This space is dedicated to the proposition that we need to know the history of the struggles on the left and of earlier progressive movements here and world-wide. If we can learn from the mistakes made in the past (as well as what went right) we can move forward in the future to create a more just and equitable society. We will be reviewing books, CDs, and movies we believe everyone needs to read, hear and look at as well as making commentary from time to time. Greg Green, site manager
Once Again, One Johnny Rocco, More Or Less, Is Not Worth Dying For-With Robert Mitchum, Jane Russell and Gloria Graham’s “Macao” (1951) In Mind
As Told To Lance Lawrence by Frankie Devlin
Macao, starring Jane Russell, Gloria Grahame, Robert Mitchum, 1951
Frank McCloud, he of the U.S. Army officer corps and a fistful of serious medals slogging through hell-hole Europe during World War II said it best, said it best one night when we were in the Park Plaza Hotel in Boston trading shots of whiskey shortly after the war, maybe three years after, and he was trying to put his pre-war life back together, trying to get back in the publishing business but was meeting resistance at every level -“One Johnny Rocco, more or less, was not worth dying for.” Meaning he was fed up to his eyebrows with defending this and that, defending democracy when the old crap was just rising back up again after he thought the war had put an end to that. See Frank had run into Johnny Rocco, everybody back then knew Johnny ran every evil thing dope, gambling, numbers, high and low-end pornography, women doing everything possible with man, woman, beast and that was just the top of the iceberg, as the king-pin gangster boss out of Chi town, Chicago down in the Keys, down in Key Largo I think it was not Key West, when Johnny was doing some evil scheme to get back on top. When Frank told me that, that dust up he had with Johnny I was all ears. Despite his keen observation Frank went head to head with Johnny once Johnny made the fatal mistake of trying to mess with Frank’s woman. Under those circumstances all bets were off, all wisdom floated down the Gulf, as they should but Frank’s advice is still stand-up stuff.
Soldier Cocrane should have listened to those words, listened to his fellow ex-soldier it would have saved him a lot of grief. Soldier from the time he was a kid out of Brooklyn hustling milk money from young kids had been nothing but a two-bit grifter, a small-time operator who had been run out of the States. Some say it was over a woman, another man’s woman, in a bar, drinking, and that was that. He either killed the other guy, or so grievously wounded him that he died later in the hospital. Took the guy’s car, wallet and woman spent a few days running her to ground and when the news came in slipped out the back door one night with her tied to the bedposts. Here is where chance is a funny goddess, can play mean tricks. He decided to head west instead of east that sultry night when things got too hot on the news of the other guy’s death and Soldier decided he was built for love not cages.
Like every small time grifter, every two-bit operator who tried to horn in on a good thing that was already somebody else’s nut Soldier got run out of a few places in the Orient too, the usual, Singapore, Hong Kong, Saigon so only one place was left-the sinkhole, lands’ end the colony of Macao in the days when that was something out of the Wild West in America. Late Chance Ranch some guy called it when he was writing a novel based on the place. Every illegal venture in the world, dope, gambling, women again being just the normal evil stuff and descending from there to deep hells with sadistic adventures the least of it. Let’s put it this way, the way that safe from harm novelist put it in one of the books he which he set in Macao-life was cheap, cheap and expendable. Soldier had hopped the boat with about three bucks in his pocket, the clothes on his back-and an idea. An idea he would ask Vin Halloran to put him to work. Yes, that Vin Halloran, the American gangster who “owned” Macao, owned every Portuguese colonial official and cop worth owning and had everything tied up with a bow.
There, maybe elsewhere too they mention his name in hushed tones. One hundred years from now their progeny will be speaking in hush tones about Vin, about the days when men were not afraid to get blood on their hands- or order the hit.
Not a bad idea on Soldier’s part since Macao was the end of the road. If he couldn’t score there he might as well have taken a ride in some sampan and put a hole in the bottom. He tried to move up in class, maybe be an enforcer, a hit man, a repo man for Vin. Made sense since Soldier was rugged enough, big broad shoulders, barren chest, good enough looks that no woman would throw him out of bed and so no public eyesore for Vin to bother about like some of the help whom he had to keep strictly for night alley night work. Except on the trip over from the mainland he met this Jane, Jane something but you know as well as I do it was alias so don’t worry about last names. A brassy buxom no holds barred dame, hell, lets’ call things by their right name, a tramp, any man’s woman, any man with some dough and a bottle maybe, or dope she looked the type. Without getting hung up on silly morality in those days, now too the last I heard, no decent dame was heading to Macao when Vin was running the show. Period. So, although she claimed to be a song bird, a canary, and did have one of those smoky voices she would have had a hard time getting her cabaret license in New York City. Especially when Billie was around. She was either going to some high-end whore-house Vin ran for Asian businessmen with a taste for the wild side or into the South China Sea. Maybe join Soldier in that holey sampan.
Here’s the funny part, not so funny maybe but you never know what will twist a man’s mind. Vin went for her, went big, gave her a spot singing and a nice nest. Turned out she could sing a bit but even then she was nothing but bedrooms and booze. Worse, worse for her and maybe she would not have to bother with that sampan gag was this other dame, this Gloria something, again don’t worry about last names because when the smoke cleared she would have another one didn’t want Janie girl around her man. Period. The Soldier-Jane match-up was not made in heaven. No way.
Back to Soldier and his dreams since this Jane would probably land on her back whatever happened. That good idea, that enforcer, gunsel, hit man idea went nowhere. Vin was not in the market for gringo enforcers since he had half the Tong Society on the payroll so Soldier was down on his heels. Vin gave him five bucks and the air. Then this sleaze-ball salesman, a guy he had almost met on the boat over, made Soldier a proposition, makes him a sub-salesman, no, independent contractor, I guess you would call it. Except it would all turn out to be a ruse, bullshit. See he was really New York City cop who was on Vin’s trail because another NYC cop had been trying to bust Vin and would up down in some sinkhole for his efforts. Vin had started out in New York and the cops there were looking to clean up their cold files docket by bringing his in for the third degree. The problem for the coppers was that Vin was invincible in Macao in those days as long as he didn’t go into international waters, the three-mile limit. Smart guy, mostly, that Vin and maybe the locals were not wrong to whisper his name in their dreams after all.
Dink salesman, Bill Bendix, or something like that although he used another name, names, conned Soldier into doing his legwork for some commission, a few thou which must have looked good to Soldier since was living off the cuff. The deal the Bendix put forward was to sell Vin a high-end diamond necklace cheap and Soldier would get his cut from that end. Except silly Billy forgot to say said necklace was already owned by one Vin Halloran who had been trying to sell the damn thing in Hong Kong where his agent fell down, copped a plea and gave the necklace up to get to some safe house in America.
Vin therefore took umbrage when Soldier presented the proposition. Threw him in irons, ready to throw him into the South China Sea with or without sampan if necessary. It is hard to read what this Jane was thinking, making she had had sweaty dreams, although who knows really but she switched sides. Queen Jane was giving up her kingdom with Vin for no known reason when she decided that she should share her fate with Soldier who was getting help from that blonde bundle of lust who was looking to get Jane the hell out of Macao. When the story came out later it seems that Vin was hard on his women like a lot of guys, like Johnny Rocco, hell, like Soldier with that fluff he killed that deadass guy over. Once Jane, and Gloria too, gave the drift on Vin and his sadistic habits, once Soldier claimed Jane for his own, that taboo messing with a guy’s woman is what tagged Vin for the undertaker, for the big step off. This is what I never figured about a smart guy like Vin though he decided to go to Hong Kong to get that freaking two-bit necklace (against his whole operation profits) stepping out of the three mile zone and easy bait for the international police once Soldier decided to drop the dime. That stoolie business got him maybe a new lease on life since the coppers were going to go to bat for him with the New York authorities. Got him feeling good about doing his good deed to save the world from bums like Vin, guys whom he too thought would vanish once the war cleaned up the world’s mess.
Still Frank’s advice would have saved Soldier a lot of grief since two things happened after Vin went to sleep with the fishes. Gerry O’Leary, the rising American gangster out of Albany, New York moving up the food chain took over Vin’s operations, streamlined everything and made plenty of profitable changes like cutting the bribery payroll putting some poor Portuguese coppers on public relief or something. And Jane decided she liked the idea of luxury on Macao better than being some housewife in the Bronx and dumped Soldier for Gerry. Yeah, Frank had it right, right as rain. (I heard later she was running that high end whorehouse for Asian businessmen with a taste for the wild side and Gloria was running the gambling tables. Jesus.)
Markin comment: I have always thought the late songwriter/storyteller Utah Phillips' little spoken ditty-"Talking NPR Blues" hit the nail on the head. And with none of the endless NPR begging for money either. Thanks Utah.
The Talking NPR Blues
By U. Utah Phillips
Spoken in time
I turned on my radio… spun the dial
Thought I'd listen to some news for a while
I grabbed the knob, spun it around,
Got NPR… here's what I found…
Real news? Hardly a trace
Just one damn marathon market place
The Nasdaq's up, the Dow's in the cellar
And NPR sold out to Rockefeller
Hostile take over… Real hostile.
Well I hear about all the anti trust
And all the day traders who bit the dust
Mergers, buyouts and acquisitions
Low down crooks in high positions
Wheelers, dealers, and CEO's
Fired and paid off through the nose
Buying yachts and fancy homes
With the bail out money from the savings and loans
And I get pissed… Off that is.
It's dot com this and dot com that
The underwriters are getting fat
On airwaves stole from you and me
By a bunch of thieves called the FCC
They don't give a damn what we want and need
They've all caved in to corporate greed
And sold us out to the ruling class
Well the whole damn bunch can kiss my… …Dot Com!
This is a family show folks
The FCC says watch your language
English
What's yours?
I got tired of being treated like a veg
So I called up the station and canceled my pledge
In a mighty act of liberation
Sent the money off to my community station
I said "I love you"
But if you blow it
I'll sure as hell let you know it
I'll knock the radio off the shelf
Buy a transmitter and do it myself
Whitebeard the Pirate
This is radio station H O B O
Broadcasting on a vagrancy of 60 to 90 days
Signing off
For now.
Prior to its designation by Congress in
1954 as Veterans Day, November 11 was known as Armistice Day. World War I –
known at the time as “The Great War” – officially ended when the Treaty of
Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919. However, fighting ceased seven months
earlier when an armistice or temporary cessation of hostilities, between the
Allied nations and Germany went into effect on the eleventh day of the eleventh
month. For that reason, November 11, 1918, is generally regarded as the end of
“the war to end all wars.” In recognition of the significance of that date, in
1926 Congress resolved that “this date should be commemorated with thanksgiving
and prayer and exercises to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual
understanding between nations.”
Statement of Purpose
We, having dutifully served our nation, do hereby affirm our
greater responsibility to serve the cause of world peace. To this end we will
work, with others
§To increase public awareness of the costs of war;
§To restrain our government from intervening, overtly and
covertly, in the internal affairs of other nations;
§To end the arms race and to reduce and eventually eliminate
nuclear weapons;
§To seek justice for veterans and victims of war;
§To abolish war as an instrument of national policy.
To achieve these goals, members of Veterans For Peace pledge
to use non-violent means and to maintain an organization that is both
democratic and open with the understanding that all members are trusted to act
in the best interests of the group for the larger purpose of world peace.
It is believed that the death of his friend and former
student, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, was the inspiration for the poem written by
Major John McCrae, a surgeon attached to 1st Brigade, Canadian Field
Artillery. Helmer was a popular young officer in the 1st Brigade
who, on the morning of Sunday, May 2, 1915, left his dugout and was killed
instantly by a direct hit from an 8 inch German shell in the second week of
fighting during the Second Battle of Ypres. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later
that day. In the absence of a chaplain, Major McCrae conducted a simple service
at the graveside, reciting from memory some passages from the Church of
England’s ‘Order of Burial of the Dead.’
Major
John McCrae
The next day, sitting on the back of an
ambulance parked near the dressing station just a few hundred yards north of
Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. In the nearby cemetery,
McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of
Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious time scribbling fifteen lines
of verse in a notebook – what would become one of the most memorable war poems
ever written.
Armistice (Veterans) Day For Peace
November 11,
2017
2:30 PM –
3:30 PM
Samual Adams
Park
Boston
Massachusetts
PROGRAM
Leftist Marching Band/Voice Opposition Bring Us Together Music
Dan Luker, Smedley Butler, Welcome
VFP Coordinator
Doug Stuart, Smedley Butler, VFP Opening Words-What Is Armistice Day?
Pat
Scanlon, Smedley Butler, VFP David
Spinney, Presente
This
program is dedicated to his memory
Paul Atwood – VFP, Marine Corps, U.S. Foreign Policy
peace activist, professor U/Mass-Boston “The Crisis On The Korean
Peninsula”
Leftist Marching Band/Voice Opposition Musical Interlude
Ray Ajemian, Smedley Butler, VFP 100th Anniversary Of World War I-Lessons
Bob Masters–Smedley Butler, VFP, Vietnam Experiences
Vietnam Veteran, Doctor-101st Airborne
David Rothhauser, Smedley Butler VFP Jihadi Girl - poem read by Al Johnson
Massachusetts Peace & Justice Network: Kevin Martin; State Peace Bills
Sunday, October 27 @ 1:30 pm - 4:00 pm ~ Worcester Friends Meeting, 901 Pleasant St
The Massachusetts Peace and Justice Network‘s fall meeting will be held Sunday, October 27, from 1:30 – 4:00 pm, at the Worcester Friends Meeting, 901 Pleasant St. There are three agenda items.
1) Kevin Martin, national president of Peace Action, will speak on peace issues in the Presidential race, report on peace organizing in various parts of the country (he recently did a swing through Montana, Utah, and Idaho), and address issues such as the Pentagon budget, nukes, Yemen, Korea, Iran, Venezuela, Palestine-Israel.
On October 27, we’ll regroup in Worcester, recap the work already done, and make updated plans for the November crunch.
3) Each participating group is requested to speak and present their updates, proposals, and ideas.
The meeting is open to all people working for peace and justice in Massachusetts. Activists from neighboring New England states are also invited to join the discussion.
Thank you for joining in this important discussion!
Cole Harrison Executive Director Massachusetts Peace Action
Visit our website to learn more about joining the organization or donating to Massachusetts Peace Action!
We thank you for the financial support that makes this work possible.
Okay, Okay It’s The 350th Anniversary of Rembrandt’s (You Know The Dutch Painter With the Funny Last Name That Nobody Remembers Anyway) So Happy, Happy Birthday Brother
By Sam Lowell
By rights fellow writer here and budding amateur art critic (she insists I put that “amateur in) should be all over this short piece since she is much more involved in this aspect of human culture than I am theses days. Except Dutch painters (Flemish too or whatever they call the Netherlands painters at the art museum near you) leave her cold, do nothing for her despite their oversized place in the art world, at least in art books and generic museums.
Frankly I kind of shared her opinion about these dark color aficionados and their proper prosperous bourgeois subjects, their families, their towns and their inclinations toward showing family life from their home furnishings to their larder (those fish and fowl paintings still give me the willies). Two things changed my mind. One was that after some hiatus from museum-going I started up again and after having it up to my neck with every possible painting of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the death of Christ, the martyrdoms of the apostles and kindred and the whoredom of subjects like Mary Magdalene from the Middle Ages it was like a breath of fresh air to see even some hoary old bastard of bourgeois, his funky wife, and the general mayhem of urban Dutch society.
The other, strangely, was the theft many years ago of a famous Rembrandt self-portrait (among other stolen treasures taken during that heist) at the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum in Boston which made me wonder why they had taken that painting. An example as shown here -a masterpiece of composition, lighting, and warts and all approach. So Happy Birthday Rembrandt and I hope they get that painting back to fill up that wall at the Gardner again.
Visit our website to learn more about joining the organization or donating to Massachusetts Peace Action!