Sunday, July 19, 2009

***Once Again, A Blues Potpourri-John Lee Hooker And Furry Lewis

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Furry Lewis Doing "Kassie Jones" Wow!

DVD REVIEW

John Lee Hooker and Furry Lewis, John Lee Hooker, Furry Lewis, Yazoo Productions, 2002


I have recently reviewed a few of John Lee Hooker’s vast number of blues albums that lend credence to the title “Boogie Chillen” man. I also noted that unlike other old time electric blues artists such as Howlin’ Wolf and Lighting Hopkins that Hooker’s work, in general, leaves me cold. Although the small segment of his work presented here is good as he articulates his sense of what the blues mean, especially as it features one of his signature songs that I like, “Boom Boom”, I still am left with that same feeling. I finish by noting that this is a question of personal taste. Hooker is a blues legend, justifiably so. Case closed.

The other figure in this short Yazoo production is a different story. I have also reviewed Furry Lewis’s work elsewhere in this space and have praised his clean guitar picking style and vocals from his early career in the 1920’s when he was along with Blind Blake and Blind Lemon Jefferson one of the kings of the guitar pick. Furry does not fail here late in his career after reemerging during the folk revival of the 1960’s. His version of the famous “Kassie Jones” is worth the price of admission.

*Down With The Federal Defense Of Marriage Act (DOMA)- The Legal Fights Steps Up

Click ON Title To Link To National Public Radio Segment On The Legal Fight By The Massachusetts Attorney-General To Challenge The Federal Defense Of Marriage Act (DOMA). Needless to say, while we have a different strategic (and political) approach to this vital democratic question all avenues, state and local, legal and on the streets, to gain this right are supportable. Down With DOMA!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

*Down With The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" Anti-Gay And Lesbian Military Policy

Click ON Title To Link To National Public Radio's Segment On The Fight To Have The Obama Administration Overturn The Clinton-era Policy. This space is unequivocally opposed to every aspect of American militarism and the expanding American imperial presence in the world. That is a knock-down, drag-out fight to the finish. No question about that. Nevertheless, we uphold the democratic rights of those who are in the service. While in the military those who serve, whatever else, are entitled to the same benefits as anyone who serves. Down with this policy now.

Friday, July 17, 2009

*Carnival Of Socialism-Carnival Of Struggle

http://advant.blogspot.com/2009/07/carnival-of-socialism-40-is-here.html

Kudos to Renegade Eye.

*Once Again- The Slogan Is Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal Of U.S. Troops From Iraq- Get The Planes Revved Up Now

Click On Title To Link To National Public Radio Segment On The Status, The Real Status, Of Troop Withdrawal In Iraq. The Title Of This Entry Gives My Political Prescription. At This Late Date What More Can Be Said. Obama- Get 'Em Out.

**********************

Thursday, July 16, 2009

*A Musical Change Of Pace- Tin Pan Alley-Cole Porter

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Cole Porter's "Anything Goes".

Night And Day, Indeed

CD Review

Night And Day: The Cole Porter Songbook, various artists, Polydor, 1990


Billie Holiday. That is the name, voice and magic that I conjure up when I hear the name Cole Porter and his tasty and tasteful lyrics that evoke a simpler time, a time of my parents’ generation rather than my own. The generation that went through the last depression, the Great Depression of the 1930’s and then fought World War II successfully. Billie, thus, is something a thread that carries these tunes to my generation, the generation of the 1960’s. In fact, I believe the first time I recognized Cole Porter songs (although I probably hear then as background music on the radio in the old days) was on Billie’s “Night And Day” album of Porter tunes.

Here though, other voices, perhaps more representative of Porter’s work such as his Broadway show tunes, are featured. Like the slyly salacious “Love For Sale”. Or the agitated longing of “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”. How about the peppy “Anything Goes”. Or “It’s De-Lovely”. Or the very lyric-driven “Let’s Fall In Love”. And, of course, the dreamy title track “Night And Day”. So if you want to know what your parents (or grandparents) listened to while they were spoonin’ here is your stop.

"Love For Sale"

When the only sound on the empty street
is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
that belong to a lonesome cop
I open shop

The moon so long has been gazing down
on the warward ways of this wayward town
my smile becomes a smirk, I go to work

Love for sale
appetizing young love for sale
love thats fresh and still unspoiled
love thats only slightly soiled
love for sale

who will buy
who would like to sample my supply
who's prepared to pay the price
for a trip to paradise
love for sale

let the poets pipe of love
in their childish ways
I know every type of love
better far than they
if you want the thrill of love
I have been through the mill of love
old love
new love
every love but true love

love for sale
appetizing young love for sale
if you want to buy my wares follow me and clime the stairs
love for sale

*A Musical Change Of Pace- Tin Pan Alley-George Gershwin

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Billie Holiday Doing George Gershwin's "Summertime".

CD REVIEWS

The Great Songs Of George Gershwin, various artist, Columbia Legacy, 1998

George Gershwin's short but productive career has always been associated in my mind with the Broadway musical. Much more so than that another composer from that same period of the 1930's-1940's whom I recently reviewed in this space, Cole Porter. They both worked this milieu but I always think more of New York (or Paris) cabarets and cafés with Porter's work and the theater with Gershwin (and I will tag along his brother, Ira, here as well). Perhaps, it's because George Gershwin's name is most associated historically with the classic Broadway black musical "Porgy and Bess". In any case this little CD is filled with songs by many well-known singers who won their spurs in Broadway productions of his work, or wished they had.

So here we have Billie Holiday doing her trademark "Summertime" from that "Porgy and Bess" mentioned above. The virtuoso pianist Teddy Wilson doing "Embraceable You". The underrated Mildred Bailey on " They Can't Take That Away From You". The recently departed Mel Torme doing "Isn't It A Pity" and the still legendary Tony Bennett on "Fascinatin' Rhythm" (from Lady, Be Good). If your thing is Gershwin show tunes you have definitely come to the right address.

George Gershwin
Summertime lyrics


Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Oh, Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky

But until that morning
There's a'nothing can harm you
With your daddy and mammy standing by

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

*Free The San Francisco Eight- An Update From The Partisan Defense Committee

Click On Title To Link To Free The San Francisco Eight Web Site.

The following is passed on from the Partisan Defense Committee and needs no further comment from me except- Free The Eight!!

Drop the Charges Against the SF8 Now!

The following June 6 protest letter was sent by the Partisan Defense Committee—a class-struggle, non-sectarian legal and social defense organization associated with the Spartacist League—to California Attorney General Jerry Brown.

The Partisan Defense Committee demands an immediate end to the state’s vindictive prosecution of the San Francisco 8—Richard Brown, Francisco Torres, Ray Boudreaux, Henry “Hank” Jones, Harold Taylor, Herman Bell and Jalil Muntaqim (Anthony Bottom)—who were arrested in 2007 on frame-up charges of murder and conspiracy in relation to the 1971 death of San Francisco police officer John Young. In more than two years of court hearings, the prosecution has not produced a shred of evidence against these former Black Panthers. Now they face another three months of preliminary hearings, beginning on June 8, to determine if the case will go to trial. The relentless persecution of these men, all of them in their late 50s or older, is a continuation of the government’s decades-long vendetta against the Black Liberation Army and other former Panthers. We demand that all the charges against the SF8 be dropped now!

For close to 40 years, the police have tried to pin the killing of Young on these men. In 1973, two San Francisco police inspectors interrogated three Panther members including one of the current defendants, Harold Taylor, who had been arrested by the New Orleans cops. The three were tortured for several days—stripped naked, blindfolded and beaten, covered with blankets soaked in boiling water, shocked with electric cattle prods on their genitals and anus—until they “confessed.” In 1975, the charges were thrown out of court on the basis that their confessions had been coerced through torture. Thirty years later, the police and government prosecutors were still unsuccessful in obtaining indictments of any of these men despite convening California state and federal grand juries—first in 2003-2004 and later in May and August 2005. But this frame-up was revived again in 2007 when the SF8 were rounded up and arrested on orders from your office of California State Attorney General.

More than two years of court hearings have produced no evidence tying these men to Young’s killing. The “discovery” of a shotgun alleged to be the “missing murder weapon” was found not to match any weapons evidence in the case. Similarly, DNA swabs taken from the defendants in June 2006 did not match any evidence from the crime scene. The prosecution has refused to release fingerprint evidence that exonerates all of these men. The judge ruled against releasing FBI wiretap surveillance of Black Panther phone lines based on an FBI “taint team” affidavit asserting that there had been no wiretap surveillance of the SF8. One need only recall the case of another former Panther, Geronimo ji Jaga (Pratt) who spent 27 years behind bars for a murder that the FBI and California state officials knew he did not commit. The FBI claimed that it had “lost” wiretaps proving that Geronimo was at an Oakland Panther meeting, 400 miles away from L.A. where and when the murder was committed. Geronimo was released from prison in 1997 when an Orange County Superior Court Judge ruled that he had been denied a fair trial because the prosecution had withheld vital evidence from the defense.

The FBI’s murderous COINTELPRO program took the lives of 38 Panthers. Those they couldn’t kill were framed up and thrown in jail, including Mumia Abu-Jamal who remains on death row today on fabricated charges of killing a Philadelphia police officer in 1981. Mumia’s death sentence was secured by the prosecutor’s lying argument that his membership in the Panthers as a teenager “proved” that he had been planning to kill a cop. The prosecution of the SF8 is a continuation of the same COINTELPRO-style frame-up campaign. Together with other fighters against racist injustice, labor unions and federations like the S.F. Labor Council and others, the Partisan Defense Committee demands: Drop the charges now!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

The Night Belongs To......, Vietnam (Oops!) Afghanistan Update At A Glance

Click On Title To Link To "Boston Globe" Article By Farrah Stockman, Dated July 14, 2009, Which Might Help Explain The "Oops" Of The Title Of This Entry.

Commentary


Now that the Obama Administration has waded knee-deep into "The Big Poppy", Afghanistan, and made that war its own, including a recent signature 4000 Marine excursion deep into Taliban territory we are starting to see the outlines of the problem that confronted the Kennedy Administration and its lead advocate, the late War Secretary Robert S. McNamara. As the posted article indicates the American military presence can be overwhelming and appear to be invincible.....during the day. The night, however, belongs to the Taliban. Sound familiar? I will not, as I tried not to do with Iraq as well, overdraw the analogies between the wars, objectives, goals of the opponents and other factors in this benighted region and the Vietnam War that consumed a good portion of my youth. I do, nevertheless, make this point early on in this escalating conflict. When the deal goes down the American forces will be in Afghanistan propping up the increasingly corrupt and inept Karzai government for a minute. Or a couple of minutes. What then? The Taliban after almost eight years, seemingly, has the capacity to wait that time out. Since I made the point I also make the proposal and, in the end, what appears to be the rational solution. Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal Of All U.S./Allied Troops From Afghanistan! And while this will be of no avail now that the American Commander-in-Chief has dug in his heels-Obama,remember the fate of one Robert Strange McNamara.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

*If You Like Your T-Bone Rare This Is Your Stop- The Electric Blues Guitar Of T-Bone Walker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of T-Bone Walker Doing "Don't Throw Your Love On Me So Strong"

CD REVIEW

Back On The Scene Texas 1966: T-Bone Walker, T-Bone Walker, Castle Music, 2003


Okay, ask around. Here is the question. Who was (and maybe still is) the most influential electric blues guitarist of the post- World War II period. From casual listeners you may get a variety of answers, all of them somewhat worthy of consideration like Muddy Waters and B.B. King or from a later period , perhaps Eric Clapton. But down at the soul of the electric blues you will find one name that all the other choices will gladly agree (if they are honest) is the max daddy of the electric blues guitar, T-Bone Walker. He owns the thing. It is part of his physical person and combined with that plaintive sweet but catlike menacing voice presents a strong case for his place in the blues pantheon. In short, if you hear someone today playing electric blues guitar that sound like they are gently running the piano keyboard and with a sense that the player has been through some kind of hell that person was influenced by Walker. No doubt.

That said, this is not his strongest work but is a better than average primer considering that it represents the latter part of T-Bone’s career. Still just listening to the way he introduces a sing and then goes through his paces will set the mood for you. Try the ironic “Good Boy” for starters. And the title track “Back On The Scene”. Close out with “ Afraid To Close My Eyes” and you will start looking for earlier T-Bone CDs right away.

alimony blues lyrics

It's a cold-blooded world when a man has to pawn his shoes
It's a cold-blooded world when a man has to pawn his shoes
That's the fix I'm in today, I swear I've been abused

Yes, the woman is a devil, she will trick you if she can
Yes, the woman is a devil, she will trick you if she can
She will tell you that she love you, an work out some other plan


"Call It Stormy Monday"

They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad
They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad
Wednesday's worse, and Thursday's also sad

Yes the eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play
Eagle flies on Friday, and Saturday I go out to play
Sunday I go to church, then I kneel down and pray

Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy on me
Lord have mercy, my heart's in misery
Crazy about my baby, yes, send her back to me


Got those alimony blues an I sure got to pay some dues
Got those alimony blues an I sure got to pay some dues
And if I run short of cash, it's the road camp, I've got to choose


"Midnight Blues"

Well, the clock is strikin' twelve, somebody's got to go
Well, the clock is strikin' twelve, somebody's got to go
Gee, but I'm going to miss ya baby, this is one thing I'm sure you know

When it's twelve o'clock in Memphis, it's one o'clock in San Antone
When it's twelve o'clock in Memphis, it's one o'clock in San Antone
When it's midnight in California, I'll be so all alone

Midnight is an awful hour, why does it come so soon?
Midnight is a awful hour, why does it come so soon?
It never bring me happ'ness, it always leave me filled with gloom

Don't ever gamble buddy, unless you're sure that you can't lose
Don't ever gamble buddy, unless you're sure that you can't lose
You better take my advise, unless you want this midnight blues

"Put it away!"


"T-Bone Shuffle"

Let your hair down baby,
Let's have a natural ball.
Let your hair down baby,
Let's have a natural ball.
Cause when you're not happy,
It ain't no fun at all.

You can't take it with you,
That's one thing for sure.
You can't take it with you baby,
That's one thing for sure.
There's nothing wrong with ya baby,
That a good T-Bone shuffle can't cure.

Have fun while ya can,
Fate's an aweful thing.
Have fun while ya can,
Fate's an aweful thing.
You can't tell what might happen,
That's why I love to sing.

*A Different Guitar –The Jazz Guitar Of Wes Montgomery

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Wes Montgomery performing "'Round Midnight".

DVD Review

Wes Montgomery: Live in 65, Wes Montgomery and various sidemen, Reelin’ In The Years Productions. 2007


As I have mentioned on more than one other occasion in reviewing various musical genres, what goes around comes around. On the basis of doing a review of the legendary and ground-breaking Texas blues guitarist T-Bone Walker a friend sent me a this DVD of jazz guitarist Wes Montgomery. Well, although jazz is not my main area of interest (except where it intersects, as it does in many places, the blues) of course I knew the name, if not the specific work, of Wes Montgomery.

What we have here is very lovingly done tribute to Brother Montgomery, as part of a jazz icon series, by showcasing a set of three European performances in 1965 done during the prime of his jazz powers. Look, I know folk guitar and many of its virtuoso players backward and forward. I know rock guitar and many of its virtuoso performers as well. I know blues guitar and its virtuoso performers, like the above-mentioned T-Bone Walker, backward, forward and side way. I cannot same the same for the jazz guitar. I can say, though, off viewing this series of performances that Mr. Wes Montgomery fits very comfortably in that virtuoso category.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

As The Burns-Novick Vietnam War Documentary Airs- No Black-Bordered Obituary For Defense Secretary Robert McNamara

As The Burns-Novick Vietnam War Documentary Airs- No Black-Bordered Obituary For Defense Secretary Robert McNamara 




A Link To "New York Times" July 6, 2009 Obituary For Robert McNamara. The Point Of This Link Is To Teach The Next Generation To Know The "Rational" Kind Of Monster We Have To Boot Out In Order To Get The Just World WE Desperately Need.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/07/us/07mcnamara.html?_r=2&hp=&pagewanted=all


Commentary (July 6, 2009)


The recent death, at 93, of Kennedy/Johnson Vietnam War-era War Secretary Robert McNamara has been met with a number of tributes in the bourgeois media about his role as architect of various Cold War military policies in defense of the American Imperial state. That is to be expected for those sources. There is, apparently, an unwritten rule that one does not speak ill of the dead in those circles. Including legitimate war criminals. And in the normal course of events that might be an appropriate response. But one Robert Strange McNamara is of a different stripe.

After a life time of public service to the bourgeois state Mr. McNamara, seemingly, late in life started to worry about his eternal soul and the harm that he had done to it by trying, as an example, to wipe the country of Vietnam, North and South at the time, off the face of the earth with his incessant strategic bombing policy. After exhibiting some qualms late in the Johnson presidency (and around the time of TET 1968) he was booted upstairs to become President of the American-dominated World Bank. Nice soft landing for a war criminal, right?

And who called him a war criminal? Well, of course, this writer did (and does). And so did many of the anti-war activists of the 1960’s. Those calls are to be expected (and might be considered to constitute a minimum response to his egregious policies). But, surprise, surprise late in life, after serious reflection, McNamara implied, haltingly to be sure, in his memoirs (a review of which is re-posted below) that that might have been the case. However, unlike some of his compadres at the Nuremberg War Crimes tribunals and other such venues, Mr. McNamara died quietly in his bed.

Not so fortunate were the millions of Vietnamese peasants and workers who bore the onslaught of the maximum fire-power the American military could lay down. No, there will be no final justice in this sorry old world until a future American Workers Republic pays real justice (and serious cash) to the people of Vietnam. As for Robert Strange McNamara, if the worst that happened to him was a “bad conscience” he got off easy.

******

Reposted below is a review of Robert Strange McNamara’s memoirs and of a documentary “Fog Of War” used by him in order to help “the second draft” of history of his legacy.

Reposted From April 30, 2009 Entry

The Fog Of War, Part II- War Secretary Robert McNamara’s View Of His Handiwork in Vietnam

Book Review

In Retrospect: The Tragedy And Lessons Of Vietnam, Robert Strange McNamara with Brain VanDeMark, Random House, 1995


Anyone who had caught the Friday March 27, 2009 headlines is aware that the Democratic Party-run Obama government has called for some 4,000 additional troops for Afghanistan and what they, euphemistically, call civilian support teams in order to bolster the sagging regime of “Mayor of Kabul” Karzai. Those numbers are in addition to the 17,000 extras already committed by the Obama regime in February. Does the word escalation seem appropriate here?

One of the problems of having gone through the Vietnam experience in my youth (including periods of lukewarm support for American policy under John F. Kennedy, a hands-off attitude in the early Lyndon B. Johnson years and then full-bore opposition under the late Johnson, Richard M. Nixon and Gerald Ford regimes) is a tendency to view today’s American imperial policy in the same by-the-numbers approach as I took as a result of observing the Vietnam War as it unfolded. There are differences, some of them hugely so, between Vietnam and Afghanistan. Just as, I have previously noted in this space, there are differences between Vietnam and the recently “completed” Iraq War. (Hey, I’m just going by what the media tells me is going on. They wouldn’t lead us astray, would they?)

But, I keep getting this eerie feeling in the back of my neck every time I hear, or see, anything concerning Afghanistan coming out of this new Obama administration. They appear clueless, yet are determined to forge ahead with this policy that can only lead to the same kind of quagmire than Vietnam and Iraq turned into. That is where the analogies to Vietnam do connect up. In this regard, I have recently been re-reading Kennedy/Johnson War Secretary Robert Strange (that’s his middle name, folk, I didn’t make it up and didn’t need to) McNamara’s memoirs, written in 1995, of his central role in the development of Vietnam policy, “In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam”.

Obviously McNamara has put his own ‘spin’ on his personal role then in order to absolve himself (a little) before history. That is to be expected. What comes through crystal clear, however, because in the final analysis McNamara still doesn’t get it, is that when you’re the number one imperial power all the decisions you make are suppose to fall into place for your benefit because you represent the “good guys”. Regardless of what you do, or do not, know about the internal workings of the situation at hand. The Kennedy/Johnson administrations were almost totally ignorant of the internal working of Vietnamese society. That is why I have that eerie, very eerie, feeling about this Obama war policy.

In the normal course of events former high level bureaucrats in American presidential administrations usually save their attempts at self-justification for high ticket published memoirs or congenial `softball' speaking tours and conferences. In short, they prefer to preach to the choir at retail prices. Apparently, Cold Warrior extraordinaire Secretary of War Robert Strange McNamara felt that such efforts were very necessary in his case and hence he had to go to the prints in order to whitewash his role in the history of his times. Despite an apparent agreement with his “ghost writer” not to cover certain subjects and be allowed to present his story his way it is always good to catch a view of how the other side operates. It ain't pretty.

After a lifetime of relative public silence, at the age of 8o something, McNamara decided to give his take on events in which he was a central figure like dealing with the fact of American imperial military superiority in the post- World War II period, dealing with the Russians and the fight for American nuclear superiority during the Cold War, the ill-conceived Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, the later Cuban Missile crisis and above all his role in the escalation of the wars in Southeast Asia, primarily Vietnam.

Very little here focuses on his time at the World Bank, a not unimportant omission that would highlight my point that he might have changed his clothing in the course of his career but not his mindset. While those of us interested in learning the lessons of history have long understood that to know the political enemy is the beginning of wisdom one will not find much here that was not infinitely better covered by the late journalist David Halberstam in his classic “The Best and The Brightest”.

McNamara has chosen to present his story in the form of parables, or rather, little vignettes about the “lessons” to be drawn from experiences (eleven in all by the way). Thus, we are asked to sit, embarrassingly, through McNamara's freshman course in revisionist history as he attempts to take himself from the cold-hearted Cold Warrior and legitimate “war criminal” to the teddy-bearish old man who has learned something in his life- after a lifetime of treachery. Yet, like that freshman course there are things to be learned despite the professor and more to learn, if only by reading between the lines, than he or she wanted to express.

McNamara presents his take by dividing the Vietnam War buildup, at least at the executive level, into periods; the early almost passive Kennedy days; the post Kennedy assassination period when Lyndon Johnson was trying to be all things to all men; the decisive post-1964 election period; and, various periods of fruitless and clueless escalation. It is this process that is, almost unwittingly, the most important to take from this world. Although McNamara, at the time of writing was an older and wiser man, when he had power he went along with ever step of the “hawks”, civilian and military. He led no internal opposition, and certainly not public one. This is the classic “good old boys” network where one falls on one’s sword when the policy turns wrong. And he is still scratching his head over why masses of anti-war protesters chanted “war criminal” when they confronted him with his deeds. And then listen to the latest screeds by current War Secretary Gates concerning Afghanistan. It will sound very familiar.

In the end, if one took his story at face value, one could only conclude that he was just trying to serve his bosses the best way he could and if things went wrong it was their fault. Nothing new there, though. Henry Kissinger has turned that little devise into an art form. Teary-eyed at the end McNamara might be as he acknowledges his role in the mass killings of his time, but beware of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yet, you need to read this book if you want to understand how these guys (and gals) defended their state then, and now.

DVD REVIEW

The Fog of War, starring former Secretary of War Robert Strange McNamara, 2003


In the normal course of events former high level bureaucrats in American presidential administrations usually save their attempts at self-justification for high ticket published memoirs or congenial `softball' speaking tours and conferences. In short, they prefer to preach to the choir at retail prices. Apparently, former Kennedy and Johnson Administration Cold Warrior extraordinaire Secretary of War Robert Strange McNamara felt that such efforts were not enough and hence he had to go before the cameras in order to whitewash his role in the history of his times. Despite an apparent agreement with his interviewer not to cover certain subjects and be allowed to present his story his way it is always good to catch a view of how the other side operates. It ain't pretty.

After a lifetime of relative public silence, at the age of 85, McNamara decided to give his take on events in which he was a central figure like dealing with the fact of American imperial military superiority in the post- World War II period, dealing with the Russians and the fight for American nuclear superiority during the Cold War, the ill-conceived Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, the later Cuban Missile crisis and above all his role in the escalation of the wars in Southeast Asia, primarily Vietnam.

Very little here focuses on his time at the World Bank, a not unimportant omission that would highlight my point that he might have changed his clothing in the course of his career but not his mindset. While those of us interested in learning the lessons of history have long understood that to know the political enemy is the beginning of wisdom one will not find much here that was not infinitely better covered by the late journalist David Halberstam in his classic The Best and The Brightest.

McNamara has chosen to present his story in the form of parables, or rather, little vignettes about the `lessons' to be drawn from experiences. Thus, we are asked to sit, embarrassingly, through McNamara's Freshman course in revisionist history as he attempts to take himself from the cold-hearted Cold Warrior and legitimate `war criminal' to the teddy-bearish old man who has learned something in his life- after a lifetime of treachery.

In the end, if one took his story at face value, one could only conclude that he was just trying to serve his bosses the best way he could and if things went wrong it was their fault. Nothing new there, though. Henry Kissinger has turned that little devise into an art form. Teary-eyed at the end McNamara might be as he acknowledges his role in the mass killings of his time, but beware of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yet, you need to watch this film if you want to understand how these guys (and gals) defend their state.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

*Oppose The Military Coup In Honduras, Ahora- A Guest Commentary

Click On Title To Link To Guest Commentary Concerning The Struggle Against The Recent Military Takeover In Honduras.

Markin Commentary

Some of the points I agree, some not. The situation there, especially from this distance, seems somewhat murky. Especially suspect are the leftist populist credentials of the deposed Zelaya and his actions to gain reelection (or at least run for reelection). But know this, we leftists (and here I mean socialists, anarchists and both branches of the communist movement (including the Communist International before its Stalinist degeneration), Stalinist And Trotskyist, have been sometimes too slow to oppose military takeovers of democratically-elected governments. And , on occasion too quick to support certain so-called leftist military one like in China and Bulgaria in the 1920's. Yes, we want our day but that does not mean that today we are indifferent to the norms of bourgeois democracy. In Honduras we oppose the military junta, if for no other reason than we can work better for our socialist goals and easier under bourgeois norms than the norms of military rule. I will have more to say on this later. For now though the immediate thread of our work (and slogans) should be to fight for the return of the democratic norms linked to the struggle for a workers republic-ahora.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

*A Salute To Mountain Music- "O Brother, Where Art Thou?"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Persall Sisters Doing "Angel Band". Ya, I know they were not on this CD reviewed below but I am doing a separate review of Ralph Stanley (and his brother) elsewhere and will put their version of "Angel Band" there. The sisters, in any case, do a great job on this.

CD REVIEW

O Brother, Where Art Thou?: Music from the movie “O Brother, Where Art Thou?, various artists, UMG Recordings, 2000.

Sometimes a revival of a musical form, like the "talking blues", that highlighted the urban folk revival of the early 1960's is driven by a social need. In that case it was to provide a format for the "glad tidings" that a new political and social movement was a-bornin'. In the case of the revival several years ago of what is called "mountain music" it was the films "The Song Catcher" and, more importantly, the very popular movie starring George Clooney, " O Brother, Where Art Thou?". The CD under review is a compilation of music from that movie, a not unnatural tie-in in the modern entertainment business. The movie deserves a separate review, however, this CD can stand on its own as a very nice cross section of "mountain music", some familiar most not so.

Without straining credulity "mountain music" is the music of the simple folk of Appalachia, those who worked hard in the coal mines, on the hard scrabble farms and in the isolated mills of the region. This was their Saturday night entertainment and with the advent of radio was a unifying cultural experience. The songs "speak" of hard and lonely lives, the beauty of the then pristine countryside, the usual vagaries of love and lost and the mysterious ways of a very personal, if arbitrary, god. Throw in a few upbeat tunes reflecting the love of "corn" liquor, women and the sometimes funny side of coping with life's trials and tribulations and you have the mountain version of the folk experience. Sound familiar? Sure it does, except, it is done with simple guitar, a blazing fiddle and, hopefully, a full-bodied mandolin.

Here you have all the above types of songs mentioned above in one spot. The cadence of the work in hard prison life gets a nod in "Po Lazarus". The hobo's national anthem (Great Depression era version) "Big Rock Candy Mountain" is also here. The vagaries of love get spelled out in "Didn't Leave Nobody But The Baby". For uplift try the one everyone knows- "You Are My Sunshine". Norman Blake, worthy of a separate review of his own as a master of mountain music, provides a very rich instrumental "A Man Of Constant Sorrow". Finally, no recent compilation of mountain music is complete without Ralph Stanley's eerie "O Death" and "Angel Band". If you need a primer for learning about mountain music here you are.

Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow Lyrics

I am the man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I bid farewell to ol' Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.

The place where he was born and raised

For six long years I've been in trouble,
no pleasure here on earth I've found
For in this world, I'm bound to ramble,
I have no friends to help me now.

He has no friends to help him now

It's fair thee well, my old true lover,
I never expect to see you again.
For I'm bound to ride that Northern Railroad,
perhaps I'll die upon this train

Perhaps he'll die upon this train

You can bury me in some deep valley,
For many years where I may lay.
And you may learn to love another
while I am sleeping in my grave.

While he is sleeping in his grave

Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you never will see no more
But there is one promise that is given,
I'll meet you on Gods golden shore

He'll meet you on God's golden shore

Big Rock Candy Mountain

One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains


Ralph Stanley - O Death Lyrics

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
Well what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
Well I am death, none can excel
I'll open the door to heaven or hell
Whoa, death someone would pray
Could you wait to call me another day
The children prayed, the preacher preached
Time and mercy is out of your reach
I'll fix your feet til you cant walk
I'll lock your jaw til you cant talk
I'll close your eyes so you can't see
This very air, come and go with me
I'm death I come to take the soul
Leave the body and leave it cold
To draw up the flesh off of the frame
Dirt and worm both have a claim

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
My mother came to my bed
Placed a cold towel upon my head
My head is warm my feet are cold
Death is a-movin upon my soul
Oh, death how you're treatin' me
You've close my eyes so I can't see
Well you're hurtin' my body
You make me cold
You run my life right outta my soul
Oh death please consider my age
Please don't take me at this stage
My wealth is all at your command
If you will move your icy hand
Oh the young, the rich or poor
Hunger like me you know
No wealth, no ruin, no silver no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul

O, death
O, death
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year

The Stanley Brothers - Angel Band Lyrics

The latest sun is sinking fast, my race is nearly run
My strongest trials now are past, my triumph is begun
O come Angel Band, come & around me stand
O bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home
O bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home
I know I'm near the holy ranks of friends & kindred dear
I've brushed the dew on Jordan's banks, the crossing must be near
I've almost gained my Heavenly home, my spirit loudly sings
The Holy ones, behold they come, I hear the noise of wings
O bear my longing heart to Him who bled & died for me
Whose blood now cleanses from all sin & gives me victory

Deep In The Hills And Hollows Of Mountain Country- “The “Appalachians” In Story And Song

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Iris Dement performing "Pretty Saro" in the film "Song Catcher".

DVD Review

The Appalachians, 3 DVD set, various commentators and mountain musicians, PBS Productions, 2005


I have spend no little time over the past several months putting roots music, the historical roots of mountain music in the hills and hollows of the Appalachians, especially Kentucky and my own personal connection with the place as a son of a coal mining son of the region together. This film documentary takes two of those strands, roots music and the history of the region and tries to explain the values behind the music and behind the pioneer spirit that drove some of our forbears to those lonely hill and hollows to eke out a an existence and create a cultural gradient that is not always understandable to those of us not immersed in that milieu. Except those virtues of hard work, hard religion, hard times and hard liquor are not all that far from the mainstream experiences, at least of earlier generations. In a sense this film is a tribute to a vanishing breed, a breed the mined the coal in the eastern mines, and farmed those hard rock acres. I like to think that some of those virtues and, of course, the music would not die.

Along the way this documentary traces the roots of the original Northern European settlers as they fled, or were pushed , from the East Coast and sought the new virgin lands of the then ‘west’ in the 17th and 18th centuries. Their uneasy relationship, finally untenable, with the various indigenous Native American tribes in the 19th century. The film also points out the gathering storm over the slavery issue that would literally become the “brothers’ war” in much of the region in the mid-19th century civil war. In the post- Civil War period the outlines of a distinctive Appalachian cultural gradient became recognizable through an exploitation of the natural resources of the area generated by the needs of the emerging industrial age, especially mining of the abundant coal fields. The struggle between labor and capital takes center place as the driving force from then until the near present. This includes the titanic struggles for mine workers union recognition, the demise of labor intensive coal mining and the rise of mass high tech mining that has ravished the land.

But, mainly this film is an exposition on the music. Without straining credulity "mountain music" is the music of the simple folk of Appalachia, those who worked hard in the coal mines, on the hard scrabble farms and in the isolated mills of the region. This was their Saturday night entertainment and with the advent of radio was a unifying cultural experience. The songs "speak" of hard and lonely lives, the beauty of the then pristine countryside, the usual vagaries of love and lost and the mysterious ways of a very personal, if arbitrary, god. Throw in a few upbeat tunes reflecting the love of "corn" liquor, women and the sometimes funny side of coping with life's trials and tribulations and you have the mountain version of the folk experience. Sound familiar? Sure it does, except, it is done with simple guitar, a blazing fiddle and, hopefully, a full-bodied mandolin.

John Prine, Paradise Lyrics

When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there's a backwards old town that's often remembered
So many times that my memories are worn.

Chorus:
And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I'm sorry my son, but you're too late in asking
Mister Peabody's coal train has hauled it away

Well, sometimes we'd travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Adrie Hill
Where the air smelled like snakes and we'd shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill.

Repeat Chorus:

Then the coal company came with the world's largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man.

Repeat Chorus:

When I die let my ashes float down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester dam
I'll be halfway to Heaven with Paradise waitin'
Just five miles away from wherever I am.

Repeat Chorus:


Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow Lyrics

I am the man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I bid farewell to ol' Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.

The place where he was born and raised

For six long years I've been in trouble,
no pleasure here on earth I've found
For in this world, I'm bound to ramble,
I have no friends to help me now.

He has no friends to help him now

It's fair thee well, my old true lover,
I never expect to see you again.
For I'm bound to ride that Northern Railroad,
perhaps I'll die upon this train

Perhaps he'll die upon this train

You can bury me in some deep valley,
For many years where I may lay.
And you may learn to love another
while I am sleeping in my grave.

While he is sleeping in his grave

Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you never will see no more
But there is one promise that is given,
I'll meet you on Gods golden shore

He'll meet you on God's golden shore

Big Rock Candy Mountain

One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains


Ralph Stanley - O Death Lyrics

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
Well what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
Well I am death, none can excel
I'll open the door to heaven or hell
Whoa, death someone would pray
Could you wait to call me another day
The children prayed, the preacher preached
Time and mercy is out of your reach
I'll fix your feet til you cant walk
I'll lock your jaw til you cant talk
I'll close your eyes so you can't see
This very air, come and go with me
I'm death I come to take the soul
Leave the body and leave it cold
To draw up the flesh off of the frame
Dirt and worm both have a claim

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
My mother came to my bed
Placed a cold towel upon my head
My head is warm my feet are cold
Death is a-movin upon my soul
Oh, death how you're treatin' me
You've close my eyes so I can't see
Well you're hurtin' my body
You make me cold
You run my life right outta my soul
Oh death please consider my age
Please don't take me at this stage
My wealth is all at your command
If you will move your icy hand
Oh the young, the rich or poor
Hunger like me you know
No wealth, no ruin, no silver no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul

O, death
O, death
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year
Wont you spare me over til another year

The Stanley Brothers - Angel Band Lyrics

The latest sun is sinking fast, my race is nearly run
My strongest trials now are past, my triumph is begun
O come Angel Band, come & around me stand
O bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home
O bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home
I know I'm near the holy ranks of friends & kindred dear
I've brushed the dew on Jordan's banks, the crossing must be near
I've almost gained my Heavenly home, my spirit loudly sings
The Holy ones, behold they come, I hear the noise of wings
O bear my longing heart to Him who bled & died for me
Whose blood now cleanses from all sin & gives me victory

Sunday, July 05, 2009

From The Archives (2009)-Capitalist America- Give Youth Work, Or Move On Over!

Click On To Title To Link To The Leon Trotsky Archives For 1938 Under The Transitional Program Concerning A Sliding Scale Of Wages (Popularly Known As "30 For 40")As An Example Of The Way To Address The Problem Di cussed Below.

Commentary

Make no mistake this site, as a general proposition, is fiercely and relentlessly dedicated to the propaganda struggle for a socialist future. But sometimes we have to agitate for some immediate and pressing needs. In this case the need to make sure the youth, and particularly minority youth, has meaningful work. In a society that goes on something of a principle of ‘last hired and first fired ‘(except when it is cheaper to keep the new labor) in its labor practices this latest capitalist recession is hitting the youth disproportionately.

That said, I recently heard an interesting, if disturbing, program on National Public Radio’s “Talk Of The Town” where the subject was PBS “Dateline’s” upcoming program, hosted by Judy Woodruff, concerning the various ways today’s 20-somethings are coping with (or not coping with) this, for them, first serious economic downturn. I heard plenty of anecdotal evidence for why this capitalist really has outlived its usefulness and must be replaced. But that is a subject for another day and one can go elsewhere in this space for various commentaries on the general socialist program. What I want to do is make a few points on the struggle of today’s youth for jobs.

Hey, when those of us who are not 20-something were young and carefree we all, or most of us anyhow, had our share of makeshift jobs in order to survive or to keep us off the streets. Some of us, including this writer, almost made a religion out of keeping just this side of “skid row”. Being footloose and fancy free is a youthful rite of passage, after all (and probably would be more so under a socialist regime). That, however, is not what the callers to this talk show were addressing as they related their stories. What they had to say about their survival skills reflects very well one their individual abilities to adjust to a world that they certainly have not made. They are making career changes, taking odd-ball jobs, retuning home to live in order to cut down on expenses and even that old chestnut, going back to school to ‘reinvent’ themselves.

Okay, that is the good part. But here is where I want to reflect on what the irrationality of the capitalist system has begot. From what I heard there is an incredible amount of social value stored up in today’s youth. Moreover, an incredible amount of social capital has been used to produce these very high priced future contributors to society. No rational society could, or would let this go to waste in the way that it seems to be doing in the current crisis. Wouldn’t a slogan like “30 For 40”, the old radical labor movement idea of redistributing the available work among those , employed and unemployed, hat need it with no loss in pay be just about right at this time. As for the future, to all those young callers-in I will tell you right now that a socialist society would certainly know how to use your skills- “to the max”. Join us in that fight.

****

From The Transistional Program

Sliding Scale of Wages
and Sliding Scale of Hours


Under the conditions of disintegrating capitalism, the masses continue to live the meagerized life of the oppressed, threatened now more than at any other time with the danger of being cast into the pit of pauperism. They must defend their mouthful of bread, if they cannot increase or better it. There is neither the need nor the opportunity to enumerate here those separate, partial demands which time and again arise on the basis of concrete circumstances – national, local, trade union. But two basic economic afflictions, in which is summarized the increasing absurdity of the capitalist system, that is, unemployment and high prices, demand generalized slogans and methods of struggle.

The Fourth International declares uncompromising war on the politics of the capitalists which, to a considerable degree, like the politics of their agents, the reformists, aims to place the whole burden of militarism, the crisis, the disorganization of the monetary system and all other scourges stemming from capitalism’s death agony upon the backs of the toilers. The Fourth International demands employment and decent living conditions for all.

Neither monetary inflation nor stabilization can serve as slogans for the proletariat because these are but two ends of the same stick. Against a bounding rise in prices, which with the approach of war will assume an ever more unbridled character, one can fight only under the slogan of a sliding scale of wages. This means that collective agreements should assure an automatic rise in wages in relation to the increase in price of consumer goods.

Under the menace of its own disintegration, the proletariat cannot permit the transformation of an increasing section of the workers into chronically unemployed paupers, living off the slops of a crumbling society. The right to employment is the only serious right left to the worker in a society based upon exploitation. This right today is left to the worker in a society based upon exploitation. This right today is being shorn from him at every step. Against unemployment, “structural” as well as “conjunctural,” the time is ripe to advance along with the slogan of public works, the slogan of a sliding scale of working hours. Trade unions and other mass organizations should bind the workers and the unemployed together in the solidarity of mutual responsibility. On this basis all the work on hand would then be divided among all existing workers in accordance with how the extent of the working week is defined. The average wage of every worker remains the same as it was under the old working week. Wages, under a strictly guaranteed minimum, would follow the movement of prices. It is impossible to accept any other program for the present catastrophic period.

Property owners and their lawyers will prove the “unrealizability” of these demands. Smaller, especially ruined capitalists, in addition will refer to their account ledgers. The workers categorically denounce such conclusions and references. The question is not one of a “normal” collision between opposing material interests. The question is one of guarding the proletariat from decay, demoralization and ruin. The question is one of life or death of the only creative and progressive class, and by that token of the future of mankind. If capitalism is incapable of satisfying the demands inevitably arising from the calamities generated by itself, then let it perish. “Realizability” or “unrealizability” is in the given instance a question of the relationship of forces, which can be decided only by the struggle. By means of this struggle, no matter what immediate practical successes may be, the workers will best come to understand the necessity of liquidating capitalist slavery.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

*A Portrait Of An American Revolutionary-Thomas Jefferson of Virginia

Click On Title To Link To PBS's Online Link To Ken Burns'"Thomas Jefferson".

DVD Review

In The Time Of The Promise Of The American Republic

Thomas Jefferson, a film documentary by Ken Burns, Florentine Films, 1997


Parts of this review have been used previously in reviewing John Dos Passos’ “The Shackles of Power”. Many of the points addressed in that review on Jefferson and the nature of the Jeffersonian period in American history apply here as well.

I have spent gallons of ink around this July 4th celebratory time every year, and I believe justifiably so given the objectives of this site, drawing some strong distinction between various periods of the common American historical experience. I have extolled the early days of the American Republic when it held out, to paraphrase what Lincoln noted later in the crucible of the Civil War, another high point in the American experience, the promise that the “America democratic experiment represented the last, best hope of mankind”. And Lincoln was right then. In contrast I have heaped scorn, and that is an appropriate word here, on later periods lambasting the turn to the American imperium that we still suffer under. Of course, none of this periodization is all cut and dried but today; at least, I want to go back to that earlier, more hopeful period of the birth of the American Republic.

Normally, when one thinks of the early period of the American Republic one’s thoughts turn to the struggle for independence from impetuous British imperialism, the subsequent fights to create some workable form of government and the consolidation of the American state, against all comers, as a factor in world history. The names Washington, Adams, Morris, Franklin and the like come easily to mind in that narrative. Moreover, lately, the period had been worked over almost to exhaustion as if resurrecting that heroic period will shed some reflected light on today’s ugly political scene.

Today, though, in reviewing master documentary filmmaker Ken Burns’ “Thomas Jefferson” I want to look at, as I did in reviewing John Dos Passos’ older historical narrative (1966), “The Shackles Of Power”, the period just after that consolidation when the contours of the disputes that would form the two major political philosophies that govern American politics got pushed center stage. This is the time of Jefferson and his acolytes, Madison and Monroe, and their partisans in the various state Democratic Republican organizations centered on the plebeian-supported local newspapers. And it is also the time when the original Hamiltonian federalist impulse that governed the firs period of American life petered out in that form with the passing away of its old leadership, its cranky secessionist politics and its elitist conceits. That is a good enough time span for our work, basically the period from Jefferson’s hotly contested election in 2000 (oops, 1800) through the period formerly known as “the era of good feelings” (quaint, right?) to the period, today, now, tentatively, in the academy known as the period of the rise of “Jacksonian democracy”. This is the heart of the Burns documentary and the part that makes for the most interesting aspect of the film.


Those last points in the paragraph above are germane to Burns' view of the Jeffersonian story. This is, after, all the age where the Alexander Hamilton-led Federalist pro-mercantile strong central government policies and the Jefferson-led Democratic Republican weak central government, strong state governments pro-“yeoman farmer” policy fights came front and center. Those trends, in various guises, have continued to this day in the hurly-burly of every day democratic politics. Needless to say, this little capsule comment of mine concerning the outlines of the disputes is merely that, an outline. As with any documentary, Burns is confronted with that same problem of merely outlining the various political struggles. Take this documentary as a primer on the period. Not as the final word

One of Burns' virtues as a literary-oriented film man is that he, unlike many professional historians some of whom like Gary Wills populate this production, brings a snappy literary style to his narrative. Thus, he spends less time on the arcania of the internal politics of the Federalist and Democratic Republicans and more on outcomes. Thus, although Thomas Jefferson is the central character of this work, plenty of space is given to other secondary characters central to this narrative like the on/off relationship between Jefferson and his predecessor John Adams, the rise of James Madison and James Monroe in the early 1800’s as adherents of the Jeffersonian tradition. And so on.

Of course no history of this period is complete without a nod to Jefferson’s inspired acquisition of the Louisiana Purchase as an important, if not defining, aspect of creating what would be come the American nation-state, the development of an internal transportation system, the rise of public education fostered by the post-presidential Jefferson and the increasing politicization of the governing process through increased literacy, broadening the suffrage franchise and the formation, in embryo, of the party system.

As I mentioned in the Dos Passos review, obviously a history documentary , well researched or not, that dates from an earlier time (even, if as here, only ten years) will neither reflect the evolving tendencies in historical studies, such as they are, or the incredible increase in material sources to be drawn from that have become available since then. For example, the now “hot” issue of Jefferson’s relationship with his slave mistress, Sally Hemings, and their children is a case in point. The “talking heads”, including Professor John Hope Franklin, that always drive documentaries , reflecting the received wisdom of the time pass on a rather agnostic view of their relationship, if not outright acceptance of the ‘evidence’ for denial of the relationship. Also far too little critical mention is given to the importance of slave ownership to Jefferson’s personal financial fate, whatever his philosophical views on the matter. Jefferson, in effect, is given pass on this issue. If a greater presidential figure like Abraham Lincoln can “take heat” for his racial views from today’s historians then the slave-owner Jefferson does not deserve that pass. Notwithstanding those problems this is a good Jefferson primer. Watch it.

*In The Time Of The Promise Of The American Republic- John Dos Passos’ Jeffersonian America

Click On Title To Link To Wikipedia's Entry For John Dos Passos.

Book Review

The Shackles Of Power: Three Jeffersonian Decades, John Dos Passos, Doubleday&Company, New York, 1966.


I have spent gallons of ink around this July 4th celebratory time every year, and I believe justifiably so given the objectives of this site, drawing some strong distinction between various periods of the common American historical experience. I have extolled the early days of the American Republic when it held out, to paraphrase what Lincoln noted later in the crucible of the Civil War, another high point in the American experience, the promise that the “America democratic experiment represented the last, best hope of mankind”. And Lincoln was right then. In contrast I have heaped scorn, and that is an appropriate word here, on later periods lambasting the turn to the American imperium that we still suffer under. Of course, none of this periodization is all cut and dried but today; at least, I want to go back to that earlier, more hopeful period of the birth of the American Republic.

Normally, when one thinks of the early period of the American Republic one’s thoughts turn to the struggle for independence from impetuous British imperialism, the subsequent fights to create some workable form of government and the consolidation of the American state, against all comers, as a factor in world history. The names Washington, Adams, Morris, Franklin and the like come easily to mind in that narrative. Moreover, lately, that period had been worked over almost to exhaustion as if resurrecting that heroic period will shed some reflected light on today’s ugly political scene.

Today, though, in reviewing John Dos Passos’ older historical narrative (1966), “The Shackles Of Power”, I want to look at the period just after that consolidation when the contours of the disputes that would form the two major political philosophies that govern American politics got pushed center stage. This is the time of Jefferson and his acolytes, Madison and Monroe, and their partisans in the various state Democratic Republican organizations centered on the plebeian-supported local newspapers. And it is also the time when the original federalist impulse that governed the firs period of American life petered out in that form with the passing away of its old leadership, its cranky secessionist politics and its elitist conceits. That is a good enough time span for our work, basically the period from Jefferson’s hotly contested election in 2000 (oops, 1800) through the period formerly known as “the era of good feelings” (quaint, right?) to the period, today, now, tentatively, in the academy known as the period of the rise of “Jacksonian democracy”.

For those not familiar with the novelist John Dos Passos it should enough to know that he first came onto the American literary stage in a big way with his USA trilogy that both chronicled the changes in American life brought about by World War I and created a literary style, using slogans, headlines, brief bios and the like to present his story. This literary technique was later used, most famously, by E.L. Doctorow in such historical novels as “Ragtime” and the thinly-veiled Julius and Ethel Rosenberg story, “The Book Of Daniel”. Moreover, Dos Passos did more than his fair share of literary work for the defense in the famous Sacco and Vanzetti case on the 1920’s and later in the 1930’s in reportage on the Spanish Civil War. Alas, as is all to familiar among the American literati and intelligentsia from that period (and today, as well), Dos Passos turned against those strong social impulses of his youth and at the end became a devotee of the likes of Barry Goldwater in the 1960’s, as well as a “godfather” to the conservative youth then organized in the Young Americans For Freedom.

Those last points in the paragraph above are germane to Dos Passos’ view of the Jeffersonian story. This is, after, all the age where the Alexander Hamilton-led Federalist pro-mercantile strong central government policies and the Jefferson-led Democratic Republican weak central government, strong state governments pro-“yeoman farmer” policy fights came front and center. Those trends, in various guises, have continued to this day in the hurly-burly of every day democratic politics. Needless to say, this little capsule comment of mine concerning the outlines of the disputes is merely that, an outline. However, the contrasts presented here are central to Dos Passos’s views of Jefferson in the 1960’s when he would have been a Goldwaterite “small government” man. In the 1930’s, while he may have admired Jefferson and his coterie on other grounds, I believe that he would have taken a much different view on Jefferson.

One of Dos Passos’ virtues as a literary man is that he, unlike many professional historians then and now, brings a snappy literary style to his narrative. Thus, he spends less time on the arcana of the internal politics of the Federalist and Democratic Republicans and more on outcomes. Thus, although Thomas Jefferson is the central character of this work, plenty of space is given to other secondary characters central to this narrative like the on/off relationship between Jefferson and his predecessor John Adams, the rise of James Madison and James Monroe in the early 1800’s as adherents of the Jeffersonian tradition. The dog fight between Virginia and Massachusetts, as exemplars of contrasting governing styles, gets full play. As does the early work of rising politicians like John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson and Henry Clay who really do not come into their own until that later “Jacksonian” period mentioned earlier.

Of course no history of this period is complete without a nod to Jefferson’s inspired acquisition of the Louisiana Purchase as an important, if not defining, aspect of creating what would be come the American nation-state, the development of an internal transportation system, the rise of public education fostered by the post-presidential Jefferson and the increasing politicization of the governing process through increased literacy, broadening the suffrage franchise and the formation, in embryo, of the party system. The various problems with ‘Mother’ England (most notably the impressments of American sailors into the British navy during ‘their” Napoleonic wars) culminating in the almost forgotten War of 1812 also receive plenty of coverage, including the knotty maneuverings on the diplomatic front (Treaty of Ghent).

Obviously a history book, well written or not, that dates from the 1960’s will neither reflect the evolving tendencies in historical studies, such as they are, or the incredible increase in material sources to be drawn from that have become available since then. For example, the now “hot” issue of Jefferson’s relationship with his slave mistress, Sally Hemings, and their children is a case in point. Dos Passos, reflecting the received wisdom of the time (read: cover-up) passes on a rather agnostic view of their relationship, if not outright acceptance of the ‘evidence’ for denial of the relationship. Also far too little is mentioned about the importance of slave ownership to Jefferson’s personal financial fate, whatever his philosophical views on the matter. No historian today, other than one who wants to whitewash the slave-dependency common to many of the “founding fathers”, would make such an “omission”.

Finally, Dos Passos spends far too much time on the character, exploits and legal difficulties of one Aaron Burr, former Vice President of The United States and possibly “the once and future king” of some Trans-Louisiana state. Burr is set up, in fact is made to order, as the prime rascal of the age. And, perhaps, he was although this was an age of swashbucklers, solders of fortune, swindlers and confidence men. Hell, how do you think most nation-states got formed? I think Gore Vidal’s fictional treatment of Mr. Burr in his novel “Burr” is the place to go if you want to “learn” about that man. With these caveats, if you want a readable narrative about a key, if relatively neglected, period of the American historical experience this is not a bad place to start. If this read perks your interest this book is definitely not the place to finish though.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

*"Come To Mama"- The Blues Of Etta James

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Etta James Performing "Tell Mama".

This is a little quick entry for a blues queen that I will write more, much more, about later in connection with a review of "Cadillac Blues", a film based on the history of Chicago's Chess Records that gave Etta her start. Feast on.

*********

Here is a little tribute to a kindred spirit that the old time blues singer, Sippy Wallace, would call "sister".

"Come To Mama”- The Blues Of Ms. Etta James

Etta James And The Roots Band: Burning Down The House, Etta James and various artists, NTSC, 2001

The name Etta James goes back in my memory to associations with my first listening to rock music on the old transistor radio in the late 1950’s. At that time, I believe, her music was in the old doo wop tradition of the late 1950’s, a music that I was fairly soon to dismiss out of hand as the ‘bubble gum’ music that was prevalent in that period between the height of Elvis/Jerry Lee/Carl Perkins classic rock & rock and the Beatles and The Rolling Stones. That is where things were left until a dozen years ago or more when Etta ‘stole the show’ at the Newport Folk Festival. Well, we live and learn.

Here we have Etta, in a 2001 concert being recorded for this album, doing all the songs that she is justly famous for like “Born Blue” and “I Rather Be A Blind Girl” as well as some nice covers in her own style of the likes of Steppenwolf’s “Born To Be Wild”. Just a nice solid performance with a good back up band, including a couple of her sons.



Etta James- "Come To Mama" Lyrics

If the Sun goes behind the clouds
And you feel it's gonna rain
And if the moon ain't shinin bright
And the Stars, the Stars
Won't shine for you tonight
If your life is hard to understand
And your lovelife is out of hand
Oh, Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

If you need, if you need a satisfyer
Let me be, let me be your pacifyer
And if you feel, feelin like a horse
Chompin at the bit
Call my number 777-6969, I'll give you a fix
Cause I've got your favorite toy
Guaranteed to bring you joy
Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Lead Solo

+ de parolesAt Last I Just Want To Make Love To You Stormy Weather (keeps Rainin' All The Time) All I Could Do Was Cry Don't Cry Baby Hickory Dickory Dock Oh Happy Day Amen, This Little Light of Mine A Sunday Kind Of Love A Change Is Gonna Do Me Good

If your soul is on fire
Let me take you to the corner of the sky
Hey - Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Come to Mama
Come on come on to Mama
COME ON TO MAMA.....

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

***Our Homeland, The Sea- Work Songs Of The Old Tars

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Clancy Brothers Doing "Paddy West"

CD REVIEW

Blow Boys Blow, Ewan MacColl & A.L. Lloyd, Tradition Records, 1990

This review is a little off the beaten path for this writer. Oh no, not on the subject matter of the sea. There are a thousand primordial links between me and that great swirl of ocean which I will mention below. No, what is unusual is that I would discuss sea shanties, a form of musical expression that is not normally in my world view. I have explored the roots of rock & roll and engaged in the polemics about whether rhythm & blues, rockabilly or country formed the basis of that music revolution. I have gone on and on about the various manifestations of the blues, country and urban, acoustic and electric. I have endlessly discussed the urban folk revival of the early 1960s, ad nauseaum.

I have, moreover, tipped my hat to the precursors of that folk revival by reviewing the work of the likes of Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Lead Belly in the course of which I have discussed work songs, prison labor songs, cowboy songs, songs of the Spanish Civil War and so on. I have gladly thrown a bouquet or two to jazz singers, and to an occasional scat artist like Louis Armstrong. I have even gone down and dirty in bayou country to praise Cajun music. But nowhere have I previously been inclined to give mention to the work songs of the old tars, the sailor/workers of the age of the wooden ship which was the early means of "globalization" of international commerce in the early days of capitalist development. I make amends here to the boyos who sailed, slaved and survived on the wide oceans.

As mentioned above, this is a rather strange previous musical omission. I have many serious links to the sea. I grew up in a town so close to the ocean that I probably smelled sea air from an open hospital window the day I was born. From one house I grew up in I could tumble down a hill to the beach. In another I didn't need to even tumble. I have walked more beach miles than I care to recount. I have stood as hurricane winds came up and drove the waves over two double sea walls in an off-hand demonstration of her power. I have, from land and sea, seen cays, bays, narrows, wide empty expanses, and every other form of ocean creation. I have seen oceans as blues as the heavens, and as dark as the darkest night.

All of this is by way of saying, as I have on other occasions in discussing the old hobo skills of `riding the rails' in the days when trains were the common form of fast transportation, the old sailors, as least in their youths (if they had not been shanghai-ed, a common form of impressment), were trying to go THERE in order not to be HERE. And that, my friends, is the link that binds me to the work and off-time songs of the old salts and to their miseries and, few, joys.

So here in these CD selections we get a second-hand chance to listen to what Jack Tar was singing about in the days when men were made of steel, and ships of wood. Or so the lads would have us believe. One can appreciate, as an almost universal proposition, that music makes the hard task of work easier. But behind the singsong nature of the music lies some kind of undefined longing that has haunted humankind since it first walked on two legs. Here, that return to our homeland, the sea. In the meantime though the talk was of getting the sails up; getting a few hours of sleep or sneaking some; worrying over an impeding storm and its effects; dreaming, always dreaming of port and the girls left behind (or to be avoided); and that eternal thirst for that ration of rum, the `nectar of the gods' to benighted seaman (check to "All For Me Grog" for the inside dope on that subject). Listen up, mates.

Note: Probably the most interesting song here is "Handsome Cabin Boy" about the twisted fate of a beautiful young girl who shipped out as cabin boy, whose looks caught the attention of both the captain and his wife aboard ship (to speak nothing of the sex-hungry sailors), and who became pregnant (mysteriously?). I would think that it would take some serious psychological study to get to the "inner" meaning of that little ditty in the psyche of the closed-in sailor. Also give a close listen to "Paddy West", "Blow Boys Blow", and "South Australia".


"The Handsome Cabin Boy"

It's of a pretty female
As you may understand.
Her mind being bent for rambling
Unto some foreign land,
She dressed herself in sailor's clothes,
Or so it does appear,
And she hired with a captain
To serve him for a year.

[The captain's wife she being on board,
She seemed in great joy
To think the captain had engaged
Such a handsome cabin boy,
That now and then she'd slip him a kiss,
And she'd have liked to toy,
But 'twas the captain found out the secret
Of the handsome cabin boy.]

Her cheeks they were like roses
And her hair rolled in a curl.
The sailors often smiled and said
He looked just like a girl.
But eating of the captain's biscuit
Her colour did destroy,
And the waist did swell of pretty Nell,
The handsome cabin boy.

It was in the bay of Biscay
Our gallant ship did plow.
One night among the sailors
Was a fearful flurry and row.*
They tumbled from their hammocks
For their sleep it did destroy,
And they sworn about the groaning
Of the handsome cabin boy.

"Oh doctor, dear, oh doctor,"
The cabin boy did cry.
"My time has come, I am undone,
And I will surely die."
The doctor come a-runnin'
And a-smilin' at the fun.
To think a sailor lad should have
A daughter or a son.

The sailors when they saw the joke
They all did stand and stare.
The child belonged to none of them,
They solemnly did swear.
The captain's wife, she says to him,
"My dear, I wish you joy,
For 'tis either you or me's betrayed
The handsome cabin boy!"

[Now sailors, take your tot of rum
And drink success to trade,
And likewise to the cabin boy
That was neither man nor maid.
Here's hoping the wars don't rise again
Our sailors to destroy,
And here's hoping for a jolly lot more

Lyrics To South Australia

In South Australia I was born
To me heave away, haul away
In South Australia round Cape Horn
Chorus
We're bound for South Australia
Haul away you rolling kings
To me heave away, haul away
Haul away, you'll hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia

2. As I walked out one morning fair
To me heave away, haul away
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
Chorus:

3. I shook her up and I shook her down
To me heave away, haul away
I shook her round and round the town
Chorus:
4. I run her all night and I run her all day
To me heave away, haul away
And I run her until we sailed away
Chorus:
5. There ain't but one thing grieves me mind
To me heave away, haul away
To leave Miss Nancy Blair behind
Chorus:

6. And as we wallop around Cape Horn
To me heave away, haul away
You'll wish to God you'd never been born
Chorus:

7. In South Australia my native land
To me heave away, haul away
Full of rocks and thieves and fleas and sand
Chorus:


8. I wish I was on Australia's strand
To me heave away, haul away
With a bottle of whiskey in my hand
Chorus:

Paddy West

Lyrics:


As I was walking down London road
I come to Paddy West's inn
He taught me the ropes of a seafaring swob
While he filled my glass with gin
He said there's a ship that's waiting lad
And on her you quickly sign
Her mate is a black-guard her bow is worse,
But she will suit you fine

So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West

Well when I had my drink my boys
The wind began to blow
He sent me up in the attic
The main royal for to stow
But when I got up in the attic
No main royal could I find
So I turned around to the window
And I furled the window blind

So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West

Now suppose we're on the starboard boys
To Frisco we'd be bound
Oh Paddy he called for a length of rope
And he laid it on the ground
We all step over and back again
And he says to me "That's fine"
Now when they ask if you ever been to sea
You can say you've crossed the line

So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West

Now there's a more thing for you to do
Before you sail away
That's to step around the table
Where the bullock's horn does lay
And when they ask "Were you ever at sea?"
You can say "Ten times ´round the Horn"
And Be Jesus you were a sailor
Since the day that you was born

So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West

Blow Boys Blow Lyrics

A yankee ship came down the river.

Blow, boys, blow!

A yankee ship with a yankee skipper.

Blow, bully boys, blow!

And how do you know that she's a yankee clipper?
Blow, boys, blow!
Her masts and yards they shine like silver.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

And who do you think is the captain of her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, it's Bully Haines, th' hoodlum scoffer.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

And who do you think is the mate aboard her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Santander James is the mate aboard her.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

Santander James, he loves us sailors.
Blow, boys, blow!
Yes he does, like hell and blazes.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

Santander James, he's a rocket from hell boys.
Blow, boys, blow!
He'll ride you down as you ride the spanker.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

Blow, boys, blow - the sun's drawing water.
Blow, boys, blow!
Three cheers for the cook and one for his daugher.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, bully boys, blow!

 
Traditional, arranged by Peter Webster.