Friday, September 03, 2004


Kunst und Furz

Nineteen yo-yos got busted in Grand Central yesterday for their little "We still think it's 1968" party, kvetching (nominally) about AIDS, and of course blaming GWB for the quote unquote AIDS crisis. Let's go through this one more time. In most cases that disease is acquired through specific behaviors. A thinking, rational creature bears in mind the old joke "Doctor, it hurts when I do this!" (accompanied of course by some Pythonesque body contortion) to which the doctor snaps back, "Don't do this!". What did their little drama accomplish yesterday? People from Chappaqua and Darien generally don't engage in the sort of behaviors that generally lead to this condition. However, what do you want to bet that a lot of commuters got the royal order of the underwear skid mark when hearing and seeing a commotion of a hundred people suddenly demonstrating and causing the police to bums rush them. Folks in the big town are jittery lately, and they're concerned that Abdul and friends might want to show off their Kalashnikov or Semtex collections in public places. Especially train stations, and places where attractive targets might gather.

The banners and T-shirts were the usual height of idiotarianism, "Fight AIDS Not Iraq", "America has AIDS. Our next president must stop the plague" and "If Bush had AIDS what would he do?". Funny enough I don't see advocacy groups for cancer, emphysema, colitis or other horrid diseases disturbing the peace (unless of course you count Mr. Lewis' annual schnorrathon; there've been some seriously creepy moments on that show that go into the Hall of Fame of Bad Television. Consider Lewis fils returning to the stage with a new incarnation of the Playboys - read as some local pickup musicians who could dope out the chords to "Everybody Loves A Clown" - and having a countenance that made Brian Wilson seem positively like William F. Buckley. Or the quote unquote dramatic reading by Patty Duke, somewhere between "Valley Of The Dolls" and lithium, that left the entire cast, crew and audience puzzled). I don't particularly see advocates for cerebral palsy or lupus forcing people to wear ribbons because the politically correct have decided that the cause overrides people's individual opinions (most people being sheep, they'd go along with things if they're handed a ribbon at an event and told to wear it; a simple "no thank you" would probably defuse the situation in a normal situation, but since these attention whores thrive on the negativity, they'd dearly love a confrontation).

Just what the hell is the fixation these people have with police whistles? They sure grab attention, but what do you want to bet that folks who hear those whistles will think something bad is up, and either hit the deck or freeze? Fine, civic-minded people, who'll do anything to protect their community of licentiousness at the expense of the ordinary folk who just want to do their jobs and go home to their families. Feh.

For some reason, that reminds me of a gig I played back around 1978 at a college mixer. The crowd was initially pretty cool, then it got invaded by a bunch of the local campus leftie nutcases. We were playing "Light My Fire" and the lefties, after complaining that we didn't do anything they could dance to (we courteously reminded them that we were a rock band and had no capability or desire to reproduce "Fly Robin Fly" or other Eurodiscocrap), crowded the normal types off the dance floor and blew police whistles on off-beats, trying to screw us up. I was looking for the lead leftie after that one, wanting to give him the same treatment that Pete Townshend gave Abbie Hoffman at Woodstock.

I'll post a bit later on the aftermath of the Russian school attack.


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