That being said: "Sinclair Lewis was right. It CAN and probably WILL happen here." Sinclair Lewis said lots of stuff. Lots of times, he was right. For instance: "When Fascism come to the United States, it will be draped in the flag and carrying a Bible." Michelle Bachmann is currently stirring her Witches' Pot with a Pitchfork Full of Fear and Loathing, telling her Fan Base that the Rapture will happen on Obama's watch and that it's all Oil Can Barry's Fault. But, like I said: "I am fairly Apolitical" about the whole shiteree.
This rather raucous piece of Mothermania is from some undisclosed location, although it sounds like they're in Helsinki, given the stage banter that's somewhat revealing. No matter where you are, it's still relevant today. If you want the "straight version," you can look it up on YouTube. Maybe you own a copy of the LP record, like I do. Who knows?
Then, there's always this, as a fall-back:
I remember the D.C. Riots of the early 60's. My Dad was going to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md., at the time. He was a member of the United States Navy's National Band. I'm a White Kid and am from San Francisco. In D.C., I went to a Public School that was 90% Black. I thought it was interesting and had a swell time until the Vice Principal yanked me out of my desk for "talking during Graham Crackers and Milk Time." Yanked me so hard that something inside my ear "cracked." I decked the V.P. with a swift kick to the shin (I was a Portly Kid) and ran all the way home. My Mom had me go to school "on base" after that. Then, thank God, we moved back to San Francisco.
Frank Zappa was born in Baltimore. I think there's a statue of him there.
Yesterday, in my own little peaceful community/neighborhood, I was asked/yelled at by some Punk-Assed, 20-Something-ish, Chickenshit driver, after he came roaring up to a crosswalk I was trying to use: "What, Shit Head? Didn't you think I was going to stop?" Too bad he immediately had his power window rolled up and I didn't get a chance to respond. I just thought: "Fuck it." and walked home, stopping at my friend, the German Car Mechanic's, place to chat a bit.
In the end, NOT confronting Mister Chickenshit was probably the best choice, although, if I would have had a rock in my pocket, he'd be replacing a windshield. There are way too many idiots fucked up on crank, whizzing around town like Pedestrians Don't Exist. I don't "know" what ANYONE in a car is "going to do," Period. I am not a fucking mind reader. I do not weigh as much as your Souped Up Rice Grinder Automobile. I enjoy being alive.
People need to remember that we all have an asshole. In our pants and in our minds. I don't let the one in my head get out of control very often.
"This, too, shall pass."
-Doc
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