhN1rhHfmdGbC9Gl854HGo0gjgTIwAIC5usctF9lBMn3RsF_a8rCDB0hcfP7MwPX5U8ZkieIJxaIhsyrGqKIINkpAdmKrJLCxs0vs/s1600-h/Little+Buddy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalYVnJHg1pzrNu5IiWsz3kawPzC_TE6FL5Y4MtLrhN1rhHfmdGbC9Gl854HGo0gjgTIwAIC5usctF9lBMn3RsF_a8rCDB0hcfP7MwPX5U8ZkieIJxaIhsyrGqKIINkpAdmKrJLCxs0vs/s200/Little+Buddy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339519488827585458" border="0" /></a>Certainly, there’s plenty of blame to go around. But for the sake of simplicity let’s start with Christie’s, the prestigious auction house that planned to relinquish this ‘lost gem’ to the highest bidder. Christie’s should have known the poem was a not Dylan’s. In fact, anyone with a computer could have figured it out.<br /><br />A simple Google search of the first line of the poem <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wP4smtwh5-gLrWXa82ZEGDp5OrEr8CZLZ2aEJYjaUbyPvdH13EeAnaIkl7Cird8-8Lt35itgdwjrffiur6jyoTeTtscvJn9fVex-iOqy3FYrWAD_OLfsTtB6VhKC6Vc1rgYq0HlRme8/s200/Snow+Opry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339519655382456850" border="0" />would have rendered that Dylan’s ‘lyrical brilliance’ as Christie's so carelessly alluded to the 2-page document was nothing more than a line-by-line transcription of Hank Snow’s 1947 song, “Little Buddy.” A song, by the way, Snow performed every night he appeared on stage at the Grand Ole Opry for 46 years.<br /><br />But it seems this piece of pop culture trivia eluded Christie’s pop culture <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4xgADfpNmTshnQkT_1U8McSoilKhikgGD1QhLAzdB2AdYubUORCnWiiFOzCWRaGGuacIhgaZ6C90nTnkrJ-NiCGaHCUFextiUV_PjAn2vihc604y8Ldkqm9vXsXlVBLwiyNPOaeg9-Q/s200/posters-christies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339520081801976050" border="0" />specialist, Simeon Lipman, who apparently couldn’t spare the .24 seconds it would have taken to perform the search.<br /><br />There’s no shame in what Dylan did all those years ago. Nor, frankly, should his act of ‘appropriation’ take anyone by surprise. By revising existing lyrics by changing words around and adding a few of his own, Dylan was, in effect, affirming an old country and folk tradition.<br /><br />And while the impressionable Bob <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbpdm9SgYWCxVVOfi3TcPb2K-KwlLzBgpXGlPNuhyphenhyphenGlcSEbFRCR579uoLLAcGciopdx37awiYT0DLa3djfCvcS8NeDBeS4lsKcW8gbVida9Fxb52NACdEJhxIq7UAAc8mYey2ou5Tv2M/s200/300typewriter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339520459440005314" border="0" />Zimmerman may have erred on the side of relying <span style="font-style: italic;">too</span> much on the existing lyrical structure and underlying narrative of Snow’s song, the tradition he was embracing undoubtedly served us all well in the long run.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTwscnceRWsrUYUNL0mhWtDjUVEOI3CTX2AnwUE5vrF1Kl1aQQzRBiOSnt6P-GPRvQCOHY9ej5vYHAmpJQ8oj7QBVyO8Af22AP2It-EBBp0N_qKbfzhp1BIYU1sw2l8khiVBNF_1D6y0/s200/16_Dylan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339520714999850258" border="0" />Stop and think for a moment. What if that naïve, wide-eyed 16-year-old kid from a little Minnesota mining town had been precluded from drawing on the Bible, popular film, and pulp fiction— not to mention all the writers and critics who prophesied with their pen long before he came along? Dylan’s body of work would have been very different indeed.<br /><br />Take the famous rhetorical refrain from Dylan’s 1963 social anthem, “Blowin’ in the Wind,” in which Dylan inquires:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_OgH-27ArFwgqUHdRwaxB7dmXTKVFoSVWTDzR2WjmTPCtcJmtFipkgUcSM0UNyn8LME7VQtIrBVX9FJ1JhKX72lT7A6P4w1KlWsi8V75LZd6fKEe13knxgnmztYGrV8_jU-IWUp4v-w/s1600-h/Blowing+in+wind.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_OgH-27ArFwgqUHdRwaxB7dmXTKVFoSVWTDzR2WjmTPCtcJmtFipkgUcSM0UNyn8LME7VQtIrBVX9FJ1JhKX72lT7A6P4w1KlWsi8V75LZd6fKEe13knxgnmztYGrV8_jU-IWUp4v-w/s200/Blowing+in+wind.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339521005632779858" border="0" /></a>"How many years can a mountain exist before it is washed to the sea?"<br /><br />If the question seems an eternal one, that’s probably because it is. A similar line appears in Revelation 8:8. It reads: “it were [as if] a great mountain burning with fire was cast into the sea.”<br /><br />A deeper dive into ancient text finds a passage from the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh in which the question Dylan asks of his listeners is asked in almost the exact same way:<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglAc6RM132KZg9EBylq_nnWbTO8Zi0SgvhWCorBmsc-aDI4zh_w2hLHtPH7qO9kRs2QuTXL23jLVhsCwWQ9VQ4OBQxVO3yWqqA5ZooUtZrd3B6ufusANvMtDpiJ9RiU2l2Ls3iuxBMcwo/s200/tab_gilgamesh.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339521224224705426" border="0" /><span style="font-style: italic;">"How many times must a home be restored or a </span><span style="font-style: italic;">contract revised and </span><span style="font-style: italic;">approved?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How many times must two brothers agree not to dispute what is theirs?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How many wars and how many floods must there be with plague and exile in their wake?”</span><br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZpwThDovH5Vx3UYCOtKV42H_6ehht1wrwyAaNFqZL5AsIKudyq_C-_WsC6yVlgp_O10Yjizp3E54tzINljKigZL2NqHqLgknA_-Dg0yjv7GXksLPKvfpzwjcsBWrcdLOVa-l6maRbQQ/s200/kevin+barents.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339521658139800306" border="0" />Without question, Dylan knew his Bible…and his Blake…and his Warhol…and his John Ford. The lyrical allusions to scripture, literature, pop culture and cinema serve as starting points, signposts and send-ups throughout so many Dylan songs that <span style="font-style: italic;">entire </span>books, dozens of websites, even a class at Boston University are devoted into delving into a lyrical landscape that is littered with characters culled from the complete human experience.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKbHpI5oWIg8zxaD5ChB0dGJqW1D5g1K3QvYqkRLDq92Fqzq5VTU8vieCZIYU-50M8JkAJFsqehi3GTdua1Q3wqmg-BZnTE-FiKinQMZ2GpmcSKvtl4QY8WUTrQYx8JCBu3JWYFvMnqI/s200/fourth+street.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339521915091039602" border="0" />Perhaps David Hajdu, author of <span style="font-style: italic;">Positively 4th Street</span>, said it best with this wry observation: “We have this idealized image of the creative process that is essentially fallacious, this idea that what the artist does is commune with the muses and to bring forth expression that’s never existed before.”<br /><br />Maybe the Muse <span style="font-style: italic;">isn’t</span> some spiritual, <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 95px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinIJ7ljJuelF67pilwDQJqtjIBn5gOjML6e4sgvW65Si4sR9H8-MOGuWGt6mWK_wYBvi_jmL-X12wvvHmI_w60AdeQaeHfwJGZ4PD55ZXPKpWEC64yrixCiTLWRAs9cq4bMG32bXmhdoU/s200/muse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339522067997361906" border="0" />intangible force who sporadically touches the artist at the most opportune moment. Maybe the Muse is the artist himself; and the ‘inspiration’ we hold with such hallowed regard is nothing more than the artist’s ‘interpretation’ of the work of those who came before him.<br /><br />And while “Little Buddy” may not demonstrate Dylan’s brilliance in interpretation, perhaps relishing the words of another inspired Dylan to embrace a talent that, over time, would prove to be more than authentic…<br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 77px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbnYtpnFL-SwAKeHD8PVDXtwkgTV9P251HMi0XiAZmbxOMG3oiW6UBhR3_o4lwFnRFmabsQqH5tqT7N83Ir8MMshvv7IGBlefkIUmMYTgh9X6d3kPRHW21ZXy7c_XYc58zF2Eqo9jAE4/s200/2006_CLAXTON_gtr_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339522926256246354" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Little Buddy Rest In Peace,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">God Will Watch You Thru The Years,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Cause I Told You In My Dreams That You, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Were Mine </span><br /><br /><br />To learn more about the Biblical allusions in Dylan’s lyrics, click <a href="http://www.literatureclassics.com/ancientpaths/dylan.html"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">here</span></a>.<br /><br />Dylan has always been a self-proclaimed film buff. To learn how that love has infiltrated his work, click <a href="http://dylanfilm.atspace.com/index.html"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-weight: bold;">here</span></a>.THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-34433258909025045532009-05-17T10:28:00.000-07:002009-05-24T15:38:41.787-07:00‘All Along the Watchtower’: Dylan added to Guitar Hero’s set list<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."</span><br /><br />By 1965, Dylan had already garnered a reputation as a prankster. His mercurial nature and increasingly interpretative lyrics had resulted in a goading ability to confound critics and fans alike.<br /><br />And so, when Dylan stepped onstage at Newport with a <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_mwyJrf51zgjl1-Tfzf0eYC4xbb-36UIkFAOIBEwgT20VggSP9QFX6k6j-GqRh_QIcFb9tYXfXzx6yJsSzlORiLtVu5e_4NKy4VsmmCnzHwkoabY1HblZ_tZNeUyo3Rj8iOWffM1pzk/s200/dylan+electric.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337225464729600802" border="0" />Fender Stratocaster strapped across his back instead of the familiar Gibson Nick Lucas Special acoustic guitar with which the folk set was accustomed, in all likelihood his fans were probably hoping this was just another one of Bob’s attempts to bewilder. The joke, it turns out, was on them.<br /><br />And while Dylan’s defiant act of ‘going electric’ <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn5HaJ_w8IvIAJkIk5xjxUxcUe1ZWyGOFYn07U30CxlnEBj5IUwSERlp0qHZamkTNz3D1T0-TnuNBfiHcfxdXD_claOo7tGWraGtw_ukhoF4JFjFJzD0bofBnYcMocnfkxz6NlSqGbwc/s200/bob_dylan1a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337219314813456162" border="0" />undoubtedly sent a shock of horror through the crowd, in all the chaos that followed chances are those in attendance probably failed to appreciate just how good a guitar player he really was. That’s all about to change.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 86px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGaLC_6nie8L55wgnQ9P3Fs1S67IuV2cU1U6oE_Awzk0epd0APYHQZFJYNuUwWSGefBdRFZs1Uq0c9zjiQPJc7hvHeOe4Pz42yyWQOEH1LQ415YRuL1DzBbyC2gQnn87E7pSd8czWLPg/s200/Dylan+guitar+hero.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337219477819805602" border="0" />And even though we’ll need to wait until later this summer until we can emulate our favorite traveling troubadour, the buzz has already begun.<br /><br />That’s right, Bob Dylan is officially a ‘Guitar Hero.’<br /><br />And what song did the good people at Activision, the makers of Guitar Hero, choose to showcase Dylan’s talent as an axman? “All Along the Watchtower.”<br /><br />And just so you know, contrary to Bob’s lyric instructing otherwise, there very much <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> reason to get excited.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2lzHtgt5OY2iejyi2PM_bRe4URaBfIbYojyIZlX_pAv5etgxvBxsYbTkWb8-mYoEfTldUertBi2Qae0q-SrcdjCNQtICqDQvQholnK7KiItaJzYJNwkFwx1pHkRkgnLOTERjqeWtYGM/s200/guitar_hero-12046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337220130782279506" border="0" />Sparse and restrained, “Watchtower” is the perfect song for the revised Guitar Hero format, which unlike previous incarnations allows multiple players to play a multitude of instruments.<br /><br />So what makes “Watchtower” so well suited for Guitar Hero? It’s open for <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 108px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoF-r4hMnc9082sGsxBtHLENMPq38pCxBf2yHXTyLrARm-RrI9zA0bFcCDdGgrftOiUkOJ9WELB6YJFrs4B-Hbz-e3_gD8rXr0qa1Aaxryycc4Wmf1lR3Tflgej2JaiW1rz5ScTSK1DTI/s200/electric_ladyland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337220316555598770" border="0" />interpretation. Whether it’s Dave Matthews’ slow burn acoustic build, Bono’s politically infused lyrical addition, or Hendrix’s searing, Wah-Wah wig out that rightfully snagged the song the #5 spot on <span style="font-style: italic;">Guitar World's</span> 100 Greatest Guitar Solos, all have offered a unique, interpretative variation on this tumultuous tale of intrigue.<br /><br />Interpretation, of course, is exactly what lies at the <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xO9tIuSujp6muM9NXoVsB_gfrn5N3CT-vwJ0DsYinHXhmQMPqLwFBQEtOlodIwmlTC2yTfzVFuMILeWnxcaKydijgFr9te_6w67xMruHJ05MrFFOO0_v0uwD6LADtf1pzcj1LGFralk/s200/20080930_dylan_146x97.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337220598189064994" border="0" />genius of Guitar Hero. And having performed the song more than 1,500 times, Dylan’s been afforded quite a few opportunities to reinterpret the song himself over the last 35 years.<br /><br />But there’s another reason why this timeless classic makes perfect sense. Because just as the simple construction of the song lends itself to interpretation, so, too, does the lyrical content.<br /><br />Unlike many of the “talkin’” songs Dylan was composing around <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_0la3TKYdXQ12euOxvLsGVUYvEHjcG3vIb7TX0eXfSTehMwOHTC4tHvbWcTkqhlqkZ3H8YY2tYs470VfRp927oaBCqFe-0ujHyvUb_-eUSgS6QU5lNM6VKYszozBD7M3bZ5Y2KyJDoU/s200/John+Wesley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337220801690959618" border="0" />this time (many of which ran in excess of 12 verses), “All Along the Watchtower” is essentially a stripped-down three-chord folk song, consisting of three tightly crafted verses, no chorus and plenty of room for solos. Yet while the song isn’t especially structurally complicated, it turns out it’s actually one of Dylan’s most complex.<br /><br />The joker, the thief, the prince, the businessman, the barefoot servants, the <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPCIbZFz-3jhBM9fcABWTpM2Xha9ccUDgGODduU5Ts6ALmJRqv08yOAwjV1Yjn8bXujM8OHo2vofvG3GSKH3bp87b_8pwrfynCKulprKTisM3ySdEgswQLDJtLCdQ_JKBZscM44AYhUiU/s200/ch6-4horsemen_pastorpack_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337221032360296594" border="0" />approaching riders, the plowmen, the howling wind. It’s tough not to get lost in the cast of enigmatic, inscrutable characters scattered throughout “Watchtower’s” turbulent terrain. But buried beneath this laconic landscape is a cautionary tale that is alarmingly applicable to the times in which we live.<br /><br />Clocking in at a mere 2 minutes and 33 seconds, Dylan uses his time, and his expansive imagination, wisely. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72lS02fXfst79T8W71Tzw-l9FEGAqy6mbID30XL3R7V1IyzLDIlhn5kd0C9CWgVKW1OZc4xg3Nz029FlbSrEP4QB13JOE9f-GtF5uBL1alTwtLo6kqlBx_av_HCwhbKpn_xaFyAwVLC0/s200/castle-keep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337221329126426466" border="0" />The song opens and closes with two figures guarding what we are led to believe is a medieval castle. And while Dylan’s parables are often puzzling (this one is no exception), many have kept the Kafkaesque view that the castle is representative of established society’s existing power structure.<br /><br />But just what exactly are the princes guarding? Are they intent on preserving the old guard? Or will they be swayed by the inevitable change brought on by the distant howling wind? And should it get too late, what happens then?<br /><br />Thematically, the song also strikes a resounding chord. <img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 82px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrqye_ikxX9sihUu_negpFH2AuIwkyiOTq3xeLq9QW54ohcKgkRgoe7jtTIphSWleHA583DPssO8BGmWLVpU2mIqsJGEyMCeduoI1zrlkiB7uhZLDwbypLWaZ5VD617ASw83okpJKRn8/s200/yeats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337221511720089474" border="0" />As the song circles back to its haunting conclusion, some have cited the final refrain of William Butler Yeats' famous poem, “The Second Coming” as inspiration: “And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”<br /><br />And while the reference to the Irish poet points us in the right <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCsE8e1aCHaFnKiRl3fNMdz3sadiE5jiRynxw4Z-xem5sXOfhjyyt9CI9X-0kS6GVj3eWcqWOroBx4mlkVI71A_KVOFnYGqVHg7J3GorsWP_4LzOaCrhUvmY_COdCKF2VskZOZUMQN7I/s200/tangledupinbible-dylan_cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337221660640344018" border="0" />direction, in the end it doesn't completely satisfy. Neither Dylan nor Yeats offers explanation as to the ominous outcome, leaving us instead with a sense of foreboding mediation on the looming conflict, and its potentially catastrophic consequences.<br /><br />It's only to be expected. As with all of Dylan’s diabolical diatribes, “All Along the Watchtower” works on many different levels. But at its core, the song focuses like a laser beam on a fundamental issue of the era in which we find ourselves— the realignment of human values against the established order.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 44px; height: 56px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhPyOBnvd6JB4U1o0Cepv3tiD6GVVXUZQy924rT9YyHLIy8LCHW9w0IFzUz0RkgmO4ge2vuiplJc-e0a3-s6SPYhXprbUwljLAu838t1r2g-W4RwKPKkq6A0mcJ4hBt1QZVy9O5lZMdo/s200/Prince+O.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337221856719457122" border="0" />And when to stop to think about it, isn’t that precisely the scenario our own newly anointed political prince must now confront?<br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 62px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVgT-ltYdI6IeaVL1-3fbD-RufxOMxonVLYSLaNwOAu_Y5Tc7CIZiXJ5lot7K0bBhNY13BBKFjEN3sjI8ZYdylGUDe72x5oALuCrFy_0HE_8B0pTpZWkGmbaQTx1Uj4YHqwN3CfaAshM/s200/Obama+Guitar.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337222286476962082" border="0" /><br />President Obama has admitted to being a Dylan enthusiast. Chances are, however, we won’t have to worry how Barack Obama might interpret this harrowing harbinger of things to come even if he <span style="font-style: italic;">were </span>to try his hand at the newest addition to Guitar Hero’s set list.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 49px; height: 79px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQV9hsowjSUmn6fS5LDoGwhtWBJBPEcw7tghlo_vovY_1tv_N9X6BGtfihGh-Z4wq0HWtDCBqSYUgN5zasSqYx-5u_h3Q9C-31MtZ__4W1GiTxPJR8Re3oktIHH65SoPT0AACg5Sb92sg/s200/nixon+piano.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337223944889357842" border="0" />It turns out, unlike many of his presidential predecessors, Obama does not play an instrument. But then again, doesn’t that make him the perfect candidate for the game…<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,</span><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_TCoP_YMR652Ve7nMe8Nqwb9BXQThyyyn61LwqsINrKIfYhr7n3sVRLaFYzSEf-mzJPOtEsj_SWRl5RFRPZsfKGo152dusGPiJpbheEgSl8tMnx_4374aHnXZiGHpGWkntZD0pTBKvM/s200/dylan_studio_73.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337223663859065618" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-39964969470706170302009-05-10T09:33:00.000-07:002009-05-18T10:32:00.864-07:00Ain’t Working on ‘Maggie’s Farm’ No More: Dylan tops record charts; Specter breaks Republican hearts<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I got a head full of ideas</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">That are drivin' me insane.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.</span><br /><br />It’s been nearly 45 years since Bob Dylan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrdMhUefhedvsJ6HtpWJT7tdi_NCPRG4kXY7iAElF46nLlYeLZg8bgIEKkfCuHg3uFVV9i3R5JK1vMvr-b0LKUBpbHKkdeMGLJSxYUCzlCmsYUs21YXN0o53y2owGv5-Mk5snOLOneWY/s1600-h/Dylan+newport.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrdMhUefhedvsJ6HtpWJT7tdi_NCPRG4kXY7iAElF46nLlYeLZg8bgIEKkfCuHg3uFVV9i3R5JK1vMvr-b0LKUBpbHKkdeMGLJSxYUCzlCmsYUs21YXN0o53y2owGv5-Mk5snOLOneWY/s200/Dylan+newport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335348434781289090" border="0" /></a> stepped on stage at the Newport Folk Festival, electric guitar strapped across his back, and defiantly told the establishment that had made him a star, “I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKVLEnGs32retwpQF7ZwnM-OqPcYLvLIIRNW00Bo1nrxh0T0BnhwAy4S-2C0M7ZUbo9yS6-TbyydMFGAvWwKvRw13AyFCKrERk05iil0rWW0xJHUG2HT1kTgNyBpG7A5VvQB85rX8rEA/s1600-h/Dylan+Judas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKVLEnGs32retwpQF7ZwnM-OqPcYLvLIIRNW00Bo1nrxh0T0BnhwAy4S-2C0M7ZUbo9yS6-TbyydMFGAvWwKvRw13AyFCKrERk05iil0rWW0xJHUG2HT1kTgNyBpG7A5VvQB85rX8rEA/s200/Dylan+Judas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335348974217878322" border="0" /></a>And while Dylan’s transition from the world’s most beloved folkie to full-blown cultural icon is now largely forgiven even by his most adamant detractors, at the time the chord Dylan struck was far from harmonious.<br /><br />Dylan's landmark appearance at Newport was wedged between two long forgotten acts by the name of<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IGiCbTNWIudGrNqG2fFAKnZ1mbBNyxKng1CS45_jjKtaH4T46V5NLbu1kCgSZ6AI1LK2n71JTc0NOli3BPCUM4lZ3e8vkTuY1cWDHBsSeHDHM-2CS2ybxr6qTVlBDMmk-YRahyqeIAM/s1600-h/Cousin+Emmy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IGiCbTNWIudGrNqG2fFAKnZ1mbBNyxKng1CS45_jjKtaH4T46V5NLbu1kCgSZ6AI1LK2n71JTc0NOli3BPCUM4lZ3e8vkTuY1cWDHBsSeHDHM-2CS2ybxr6qTVlBDMmk-YRahyqeIAM/s200/Cousin+Emmy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335349120232399762" border="0" /></a> Cousin Emmy and the Sea Island singers. The fact that these two groups were so closely culled from the folk tradition only accentuated the disruption Dylan caused. So horrified was the crowd by Dylan’s now notorious 3-song set, that shortly after the band finished someone is reported to have shouted: "Bring back Cousin Emmy!"<br /><br />Much in the same way Dylan’s performance at Newport took the folk movement by surprise, US Senator Arlen Specter’s unexpected decision last week to switch political affiliation shocked the Washington establishment.<br /><br />Chances are slim there’ll be any cries to “Bring Back Uncle Arlen!” on the part of the Republicans, however.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9yajujgrb0QyxbSLBF0EdQBB7_Cn8TUUNH4NX73PeChkBvT7WWrGKvSyjh9kOFHQnCx8qnIZ3PrBgTxg-21n-cbYWWFsBvj7In0ouOyE48tIcvWYln6E1e3iEyUndUoYQN5PCpUaOQ0/s1600-h/bipartisanship_specter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9yajujgrb0QyxbSLBF0EdQBB7_Cn8TUUNH4NX73PeChkBvT7WWrGKvSyjh9kOFHQnCx8qnIZ3PrBgTxg-21n-cbYWWFsBvj7In0ouOyE48tIcvWYln6E1e3iEyUndUoYQN5PCpUaOQ0/s200/bipartisanship_specter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335349463107619026" border="0" /></a><br />In hindsight, the real disdain the folkies had toward Dylan back <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCx3mTA1nRiaGf5IyiwV1y0KBhtQOUqNx2-XlfQDgYjQqG_NZxSzB1HJt2vWRCzQveOZTJc2vFrlvlo8gBnNeQOsuQSZn-TjetQIdIeCCWi9JmuqaLR5MhwthxBRhCMLLTu8-Eb1PFGlY/s1600-h/LARS7NLFrontRed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCx3mTA1nRiaGf5IyiwV1y0KBhtQOUqNx2-XlfQDgYjQqG_NZxSzB1HJt2vWRCzQveOZTJc2vFrlvlo8gBnNeQOsuQSZn-TjetQIdIeCCWi9JmuqaLR5MhwthxBRhCMLLTu8-Eb1PFGlY/s200/LARS7NLFrontRed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335350208684346498" border="0" /></a>in 1965 wasn’t so much that he ‘went electric’ (“Like a Rolling Stone” was, after all, already at the top of the charts). It was the way in which he thumbed his nose at them in such a defiant way, and did so in such a public forum.<br /><br />Similarly, Specter’s decision to announce his defection one day prior to Obama’s 100th day in office was hardly the sign of a wallflower. Like Dylan, Specter was given a stage and he used it to maximum benefit.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqqP6wSqlo6Fvr74As674wtOh1TWF5x2IWIG-yrkD-8_fe9l9aagMi7kni54PZiauOsQeuzgGdZW5_q8A6GnWaaQp7M3yUQKq-3yp5ZgUxt8JBXe6YT-ZOCgzEqTjFhrXjMtbCc2-5nM/s1600-h/0429dvs_obama_specter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqqP6wSqlo6Fvr74As674wtOh1TWF5x2IWIG-yrkD-8_fe9l9aagMi7kni54PZiauOsQeuzgGdZW5_q8A6GnWaaQp7M3yUQKq-3yp5ZgUxt8JBXe6YT-ZOCgzEqTjFhrXjMtbCc2-5nM/s200/0429dvs_obama_specter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335358839781807074" border="0" /></a>But let’s be honest. Just as the fans at Newport knew they weren’t going to be able to keep Dylan in their pocket forever, the Republicans <span style="font-style: italic;">had </span>to have seen this coming. Back in February, Obama’s $787 billion dollar stimulus got a total of <span style="font-style: italic;">three</span> Republican votes— and Specter was one of them.<br /><br />Admittedly, politicians cross the aisle all the time <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNj1AJOhyD2pgtbE-a6-EJmZqdLc_BHrw-9n1KDqgPp0hzRhIc-dTrBBgygtu__n8x3laemZDTLlkuE1Ez9coTBBfG1Yfnk1gLbmHIfYjgy1HHtSKnQiRXdu8RF4FX1ya5iuqwH3ID44/s1600-h/Benedict+Arlen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNj1AJOhyD2pgtbE-a6-EJmZqdLc_BHrw-9n1KDqgPp0hzRhIc-dTrBBgygtu__n8x3laemZDTLlkuE1Ez9coTBBfG1Yfnk1gLbmHIfYjgy1HHtSKnQiRXdu8RF4FX1ya5iuqwH3ID44/s200/Benedict+Arlen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335351073499966290" border="0" /></a>to imbue their political capital. But to cross the aisle on<span style="font-style: italic;"> that </span>vote at <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> defining moment in Obama’s young presidency was clearly a telltale sign of things to come, especially considering Specter’s long history of political vacillation.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlowpNTnKh-5Yq0KX8VIfMJeoFcto1zFv4AAjG5NI1y3zktnld8QUx2h63Bw-27M5EKwwOjcwkVosO1OQUoxmeTlvpu9hxFxau1TAnl7s-Jf7BhDTtjecK6sXX0tYJf-v99z7BqoPMZA/s1600-h/Progress.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 79px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlowpNTnKh-5Yq0KX8VIfMJeoFcto1zFv4AAjG5NI1y3zktnld8QUx2h63Bw-27M5EKwwOjcwkVosO1OQUoxmeTlvpu9hxFxau1TAnl7s-Jf7BhDTtjecK6sXX0tYJf-v99z7BqoPMZA/s200/Progress.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335352362849405522" border="0" /></a>There’s no question Specter needs to replenish the capital in his waning political coffers. Polls show the Pennsylvania senator has the support of only 30% of the likely GOP voters in the 2010 primary. But why the seismic shift to the Left? Two words: Barack Obama.<br /><br />Roughly 180,000 party moderates – the very people Specter needs to win the upcoming Republican primary – <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZyqKEOm8wphEVosaxpSiqb1mnBl4JMz423m5qSw-OJVZmyMLLUCRrYTSetI-guaufW0cdyhVcpGcEfcoeD0HT5Q8Lu3zWTUpYgztH1IQLYLlBAehzVQz8y6B-_F04urD_qnJ4iHC3iA/s1600-h/spector+metro.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 82px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZyqKEOm8wphEVosaxpSiqb1mnBl4JMz423m5qSw-OJVZmyMLLUCRrYTSetI-guaufW0cdyhVcpGcEfcoeD0HT5Q8Lu3zWTUpYgztH1IQLYLlBAehzVQz8y6B-_F04urD_qnJ4iHC3iA/s200/spector+metro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335352771283358370" border="0" /></a>switched parties in 2008 to vote for Mr. Obama in the general election. As a result, Specter is seen (and probably accurately so) as a political dead man walking.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwT6HzkDRBAOj1hNUZ8r93EUl0npPXBQQ8otF4c5l3c8Ju7kgJ1xoujg0xl5Ekhx3I9w-Q2A2cVQ5AI2KEpyRLrpDN9R8H52xp9pnpXOn-SPUU7SRXAK_7q0Cg3H6i0xjvkQ1_x_CZDk/s1600-h/dylan_acoustic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 66px; height: 68px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwT6HzkDRBAOj1hNUZ8r93EUl0npPXBQQ8otF4c5l3c8Ju7kgJ1xoujg0xl5Ekhx3I9w-Q2A2cVQ5AI2KEpyRLrpDN9R8H52xp9pnpXOn-SPUU7SRXAK_7q0Cg3H6i0xjvkQ1_x_CZDk/s200/dylan_acoustic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335353010331422706" border="0" /></a>Dylan was at a strikingly similar point in his career when the Festival Committee asked him to headline Newport in 1965. Not that Dylan’s supporters had abandoned him— far from it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj89JAUmETBRdkKpgtXUtlSpIIlHwrhO62cUROUtLCnt_shDXkt0emYygt33R-oX3YCKzB_3R2_dSBWAa5DpTLI5yIdWZBsWX7N8vA19Ulif3TaHdymVPsB3m9ZUZrMufK2siMO0YoZmA/s1600-h/dylan_electric.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 77px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj89JAUmETBRdkKpgtXUtlSpIIlHwrhO62cUROUtLCnt_shDXkt0emYygt33R-oX3YCKzB_3R2_dSBWAa5DpTLI5yIdWZBsWX7N8vA19Ulif3TaHdymVPsB3m9ZUZrMufK2siMO0YoZmA/s200/dylan_electric.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335353417086764274" border="0" /></a> When Dylan walked out on stage that warm July night, he was at the top of his game— loved, admired and perfectly in tune with the times. But Dylan knew something his adorning fans didn’t. It was time to move on. Time to chart a new course. Time to explore a new direction. In short, it was time.<br /><br />It’s one thing to reinvent yourself. As any observant Dylan aficionado knows (is there any other kind?), Dylan was inventing “Dylan” long before he ever got to Newport. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb24LR5Rt5ItFzm3C-kw7xzsHtkrHXc1AbfGdyvpOy-lkngjCnnqoJO_XWKikHWfGJXcLfPXACBMHmQ8gGaBIEkKqQJZLQxSbDxehmWBGhdkis8CSzphOATswnrBsIrSSBqa66r4R1l9Y/s1600-h/593761.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb24LR5Rt5ItFzm3C-kw7xzsHtkrHXc1AbfGdyvpOy-lkngjCnnqoJO_XWKikHWfGJXcLfPXACBMHmQ8gGaBIEkKqQJZLQxSbDxehmWBGhdkis8CSzphOATswnrBsIrSSBqa66r4R1l9Y/s200/593761.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335353641073772834" border="0" /></a>Even politicians need a bit of reinvention from time-to-time. Lest we forget, Ronald Reagan—perhaps the most significant force in the Republican Party in the last 50 years—switched parties in 1962, claiming, “I did not leave the Democratic <span style="font-style: italic;">party</span>, the<span style="font-style: italic;"> party</span> left me.” Sounds remarkably like the rationalization Specter has repeatedly given when pressed to do a little soul searching on why he’s thrown his lot with the Left.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBAIOmVJdgUwjwBhlY89hEFIbtifi7ou7ogSI9ifjjijrPTK9FLkbrpzXq5NhYcKrz2fuZWD0O4umAKGHi-XSFC5hkMcpdBhkIJJ9ld55UzEAY1133BafA6WdPJW4CUrj6q4ULHfSpCY/s1600-h/election+cartoon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBAIOmVJdgUwjwBhlY89hEFIbtifi7ou7ogSI9ifjjijrPTK9FLkbrpzXq5NhYcKrz2fuZWD0O4umAKGHi-XSFC5hkMcpdBhkIJJ9ld55UzEAY1133BafA6WdPJW4CUrj6q4ULHfSpCY/s200/election+cartoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335354066617749986" border="0" /></a>But in the end, Specter’s defection to the Dems is no Newport. Dylan wasn’t closing the door to his legions of supporters; he was opening a new one. He wasn’t walking away from his admirers; he was inviting them to join him. And on the topic of introducing electric music and the years of controversy that followed, for Dylan, "It was honest." Sadly, the same cannot be said for the Pennsylvania politician. For Specter, it was all about self-preservation.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotPDSVQc6NfVHy1LyZP0kRIqwsF9veM6I3Xg4-Yn3ycqIyEU0olVBKia07zx-3jueh0kzLrXR23SQS1OFzEf9BZJJTY9FJvPevSROICZHJBhMzyZr_pMu0kv8zADzSlCoS_wCZd9zV6o/s1600-h/Public+Opinion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotPDSVQc6NfVHy1LyZP0kRIqwsF9veM6I3Xg4-Yn3ycqIyEU0olVBKia07zx-3jueh0kzLrXR23SQS1OFzEf9BZJJTY9FJvPevSROICZHJBhMzyZr_pMu0kv8zADzSlCoS_wCZd9zV6o/s200/Public+Opinion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335354344339713090" border="0" /></a>There’s no question the times in which we live are uncertain. And, as history has repeated shown, no one bears the brunt of these changing times more than our politicians and cultural icons.<br /><br /><object width="360" height="275"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMxJFsyR85o&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMxJFsyR85o&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="360" height="275"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Dylan opens his 3-song set at Newport with 'Maggie's Farm'.</span></span><br /><br />Dylan was right. We really <span style="font-style: italic;">don’t </span>need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows; public opinion will do just fine…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsf8uav_i5yvH7pX5eFAd9uIYj8VAQPlk21M6C8YHK7Ma2lHxElt5omhsP8Y_FRu38XswkcynbR5jbMCf-0omZq19BjLATg2wWEXlmSFCw24FQ6gz9p78A-sY-8XCkoZkQF9jOraiBz4/s1600-h/Dylan+Cartoon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsf8uav_i5yvH7pX5eFAd9uIYj8VAQPlk21M6C8YHK7Ma2lHxElt5omhsP8Y_FRu38XswkcynbR5jbMCf-0omZq19BjLATg2wWEXlmSFCw24FQ6gz9p78A-sY-8XCkoZkQF9jOraiBz4/s200/Dylan+Cartoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335354706552292674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Well, I try my best</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">To be just like I am,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">But everybody wants you</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">To be just like them.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-718589808666392863.post-4012396417518510812009-05-03T12:34:00.000-07:002009-05-13T09:35:29.452-07:00Brought ‘Together Through Life’: Are Dylan’s new album, Obama’s first 100 days true milestones or just grist for the mill?<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Talk about me babe, if you must.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Throw out the dirt; pile on the dust.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I'd do the same thing if I could</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">You know what they say? They say it's all good.</span><br /><br />Last week marked important milestones for two figures who factor prominently in this blog.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eQ5OB-_ZDVu7wD1rE0vyqUjMQn6QYVXiJUam-qakIrLrc0x8hgetjOzGPguYOBFy_eLOnYko2Ez2vwBLLHN4-Th9rylV24uPt26E6xOq6M4lWtxlhl8fsOeA5e61-0zgl2ZNoqtoiHo/s200/Album+Ad.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332055816781527442" border="0" />On Tuesday, Bob Dylan released his 33rd studio album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Together Through Life</span>. Twenty-four hours later, Barack Obama crossed an equally transformative transom— his first 100 days in office.<br /><br />Obama’s press conference was characterized by a cool, calm detachment emblematic of the man himself.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jxNHGahR9ndGKloD1zvaNUC_T1cHxcaGVqPPLCcJVMes_tFonl26FfuKz7rRBzesYdWVWYZDjxh7Pw_0zY4tvonZ8D8fyhuFcIH3xp4hxOlEJdwDs2LYLQOSYMEFKjns27gaHKFBn_g/s200/obama-pressconference.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332056501997654754" border="0" />Stepping to the mike, he urged to press corps to take a deep, reflective breath: “Please be seated. Before we begin tonight, I just want to provide everyone with a few brief updates on some of the challenges we’re dealing with right now.”<br /><br />Opening his first album in three years with a rollicking rim shot recalling an electrifying time when he was in his prime, any pretense of cool detachment on the the part of Dylan was obliterated by what can best be described as the musical equivalent of hell, fire and brimstone.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 161px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDS0_TmArC4rIgjQU7DUUeDkjYg0TFexiDSL0U1lJ3JBERfT4ClWcr4EGNbII2_ql9t5Pbjvvo87K0LFM5Up3b2XsbOyw5svTOGpIUIsK70WXoFltGR-JS6UOT7aHRiZHZveCWyw-zf4/s200/Bob_Dylan_3color.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332058549404325106" border="0" />“The most important thing we now know about [him] is…that he means to confront that way of life directly and profoundly, to exchange sand for rock if he can. Whether you agree with him or not — whether you think he is too ambitious or just plain wrong — his is as serious and challenging [a figure] as we have had in quite some time.”<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>It turns out, <span style="font-style: italic;">Time</span> magazine reporter, Joe Klein, was referring to the impassioned political journeyman from Illinois. Of course, he could just as easily have been writing about a traveling minstrel from Minnesota who goes by name of Bob Dylan.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwFnpqV9OYO45uipCW2QCkkNA1nl0kxSQtkWScmm3UxY4KHALMqS7K5g5PrzUM7Vqaeo6e7jEHiPJ6KdAx1T7mZkde0xPMpgrIzUVj5zhwKo1dotKqhiX-ohKUq7K521Roxfy4HgX9Ms/s200/art.obama.chavez.afp.gi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332058883368304802" border="0" />Bar a few well documented missteps, the press has uniformly given Obama high marks. Their assessment of his first 100 days has been no exception. As presidential historian, Doug Brinkley, observed: "Nobody will ever be able to accuse him of being an idle man during his first 100 days. He's clearly showing himself to be a progressive in the tradition of Franklin Roosevelt, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson, with the moral core of Jimmy Carter."<br /><br />And while Obama’s legions of champions probably don’t think of the man who led them out of 30 years of political desolation as a gangly gimp with a Boston accent who can’t make up his mind which side of the street to stand on, such a character would be very much at home on the new Dylan album.<br /><br />It would hard to deny that something very haunting and mysterious is happening in the border town terrain Dylan traverses on his new album. <img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxT9yybJZ6WjuVlGfCxZ3zy2SkkQADnbW1t3v-0eh1GJ-jSXYKD4OocW6pAdfDNf3EiPkLnKrejfP7e7FBVMepe5L-cRR1MIqv6AYoUCdS5QKjGSt3sQ3k_LChgjuFr70uov9ZvO-Y03g/s200/High-Noon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332062015696657874" border="0" />But whether Dylan’s Tex Mex influenced song cycle ends up becoming infectious part of our collective musical DNA, or just another benign addition to the Dylan discography isn’t entirely clear yet. As always is the case with Dylan, the prognosis is never that cut and dry:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DYLAN STILL THE MASTER</span><br />Sat, May 2, 2009 © Copyright (c) <span style="font-style: italic;">The London Free Journal</span><br />By DARRYL STERDAN, SUN MEDIA MUSIC CRITIC<br />“Well, after nearly 68 years and 33 studio albums, the master still hasn't lost his touch. <span style="font-style: italic;">Together Through Life,</span> like the last trio of releases in his remarkable late-career resurgence, is another layered work of genius that seems straightforward, but inexorably draws you deeper into its web with every listen.”<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">NEW DYLAN FALLS SHORT OF CLASSIC</span><br />May 2, 2009 © Copyright (c) <span style="font-style: italic;">The Edmonton Journal</span><br />By TOM MURRAY, freelance<br />“Good, but not great. In the end, it feels as though Dylan is in stopgap mode again, releasing a collection of OK to good songs because he feels it's time.”<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">THE ROLLING STONE REVIEW</span><br />April 23, 2009 © Copyright (c) <span style="font-style: italic;">Rolling Stone</span><br />By DAVID FRICKE<br />“Ultimately, <span style="font-style: italic;">Together Through Life</span> is a mixed bag of this decade's Dylan — impulsive, caustic, sentimental, long done with the contrived details of contemporary record-making. That hardened, bleating voice is also perfect for these times: A nation drunk on hope less than six months ago now drowns in red ink and pink slips.”<br /><br />Of course, you don’t need <span style="font-style: italic;">Rolling Stone </span>to know which way the wind<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLG5jOcXkl2Kd-w4oNuEu1ramSl5SqaiSwajiimZijBaJSFpvL3eolzx20XoXJ3sMbjeM_-O_bghxXTY9SpGC8h645nts6XTSF0C1prucoZBpOPchHRObvDa09UiXcIRONPgqKTBeWOE/s1600-h/RS+Dylan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLG5jOcXkl2Kd-w4oNuEu1ramSl5SqaiSwajiimZijBaJSFpvL3eolzx20XoXJ3sMbjeM_-O_bghxXTY9SpGC8h645nts6XTSF0C1prucoZBpOPchHRObvDa09UiXcIRONPgqKTBeWOE/s200/RS+Dylan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332062717383900562" border="0" /></a> blows. And while nearly everyone who's heard the new Dylan album has an opinion it, in the end Erik Thompson of <span style="font-style: italic;">Culture Bully </span>probably got it right when he wrote: “….reviewing a new record by Bob Dylan is a bit like reviewing the Roman Colosseum (sic); you might not like the way it looks now, but there is no denying the cultural significance of the structure and the history found within. [Dylan] has indeed slayed his share of lions over the years, and that the blood of those battles still colors his music even now.”<br /><br />A charismatic, youthful president’s first 100 days in office; the release of a hauntingly alluring album that recalls a century of America popular music. Considering the place these men hold in our collective cultural imagination, the dogged determination to put their respective milestones into some sort of perspective was probably, in hindsight, inevitable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqY_w9XBrHELxkEeIn26P73q0BZY1qahPAwhQj00krma0z6UYIMnhp5WLf6NnErPcMMYoApLSSTF1_8GcEjyAjr3F1V_Oihsw6RuhOkk7qqlwXTJlxr8Y7RFgydZSFWS2C2i4XNbc8mCE/s1600-h/dylanobama.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqY_w9XBrHELxkEeIn26P73q0BZY1qahPAwhQj00krma0z6UYIMnhp5WLf6NnErPcMMYoApLSSTF1_8GcEjyAjr3F1V_Oihsw6RuhOkk7qqlwXTJlxr8Y7RFgydZSFWS2C2i4XNbc8mCE/s200/dylanobama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332063351224862050" border="0" /></a><br />The irony, of course, is that perspective is best achieved looking back. And that's something both have vehemently vowed never to do…<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfVo-hRbEAgxIdyRN3WQGKYRWD5zuyhoxdY2r4u6H7g_l0g63LKJPkv_oNjJHPPq5dFezeUtZJqqrAPmyhuMkE1c-naWgbkCO6S_J948NGwLwFxcm-hzMa_OYYuv6zVskPEbkKnHe-Zo/s200/bob-dylan-cowboy-columbia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332063492867313970" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Brick by brick, they tear you down.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">A teacup of water is enough to drown.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">You oughta know, if they could, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">They would whatever goin' down, it's all good.</span>THOMAS GRASTYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04436787409030343216noreply@blogger.com2