Reading Mr. Capodice's comment in my most recent smoking-related post, I must once again commend his tobacco leaf rhapsody, the scallywag. To wit, I think it's beautiful and evocative. Perhaps while nicotine gives users little in the way of accute intoxication it teaches them valuable lessons about desire and longing. In any event, I'll take the poetrey where I can find it.

I resonate with Nick's sense of temporal displacement, the continual feeling that this is not the right time for me. While he longs for a rum-runner's card-sharking black and white classic paradise, I find myself wishing I could ramble the great green beatific earth in the era just before "peace and love" became a marketing slogan, when hard bop, bluegrass and the first strains of rock and roll were the tunes of the day, and real outlaw culture was creeping up everywhere in the shadows of main street USA. I've thought about this often in my day, and the only conclusion that I can come to is that living in the past is always an exercise in frustration. Are we with our affections for less popular species of retrospective living any less ineffectual than the hipsters who merrily wallow in their 70s/80s electroclash mishmash?

Today's youth are too reactionary for their own good, living submerged in passed-on fashions, the regugitated symbols of another generation. If we are to truly ride forward in our breif time alive, we'll have to really try and come up with something honest and powerful, more than just style. We must plumb the depths of our historical affections, not in search of arcane minutae to display for one another in the grand and primal tussle that is the social pecking order, but to seek out the pearls of truth and essances of being that are the source of an era's cultural gravity. These elements of an epoch transcend time -- I fully believe this -- and if we are to mint a bold new future, these distilled liquors of the past are a necessary ingredient in our progressive potion.

I still hold that the act of smoking itself -- or any drug use for that matter -- has little intrisically to do with the era that one is whisful for. It may be an elegant symbol, but symbols are merely signifiers of deeper, more tidal forces. What does sucking down the fumes of dried tobacco have to do with a vagabond's spirit? Surely it's a poetic gesture of self-immolation, but just as surely the gamut of human experience provides plentiful alternatives, perhaps even superior ones.

I believe the whithering we see in our world -- this slow creeping end to fun and intrigue and mystery and romance and truth and passion -- has much more substantial roots than our lastest public health pogrom. While is seems we must agree to disagree on the merits of this particular point of order, I'm ready willing and able to join with anyone and everyone who wants to strike a blow at the heart of stale smug fat bland starbucks-bathed cubicle-pushing euphamism-spouting bullshit 21st Century America. There's an alternative to all this plastic; if you will it, it is no dream.

Here is one of the most worth-reading pieces of opinion/global criticism I've yet read in these troubled times, clever invokations and all there is to be bitter about, yet still some causes for hope. Arundhati Roy of the Guardian tells it like it is (fixed link!)

Also, for the more rational of heart and head, here's a quite interesting analaysis of metaphors and war. I especially like the conclusion:

First, the anti-war movement, properly understood, is not just, or even primarily, a movement against the war. It is a movement against the overall direction that the Bush administration is moving in. Second, such a movement, to be effective, needs to say clearly what it is for, not just what it is against.

Third, it must have a clearly articulated moral vision, with values rather than mere interests determining its political direction.

Amen to that, brother. Like I've been saying...

If you havn't read back-to-iraq lately, it's time to catch up. Christopher has made it to Iraqi Kurdistan. The acccount of the border crossing is a harrowing read!

As mom sez in the comment, english.aljazeera.net is online, though it appears only the headlines are working at this time. This is good news for fair and balanced meta-coverage.

Interesting update on the articles not appearing on aljazeera.net: the content is there (look at the page source) but it's not being displayed because of the craptacular MS html coding. My professional view looking at the HTML source for those pages... it's an abomination, renderable in Explorer, but not in Mozilla, Navagator or Safari. Looks like I'm back to using IE for a while. Score one for the bad guys!

Some lively responses to the smoking ban post from Nick and Alex. Thanks for the input, even if it is contrary to my position. I suggest everyone read the comments, as they're good representations of the pro-smoking viewpoint from both a smoker and a (usually) non-smoker. I must say that Nick's rhapsodic appeals don't hit home for me. Two posts ago:


[NYC is about] sheisters, grifters, 'if a guy gives you a ration of crap, flick a cigarette in his eye and kick him in the knee', a city that was once owned by a one-legged guy from Amsterdam, a town where you actually get a buy-back if you drink a lot, where there are transvestites, where Limehouse Chappie opened up the first 'big store' in the 30's, the only place in the world that embodies 100% class and sleaze at the same time.

Other than the flicked cigarette part, I fail to see the connection between any of the above and smoking, but that's more likely than not because I'm not a smoker and have little emotional chemical to the chemical or the act. Smoking fails to resonate with any of the imagery he puts forth. Nick writes that "The cigarette is an INTEGRAL part of a style of living." Does that mean that as a non-smoker I will never have that same style of living? Being as I like the images he evokes, I hope not.

One other thing: "But it's a habit, and smart people will soon quit." No they won't. This is something I feel very strongly about. My father, a very smart man, smoked for 30+ years until prostate cancer gave him a wake-up call. My mother, a very smart lady, smokes even today, despite the fact that her brother -- another highly intelligent individual -- passed away of lung cancer after 20+ years of lighting up regularly. Nicotine is the most addictive drug known to mankind. More addictive than cocaine or heroin. The longer you use it and the earlier you started, the less likely you are to quit. Smoking is not a habbit, like picking your nose. It's an addiction. That's a fact, and it has fuck all to do with how smart you are.

I'm headed up to hang with Pete for a day, maybe two.

In the meantime, enjoy this re-run from last year:

January 29th 2002: The Troubles

The troubles are with me strong. An abortive day. I made it all the way to Grand Central, eventual destination White Plains, when I got the call that the whole show is postponed until tomorrow. Then waiting around for the bike shop to open (need a new derailer) and it never does. Sitting in a trendy Williamsburg cafe, wanting not to look the part that I'm looking. Like a fucking hipster. In retaliation, I composed a list of ways to fight back:

• Smile Lots (don't pout, whine, complain, bitch)
• Love to Sweat (work, exercise, exert yourself)
• Embody Raging Lumberjack Masculinity
• Take a Western (as in west-coast) Attitude
• Maintain Unbridled Optomism in the face of total narcissistic cynicism

Also, reading "Sometimes a Great Notion" by good old dead Ken Keasy. He's from my neck of the woods, and his writing makes me miss Oregon something powerful.

Sorry, I couldn't resist the idea of doing a "re-run." Hope everyone is safe and sane. FYI: Big party at my place on Saturday! Details? Email me.

Happy April everyone. I'm feeling foolish as ever. Last night I went with Sasha and saw this great band, Cover Me Badd, who play rockin' covers with a trombone instead of vocals. Some of it is just smart-kid irony kicks, but some of it was deep and soulful. Cult of Personality and a Christina Agulara tune were the faves. Drinking Pabst and talking with some of her friends, it was nice and real. I took my bike, so I raced her cab back to Brooklyn, arriving sweaty and getting blissfully sweatier into the night. The trust is growing.

Well, Capodice made a comment, and so I figure I'd better register my opinion for everyone. Last night the smoking ban officially went into effect in NYC bars. People are pissed about this, and while I think the ban is of debatable ethical value, I have to admit I enjoy not smelling like an ash tray when I come home. For me the issue is one of aesthetics and not one of health, and on that level I'm pleased at what I've got.

So here's the deal. The legal rationale for this bit of legislation centers around workplace environment laws. It's an accepted medical fact that second-hand smoke is not good for you. There's some debate as to exactly how bad it is, but the round consensus is that there are negative health effects. As such, since people make a living working in bars, it's argued that they need to be smoke-free environments to protect worker safety.

This is kind of a bullshit rationalization. Not because "people who don't want to have second-hand smoke shoulnd't work in bars" -- if you buy that then you'd also have to buy that people who don't want to be sexually harassed shouldn't work for Clarance Thomas -- but because there are other ways of protecting workers from second-hand smoke. Theoretically, they could also issue resporatory protection devices to bar workers, but that doesn't serve the broader social agenda of deterring smoking.

And I suppose that's the crux of the issue: the legal part is a bit of a hack. I tend to support the broader social agenda to curtail smoking, mainly because it annoys me aesthetically and has contributed to the deaths of people I've loved, but I dislike the big-brotherish overtones. So I'm conflicted. On the one hand, people should have the right to smoke. On the other hand, I don't want to have to deal with their smoking when I go to a bar.

The whole "if there were a market for non-smoking bars, then there'd be non-smoking bars" is a red herring. See, because of the extremely addictive nature of nicotine (update: Luke sends me a study backing this up) and the inherant social dynamics of groups, there would never be a market for non-smoking bars in spite of the fact that the a good portion of the bar-going population doesn't smoke. Nicotine addicts are tenacious about their habit -- it's the most addictive drug known to man; look it up -- and are spread fairly thoroughly throughout the population. People tend to go to bars with other people, and more likely than not there will be at least one smoker in many of the groups that make up a bar's clientele on any given evening. So it becomes a question of exclusion. Non-smokers will willingly go to smoking establishments to appease their nicotine-addicted friends. Smokers are notoriously crabby when asked to make the same gesture in return. As such, there will never be a strong market for non-smoking bars.

The whole thing is complex because it's tied up in addiction and emotions and people wanting to be able to hang out with their friends. It's not a simple matter of law. Heretofore non-smokers have been forced to make a sacrifice, and not an inconsiderate one, to to go a bar with their friends. Starting today the tables are turned, and while it's not justice by and stretch of the imagination, it is also not unpleasent to be on the empowered side of the equation.

Apparently, a dead Marine was being paraded around in Southern Iraq. Nasty business, but not unexpected in a time of war. What's very interesting is this conversation thread on this military discussion board. People are understandably pissed:


I can honestly say... that I have never been so pissed off in my life. I am on the verge of sh1ting nails right about now. I can't even see straight right now, damn them all to hell.

And of course there's the obligatory bigotry:


This is what the muslim faith is all about as for me ALL muslims are the enemy! there are no good ones! DEATH To ISLAM!


And finally, the desire to pull the nuclear trigger:

This is an outrage!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We should make Iraq glow in the fu****G Dark!!!!!!!!!!




WTFO!!!!!!!!

Tell bleeding heart, liberal, peace loving Americans to suck it the F**K UP!!!!

We are no longer using ROE's. PERIOD!! If it anit American or British it's dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I highlight this now not to mock anyones anger or outrage, but to point out how quickly war gets out of control. You can bet the actual Marines on the ground are at lest as angry -- if not more so -- as the people posting the comments. You can also bet that your average Iraqi has about the same reaction when we blow up his/her loved ones by accident. For every American who's typing "DEATH TO ISLAM" on the web, there's a corrisponding Iraqi (or Syrian, or Iranian, or Saudi, or Egyptian, or Turk, or...) who's thinking "DEATH TO AMERICA" and getting ready to make trouble. This is how things escalate. Angry Marines get trigger-happy, make mistakes, mistakes mint more guerilla fighters, guerilla fighters pick off and futher infuriate the Marines, who retaliate in kind, and the world stands aghast as we sink into the horrible cycle of quagmirish violence. Why are we doing this again? Stop the train, I want to get off.

So that's depressing. But here's something that'll chase anyone's blues away: the Donald Rumsfeld Soundbyte Archive. BBC radio has apparently been airing a "Donald Rumsfeld Soundbyte of the Week" for some time. I suggest starting with the "Donald Rumsfeld soundbite competition" link. It gives you 10 of the best.

Just read that the commission to investigate 9-11 has not been funded as expected. The WaPo reports:

The White House's war-related proposal announced on Tuesday included no new money for the commission, prompting members and some lawmakers to begin lobbying for the funding.

We spend $70M+ learning about Bill Clinton's blow job, and we're ponying up $70B+ to lob explosives into middle eastern cities and get a lot of people killed, but we can't scrounge up any money to investigate the most grevious loss of life due to an intentional act on American soil ever. I don't want to be paranoid, but either these people are fucking idiots, or they're trying to hide something. In either case, spread the outrage.

Blurt blurt blurt. I wrote a lot here last night, so I'll take it easy now. Real quick: sorry to anyone who couldn't get here yesterday. According to my hosting provider, we were under a DDoS attack -- something I recently wrote about. No reason to beleive that it has anything to do with me though: I think there are about 100 domains on the server.

You'll note a new banner on my sidebar there: "Pussy, it's what's for dinner." My friends Jessica and Nicole have opened up a cafepress shop hawking various wares emblazoned with that inscription. I urge you to check them out and pass the link along!

Finally, I'm tickled that I got three "don't be a trator" votes on my poll there. I'm glad to have readers who don't share my politics.

But we all love America. Just now I was down at the Stop 1 (my local bodega) and waiting in line to buy half and half behind three Irishmen -- brogues so thick I thought they were polish at first -- and their black friend, loading up on buttered rolls before work at the latino-run market. That's something I treasure. Anywhere in the West you can see bourgeois internationals mixing it up, but only in America to the working classes so frequently comingle, god love 'em.