Lemme At Im

I wanna kill Jesus.

You know, I’d love to be a nicer person to all the good people of the world who happen to also be christian, but it’s mighty hard.  Mighty hard.  Shitbird preachers like to unfairly characterize atheists as all hating god &/or jesus, but I’m sure it isn’t true for most of you.  It is true of me.  Very true.

There is, on balance, more justification in the words of jesus for progressive ideas than for conservative ones.  Twisting that shit into prosperity gospel and gaybashing is twisting.  But I don’t care about the feelings of some ancient dead guy.  I care about the monster he created, and if I am to take his continued supernatural existence as true – as christians want me to do – then if I were to meet this superghost?

Fuck that motherfucker.  It’s on.

I’m that Dexter-flavored hypocrite who wants to kill the killers.  Atrocities make me mad, make me feel like doing something atrocious, and there are now millennia of horrors that happened on resurrected jeezy’s watch.  Culturally christian people who wanted to believe they could point to something older and better within their ancestors invented wicca, which – in culturally christian fashion – positions one’s people as the real victims in all of this.

Well, your people are the real victims in all of this, wiccans, but witches aren’t your people any more than they are mine.  Your people have been christian for a very long time, like their oppressors.  Christians oppress christians more than the Romans ever had a chance to.  These are the atrocities of which I spoke.  Of those that were tortured and killed for witchcraft, how many had any cultural context for being anything other than christian (or atheist, which can come into existence without being taught)?  Europe was utterly dominated by christianity during all of the witch hunting times.  Their victims were christian.  (oh yeah just remembered the muslims and jewish people, lol.  anyway…)

That’s not mentioning the much more frequent form of historical oppression they engaged in – sectarian warfare.  Genocidal violence, mass slaughter, women and children hung from the walls, cities burned – all for believing in jesus wrong.  I look at that shit and cannot feel schadenfreude about jerks I disagree with killing each other.  I see the torture and murder, and it infuriates me.

Somebody’s gotta pay, and if I try to pin down which sect shot first, that’s playing their game.  No.  I can do them one better.  These sects wouldn’t exist if jesus wasn’t a real supernatural guy that rose on the third day yadda yadda, right, Kenneth?  Only the magic version of jesus could have inspired these millennia of obscene cruelty.  And therefore, magic jesus must die by my hands.

Gimme the spear, centurion.  It’s time to stick this pig again.  For old time’s sake.  Just a jesus murdering party, me and my besties.  Who’s in?

Guys?  C’mon, it’ll be fun.  Guys?

 

 

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Brainjackin: Renaissance Cuties

We’ve all heard the names of various renaissance artists before, right?  Not being Italian, it’s easy to miss that some of those guys are known by nicknames.  Davinci, Caravaggio, Raphael, Tintoretto, Botticelli, and Bronzino sound similar enough to anglophones, but that list is the equivalent of Anglos being named Stratford, Carmichael, James, Spunky, Reginald, and Prettyboy.

In particular, Tintoretto’s nickname meant something like “little painter boy” and Bronzino’s “tan boy.”  There was a military dude from back then, who is best known now from being the subject of art – a sculpture bearing his nickname, the Gattamelata.  That shit means “honey cat.”

I suppose history will remember Cherilyn Sarkisian as Cher and Louise Ciccone as Madonna, so maybe we’re still at it.  But regarding those renaissance cuties, I didn’t know about it until my husband told me this information he had picked up in Art History.  Thanks, man.  I’m turning this tidbit into blog content.  The essence of brainjackin’.

What other historical figures are known by a nickname?

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Throwing the Game

A thought follows from my recent bothsiderism post.  There have been a lot of situations like this in recent years, haven’t there?  A group or individual devoted to a cause decides they hate some oppressed people so powerfully that they ally with opponents, and set their own cause back by decades.  The obvious example is terfs aiding fundies to absolutely devastate women’s rights, all because trans women are yucky.

The slvmepit queen’s contribution to fascism set vaccine acceptance, research, and availability back decades, when that was originally her cause.  If memory serves.  Maybe she was more of a nü atheist, whose raison d’être was pwning christians, and didn’t spend much digital ink on pro-vaxxing.  It’s been a long time.

Dawkins, Harris, etc set atheism back a lot.  One of the sorest groups of burned atheists has to be the Military Religious Freedom Foundation, who recently had to watch christian bigots gloating as they excluded women from military careers, had to watch the executive branch that controls the military go from being the most inclusive it had ever been in history to literally labeling DEI as a hate movement.  But, y’know, having to respect people on their own terms is a tall ask.  Better to hand the world over to theo-fascism, right?

Man that last group really hacks me off.  Terfs are just comparable to nazis to me.  They’re gloating, gleefully evil moustache-twirling freaks, living their best lives at the expense of the human species.  Consistent in their evil, right?  Anti-woke atheists are such mealy-mouthed little creeps, weaselly motherfuckers acting like there’s a centrist or even liberal way to oppose social justice, man, I wanna slap the shit out of them.  Don’t ever let me meet that little old man.  I don’t know how well I could restrain myself.

I wonder if there are any environmentalists out there who got environmental protections overturned because somebody asked them to be nice to black people.  I wonder if there are any black power activists who got racist politicians elected because the alternative was a woman.  I wonder if there are any women who … eh, we all know that story now.

All I’d like to say in conclusion is this:  If your support for a cause is so weak that you’ll throw the game that hard, maybe don’t get involved in the first place?  Nobody needs friends like you.  Fuck’s sake, atheism is probably worse off now than if Dawkins had never picked up a microphone.

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Gangbusters

In real life, it seems like organized crime and the FBI were nearly as bad as each other, by turns.  If you want to point to feds fighting the Klan, you have to remember that one of their informants killed children in an act of race terrorism.  To what extent did taxpayers foot the bill for that atrocity?  Or suicide-baiting MLK, blackmailing gay people, etc.  We can also point to mobsters who did a few good things, like fighting against domestic nazism before the US got involved in WWII, giving some charity back to their communities, etc.

Probably on balance the mobsters were worse.  Those guys are fucked-up monsters.  The feds have “protect people from criminals” in their job description and surely lived up to that ideal in at least a half-assed way once in a while.  The job description for mobster is “do nasty shit that is illegal for a good reason.”  Any good they achieved was optional and incidental.

This is a dreampost tho.  Why get into all that?  I believe these opinions influenced a dream I had recently.  It took place in a Prohibition era setting, with cops and robbers treated as a source of humor.  It was all in good fun there.  Zany hijinks, Keystone Cops shit.  But near the end of the dream, there was a chase scene that took a dark turn.

Cops were pursuing crooks when a car full of civilians got in the way.  There were a lot of people, like it was an open-topped bus.  The cops didn’t stop blasting at all, firing tommy guns through the crowd to hit the mobsters.  The first wound was a guy getting a fingertip blown off, followed by a lady getting shot in the back of the head, with the exit wound in her eye socket.  Not as big as it would have been in real life, tho it was disgusting.

This is normal enough for my dreams.  Gotta bring on the gore the closer I get to the alarm clock going off.  Wake up time.

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A Moment of Bothsiderism

The gnu-flavored atheist movement was founded in part by people who favored military adventurism against muslim-majority countries, chiefly Christopher Hitchens.  That movement quickly morphed into a broad liberalism which appealed to less bloodthirsty people like you and I.  That was revealed to be paper thin cover for a reactionary mindset during Elevatorgate, which is why FtB is so much smaller than SciBlogs had been before the schism.

Elevatorgate’s queen was Abby ERV, who basically abandoned pro-vax activism in favor of a 24-7 misogyny campaign.  Together with Gamergate and the MRA and incel movements, these were the foundational kernel of the neo-nazism that has taken over the USA.  If you meet a rethuglican bro under fifty, he probably spent some time in one or more of these online communities, or their descendants.

If we take that piece of shit ERV as being an icon of atheo-skepticism who contributed to fascism, what of her opposite number in the anti-vax movement, Jenny McCarthy?  Anti-vaxxing (and medical woo in general) used to be strongly associated with liberals, with left of center people.  When conservatives embraced anti-vaxxing, those people swung hard.  I’ve had the misfortune of talking to some of them.  Maybe they have a left belief or two among the gallery of monsters in their skulls, but they are ardent supporters of shitler, and many are Qanon as well.  Both pro- and anti-vaxxing contributed to fascism.

So here’s my moment of bothsiderism.  Who contributed more to our present political ruination, gnu atheists or antivaxxers?  Abby ERV or Jenny McCarthy?  Even tho the actor was much more famous, I honestly do not know the answer to this question.  Both movements had some amount of access to the halls of power via lobbyists or cultural prestige.

In composing this post, I found myself reflecting on the strange political moments and movements that added up to Nazi USA.  That broad tent is wild as hell.  It’s so much easier to take the world apart than to make it better.  The locust swarms flow into and out of each other, devouring hope and love.

I do not fault anyone for feeling doomed and destroyed, but I still have hope for all of you, that you keep it together, that you enjoy the things you can, and you don’t feel too overwhelmed by the overwhelming circumstances.  We’ve got each other and we’re still alive, baby.

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Princesa de la Nuca

Had a dream that nuclear czar was a job title that existed for each nuclear weapon, of which there were only a few dozen in existence.  It was a hereditary title that had been passed down from Europe before taking its modern form in the USA.  The dream took place in the late medieval period, following a widowed nuclear czarina in a Penelope situation.  A crappy noble guy that had squandered his fortune came seeking hers, as she was not wed, but high castle walls and loyal servants ran interference.

First, it was a group of young ladies that blocked the suitor in his efforts; later it was me, in the mode of an ambiguously employed jester-thief-vizier.  I either low-key betrayed her or just failed in my duty, resulting in the suitor gaining access.  She was obliged to marry him, to spend years watching him squander her fortune.

The sheisty czar was talking about how it was perfectly natural that he had lost most of her money on a timeshare, when she snapped and asked me what the hell she was supposed to do about all of this.  I replied, “I’m really surprised this guy isn’t in chunks by now, spread from here to the Danube.”  We started killing him and I woke up shortly after that.

I never did find out how she was in charge of nukes several hundred years before they were invented.

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How Racist Were These Candies?

You’re a baby, then you’re a kid, then you’re a teenager.  My kid years were mostly in Seattle, especially toward the end, and there was a window of time when we started to go places without adult supervision back then.  This was unusual for us.  Our parents always told us to stay indoors when we were alone.  If my father got back to find the door unlocked, he would say the same refrain, “Well, you’re all raped and murdered.”

But his ass left town to try and sober up from the drugs and alcohol, leaving our mom alone with us, and slouching on her responsibilities as much as she could get away with.  It led to some really bad situations, but at least when we got out and started roving Beacon Hill, none of us did get raped or murdered.  I’m not sure how we had some pocket change to work with, but we had some pocket change, and used it to buy candies in the one to twenty-five cent range.  If I recall this right, individually wrapped atomic fireballs, jawbreakers, and now&laters would run one to five cents, later a dime.  Laffy taffies more like a dime, and a tiny box of candies would be a quarter.

Those boxes were cool.  Cute designs that probably remained unchanged between the 1960s and 1980s, a half-handful of candy versus those single bites you’d get for a nickel.  There were boston baked beans, cinnamon imperials, jawbreakers (smaller than the individually sold ones), lemonheads, alexander the grape, and cherry clan.

Those last three were all made on the same idea.  Sweet and sour, waxy color shell around a chewy white core.  Of course, they had artificial lemon grape and cherry flavor and the corresponding colors.  Let’s see what those cute little boxes looked like, shall we?

The fight against racism is a long and winding road, and sometimes it seems like the work will never, ever end.  The way things unfold is sometimes surprising.  As I reflect, it feels really weird this particular flavor of racism lasted so long.  A few decades ago, people were calling attention to the trope of Asian girls in cartoons always having a stripe of dyed hair, like, what’s this shit about?  Seems like small potatoes compared to things that were happening a decade before that.

Remember the big advertising push from the Dick Tracy movie in 1990?  How merch and tie-ins were omnipresent in a nearly unprecedented way?  They were aiming for a repeat of what Batman had achieved the year before, but failed big.  I don’t know if it was part of that campaign or just some local programmers trying to capitalize on that hype, but a 1960s era Dick Tracy cartoon started rerunning on my local channel 13, KCPQ.  I’m not sure what was wrong with my young brain, but I watched that shit.

By that shit, I mean this shit:

That show featured Dick Tracy sitting behind a desk calling henchcops on an anachronistic wrist video phone.  His henchcops, who did all the work for him, were racist stereotypes, like Joe Jitsu up there.  Maybe because they were good guys and always won, the fact they were racist cartoons didn’t register the same way it did when Bugs Bunny was clowning on a racist stereotype of a black person.  Maybe I was just racist?  I don’t remember being like that, but so very many people are blind to their own shit.

I was a teenager by then, fourteen!

Again, I’m just thinking about how cool and progressive we all felt about ourselves in 1990.  Jim Crow was in a history book, vanquished by saintly MLK.  And yet, here this was, on TV, in front of my young eyeballs.  It ain’t funny.  I wonder if some Rupert Murdoch affiliate is going to bring the show back for a third go now…

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Discolology: Dead Milkmen IV

Dead Milkmen decloak!  The punks of auld were born again unto music makin’ this millennium, with new albums and tours.  RIP Dave but the show must go on.  The band’s revival is the only reason I was ever able to see them in concert, which I do not regret.  Check out the previous parts of this series and others to come (when they come) on my Discolology tag.  I continue now, briefly reviewing every album and song in their discography.

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The King In Yellow (2011)

They’re back, baby!  This time they were indie, self-releasing.  I love to see it.  And promoting this album was the reason for the tour where I finally saw them live.  This album feels a lot more uneven to me than earlier ones, which is funny because it doesn’t have the radical swings in production quality from Big Lizard.  The worse songs on it have a quality that’s hard to put a finger on, in some way worse than the stinkers on older albums?  Lyrically.  Sometimes the vocals are a bit harder to understand than they used to be, which one could attribute to aging voices, but there’s an album after this that does not have the same problem?  Nonetheless, there are some classics on this album, some good times to be had…

Classics

***** “Meaningless Upbeat Happy Song” is ableist as hell.  Says Rodney, “I you didn’t check the box next to ‘I am always sad’ there is something seriously wrong with you, because it’s a terrible world, filled to the rafters with cretins and morons.”  This is very gratifying ableism, especially in times like these.  Now put it next to that punk eugenics track from Big Lizard and see illustrated a possible problem of focusing on the stupidity of your political opposites.  These inclinations come from the same place, whether we want them to or not.  Still, I love the song.

***** How did a total anthem come so late on the album?  It’s the third to last track.  “I Can’t Relax” rules.  Thanks, Joe Jack.

Good Stuff

*** “Caitlin Childs” is riffing on the fact that blando christian lifestyle lady Caitlin Childs was once surveilled by the feds for animal rights activism, the idea here that she really is a righteous and dangerous revolutionary.  It paints a picture of her slouching in the ghetto with a buzzcut and quoting Voltaire, fomenting overthrow of the government.  Kinda funny, decent music, though Rodney sounds more strained than other songs on here, out of breath.

**** Is that musical saw or theremin?  “Hangman” is funky action cool.  Joe’s turn to sound vocally beat, but he does fine.

*** Jeezis, “Some Young Guy” is weird.  Joe Jack assumes the role of gay stalker / serial killer.  Congrats on running with a disturbing premise.  I rather like the music on this album, but the prevalence of murder themes has me knocking off stars.  This song, upon reflection, feels like an answer song to “Skulls” by The Misfits.  That track is about serial killing little girls, this one is about serial killing the demographic that is statistically most likely to serial kill little girls.  However, “Skulls” is just a massively better tune.  I do think that even at this point in their lives, the Milkmen could write a tune as good as baby Danzig, but this is far from it.  It’s good, but “Skulls” is great, and given this is the less problematic of the two, that’s a shame.

*** “Buried In The Sky” has cool music, an atheistic and pessimistic message, with a word about “love the one you’re with” tossed off near the end.  Soul Rotation-ish, pretty good.

Filler

** I don’t care for the lead-off track “William Bloat.”  It does establish that punk rock murder balladry is going to be a thing from now on.  I don’t love the theme or lyrics.  Music is pretty tight.  It welcomes you back to their style, if you hadn’t heard them in more than a decade, which was possible at that point.

** I just don’t get “Fauxhemia,” which is about how Rodney just doesn’t get Nora Jones.  All I know about Nora Jones is she does, like, jazz-affected art pop?  Art pop-affected jazz?  Or am I mixing that up with somebody else?  And also that she’s Ravi Shankar’s love child.  This is alternated with Rodney yelling about a psychic baby that knows when you’re going to die, reminiscent of the alternating lyrics on “When I Get to Heaven” from Stoney’s Extra Stout Pig.  On the other hand, maybe it’s a reference to Jones’s music that I wouldn’t know.  I never realized before reviewing all of their songs just how many cultural and literary references I might be missing.  I knew I was getting a lot, but I’m realizing I may have missed a lot more.

** She’s Affected.  has a cool fuzzy synth refrain and propulsive beat, but the lyrics feel kinda ehh.  Complaining about a mature lady being pretentious.  Consider “She Thinks She’s Edith Head” by They Might Be Giants as a corollary with better lyrics and weaker music.

*** I recognize the musical quality of “Cold Hard Ground,” which is a bouncy country song about going on a killing spree.  The subject matter puts me off rating it higher.

** Why does Rodney hate my husband so much?  “Or Maybe It Is” complains about people reading about sensitive vampires.  More goth hate!  Sir, isn’t the band you share with your wife about witchy bullshit?  Isn’t it?  This is the least inspired song on the album.  Xylophone tho.  It’s alright.

** “Passport To Depravity” is a Roman history lesson – not a strong entry to their canon, but not bad.

** “Quality Of Death” inverts hoary advice to be portents of doom.  Not terrible.  Filler.

* “13th Century Boy,” musically, has me feeling very ungenerous to filler tracks.  Political, decent idea, but eh.  Surprising similarity to the song its title references, tho not full-on parody.

** “Melora Says” it’s time to dust off the pipe you played in “Woman Who is Also a Mongoose” and sing about that wacky steampunk broad from Rasputina.  I do like me some ‘sputina.  Oddball idea, average music, doesn’t overstay its welcome.

** “Solvents (For Home And Industry)” is classic Milkmen, reminiscent of the themes of “Watching Scotty Die.”  Not as pushy as that song, but hits a lot less hard.  Too long, but it’s alright.  Some musical similarity to “Belafonte’s Inferno.”  Not the worst way to end the album.

Garbage

* “Commodify Your Dissent” is more of an overbearing defeatist lament than a song.  Obvious idea boringly executed.

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Pretty Music For Pretty People (2014)

While this album is more experimental than The King in Yellow, and while it’s partially composed of random singles from between the two albums, it feels like they were getting into the groove of working together again, growing as artists.  Noteworthy for having more synth throughout.  Lots of good stuff here.  Some of their most interesting work, without sacrificing listenability – except insofar as an abrasive novelty-punk band is always going to be kinda sketchy on listenability.  Seriously tho, as I went through rating the tracks, I realized I like this album a lot.  By the time I got to the end, this stood as my latter day fave.

Classics

***** The title and lead-off track “Pretty Music For Pretty People” has Rodney in good vocal form, starting to skew more Jello Biafra than he used to.  Sadly, the song accidentally presses an obscure social justice warrior button.  It’s brutally mocking a (hypothetical) lady pop star who strives to be apolitical and commercial, and one of the points it makes against her is that she slept with journalists to get good reviews.  Remember gamergate‘s central outrage / accusation against Zoë Quinn?  Ethics in games journalism?  They don’t gender this pop star so one could read it as being about a dude, but eh, it feels pretty obvious.  I certainly don’t think they would have gone there if they’d been aware of those insect boys and what they were about, but it happened, and that says something.  These guys are defenders of abortion and generally good on feminist subjects, but those cultural biases still loom large.  Still, if you feel nostalgic for punk rock carny music or are feeling snotty about the music industry, this is your dog.  It is really fun.

***** “Now I Wanna Hold Your Dog” refers to the classic Stooges song of course, but is a zany high-speed punk rock romp.  It might bother one if it puts them in mind of weirdos bothering ladies at the supermarket.  Seriously tho, this song fucking rocks out.

***** “The Sun Turns Our Patio Into A Lifeless Hell” is a high point for me.  It’s reminiscent of Black Sabbath, with Joe Jack actually doing some low key Jimi Hendrix type shit on the guitar.  It jumps out from the album, it goes hard, it’s just excellent.  Correct and appropriate they did a music video for it.

Good Stuff

**** “Big Words Make The Baby Jesus Cry” brings what the title promises and not much more, but it didn’t have to, did it?  We like to mock the people who worked tirelessly to bring back the Dark Ages.  I am especially fond of the last verse.

**** “Welcome To Undertown” is a cool trip into a musical genre I never learned the name for.  That 1960s James Bond shit by way of beatniks, um…  I dunno.  Amusing Rodney performance, tho the lyrics on the verses are uninspired.  Still a very fun song.  I’m into it.

*** “Mary Ann Cotton (The Poisoner’s Song)” is classic Joe Jack Talcum folk punk run thru the Not Richard but Dick easy listening filter, and it’s good.  I imagine the titular character is a historical person I should be aware of, but am less interested in that than just digging the vibes, yo.

***** “I’ve Got To Get My Numbers Up” again spells out its premise well.  It’s an aggressively paced and anxious song to fit the theme, but it rocks well.  You know, as I rate this track highly, I have to wonder if I’m just easily fooled by people making music fast and angry.

*** “Anthropology Days” might be the most overtly political song they’ve ever done, listing historic crimes as a way to get you angry about contemporary outrages.  It specifically spells out that intent in the refrain, which is kinda hilarious.  Nothing innovative going on here, and the overtly didactic message could be off-putting to some, but it’s another way they’re treading into Dead Kennedys territory, and I find that pretty cool.  Again with strongly ableist language on the chorus, which is the cost of putting these guys on and letting the album run.

**** You ever hear of the song “Warm Leatherette” by The Normal, referencing J.G. Ballard’s novel Crash in the most obvious possible way?  “Dark Clouds Gather Over Middlemarch” mentions that song, as well as making its own zany reference to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” on the chorus.  This is one of their songs that tells the story of a character, this one in third person.  It’s a lady who thought the cool music scene of late ’70s – early ’80s London would bring her fulfillment in life, but met an ignominious fate.  Arguably low key misogynist again, but less so than some other tracks in that vein.  Pretty damn good, might be too earwormish for me to listen often.

**** “The Great Boston Molasses Flood” belongs to that genre of songs that musically evoke the situation the lyrics describe.  It’s clarifying for me some of the differences between their older sound and what’s going on with this album.  The drumming is heavy-handed, there’s just a harder sound all-around, and there are more songs that lean into music over novelty.  Solid.

**** The album ends with “Sanitary Times,” which is Joe Jack advertising the service of electroplating your dead loved ones.  Mellow, disturbed, a nice listen.  Good choice to close things out.  The music matches the mood of the lyrics perfectly, a sickly groan lurching through a world of utter indignity, looking for solutions in the absurd.

Filler

** I’m not sure about “Make it Witchy,” like, what it’s even about.  It doesn’t sound interesting enough to make me find out.  Is it about murdering celebrities Manson family style?

*** “Somewhere Over Antarctica” is a surprisingly straightforward HP Lovecraft retelling, referring to the same story as “Shoggoths Away” by Darkest of the Hillside Thickets.  Remember those guys?  Remember when all you’d have to do to make dorks drool is flash a little tentacle?  That all seems so played out to me, personally, but this one gets a little credit for not spelling it out that explicitly, and it’s a nice listenable track.  Mellow.

*** “Streetlamps – Walking To Work” is a mostly instrumental track, transforms into a little song at the end.  It’s a whole-ass mood, but not very noteworthy.  ‘S’alright.

*** “All You Need Is Nothing” might be the first song I’ve ever heard refer to breatharianism, tho they didn’t mention the name.  It’s not remarkable in this company, but for a filler track it’s pretty good.  This album occasionally reminds me of Soul Rotation, which might have been their least loved ’90s disc, but hey, Soul Rotation wasn’t bad at all.

*** “Ronald Reagan Killed The Black Dahlia” proposes that a few years into his term as head of the Screen Actors’ Guild, Ronald Reagan used that position to get away with gruesomely murdering a young lady who wanted to be an actress.  I believe it.  Next!

** “Hipster Beard” is an old school Milkmen filler song, if on the good side, and featuring more synth throughout.

Garbage

Nothing!  No garbage!

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Welcome To The End Of The World (2017 EP)

From the first track it seems like they’re keeping up the ideas from the previous album, of adding more electronics to their sound, of making it rock.  Disappointing to see the vocal mixing weak again.  Surprised to hear more swears on the album.  Makes sense for a release in the first year shitler was inaugurated.  Overall my impression is that this was musically creative, guys leaning into their instruments more, but they didn’t have a lot to say.  Funny, because that’s a moment in history when a lot of people had a lot to say.

Maybe it came out in the four or five months of shock when everybody was recalibrating their sense of reality.  We didn’t have that this time around, did we?  These nazis are a known quantity now, to people who were paying any fucking attention at all the first time around.  This time they hit the ground running for fascism, and the people on the street resisted immediately.  I like that about us.

Classics

***** At the very last track, Rodney turned in the most meaningful lyrics on the album.  “Tomorrow Should’ve Been Here Years Ago” feels like it might be a first person song about gay marriage in a time of bitter and dispiriting political strife.  Rodney is straight married, right?  I think that’s cool when heteros bring real empathy for us.  Honestly, as short as this song is, I’d call it the only essential track on this EP.  To be clear, the song doesn’t say anything about gayness, but “we should have been married a long time ago” sounds like the characters in the song were not legally allowed to.

Good Stuff

*** “The Brutalist Beat” opens with a reference to Throbbing Gristle.  I feel like I should be recognizing the samples.  Vocals mixed better, lyrics ain’t saying much.  Creative music, better than the lead track (see Filler below) in most respects.

*** “The Coast Is Not Clear” has Joe Jack step to the mic for the first and only time on the album and he also doesn’t have much to say.  Very cool music.  What the fuck is this genre?  This they have in common with They Might Be Giants, the other major band that careens between novelty act and serious musicians on all of their albums.

Filler

** The album starts with “Only The Dead Get Off At Kymlinge,” about transporting people in an irresponsible and possibly lethal fashion… Hey, that’s what their worst song ever was about.  Wotta coincidence.  The raw idea here ain’t bad but Rodney gave up on writing lyrics so hard.  Bad job.

*** “Battery Powered Rat” is a cool instrumental track, the soundtrack to a nonexistent cartoon of the same name.

** “Welcome To The End Of The World” violates my doomerism policy lol.  Weakly mixed vocals again, lyrics not saying much.  Makes sense for the first year Shitler was inaugurated.

Garbage

Nothing on here is all that bad.

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(We Don’t Need This) Fascist Groove Thang / A Complicated Faith (2020)

***/** Heaven 17’s response to Cowboy Ronnie’s election in 1980 charted in the UK despite a lot of censorship.  The Dead Milkmen turned in a pretty faithful cover as a single in 2020, with an original on the B side.  How was “A Complicated Faith”?  Eh.  ‘S’alright, doesn’t inspire me.  Complements the cover song well enough.

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Depends On the Horse​.​.​.​ (2020)

Their wikipedia discography doesn’t even mention this one and I’m certain the dudes prefer it like that.  This isn’t an album per se; it’s a compilation of musical challenges they played with on a yewchoob show.  They are mostly very low effort, just fucking around.  Something really great about this is that they all have music videos.  Electric Six tried to do videos for everything on their Switzerland, less successfully.

Classics

***** I expected “Let’s Go To Sleep” to reference “Jorge Regula” by The Moldy Peaches, but it did not.  OK tho, this one fucking rules ass.  I’m into it.  Random Andalusian Dog reference in the video so ware thee.

Good Stuff

**** “Cooking On Acid” is the lead track.  I wish the Rodney vocals on this were more clear.  They’re run through crackly distortion like a pine cone full of glass shards.  It’s a zany irresponsible drug romp and sounds real fun, I like the lyrics and he’s singing fine, but the recorded sound…  I’d appreciate a proper album version of this in the future.  Doesn’t seem likely to happen.

*** “Bigfoot and the Mob” should be fun for depressed skeptics whose movement leaders enthusiastically supported the Aeternal Reich, a chance to enjoy feeling superior to conspiracy people for a minute.  Light fun.

*** “Caitlin Childs Redux” has Rodney basically one-man-banding the entire song from TKiY, with samples from that HUAC bullshit.  It’s a good performance.  The song probably is better with analog instruments in the mix tho.

*** “Little Man In My Head” has Joe Jack one-man-banding a more percussion-heavy cover of an old Milkman track, originally sung by Rodney.  I wonder if he actually wrote the lyrics and Rodney just sang them the first time around.  ‘S’alright, nonessential.

*** “Before Using This Appliance” is an original track again, and the video has Rodney singing along with a hand puppet of the Church of Satan’s Anton LaVey.  One of a few songs the guys submitted for a “read the manual” challenge.  Fun experiment, a few good yuks, nonessential.

*** “Oui Oui On The Steppes” has Mongolian throat singing, but just for sustained notes at the beginning and end, while Rodney plays the character of a French goth out of place – afraid the world will end before he can take his intended to the Lebanon Hanover show.  Bonus points for mentioning Lebanon Hanover.

Filler

** “Why Do People Lie?” is a lil synth-heavy ditty on a well-trod theme.  Light fun.

** “Opposite Day” is kind of interesting, as musical experimentation should be.  Like much of the album, nonessential, but it caught my attention more than the two tracks before it.

** “Sri Lanka Sex Hotel Redux” has a video reminiscent of the motion graphics in Tribe Called Quest’s “Scenario.”  The electronic instrumentation has some cool bits, but overall it’s … nonessential.  Funny to hear one of the pop culture references updated.

** “I Tripped Over The Ottoman” has one of the non-vocalist milkmen one-man-band an old track.  Amusing, well done, but not something I see myself coming back to.

** “Now I Wanna Hold Your Dog” has a different non-vocalist milkman one-man-banding one of their newer tracks, with added German.  Amusing but is exhibit A in why he isn’t a singer.  That’s not the reason I’m not coming back to it.  Most of these tracks just aren’t entertaining enough for repeat listens.

** “Butterflies Are Pretty” was surely for the manual challenge, different participant.  Without one of their usual lyricists or most of their usual instruments, this feels particularly like it has nothing to do with who the band are.

** “Electric Chainsaw” has Joe on vocals reading another manual.  Music was kinda groovy but… what’s that word I keep saying?

* “The Pleasure Of Sharp Knives (Every Day)” is the last manual, at least.  The gimmick wore thin.

* “The Trancelvania Polka Parts I & II” is that “Pennsylvania Polka” guff from Groundhog Day (and i dunt know where before that), house remix.  Alright then.  Next.

* “Cat Hair In My Snare” is an instrumental track written to the challenge of blending reggae and goth/industrial music.  OK.

** “Big Questions Theme Music” is the theme for a vlog they done.  Kinda 70s educational film flavored.  OK.

Garbage

Nothing here is noteworthy enough to be garbage.

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Quaker City Quiet Pills (2023)

Extremely uneven production and vocal mixing, which is still a disappointment after Pretty Music for Pretty People.  Some of the political content feels like it dates from Shitler’s first rodeo, but it was released at peak Biden.  Not that the fash went away, and as we know now, they were about to come roaring back.  It still feels like poison running through my blood, reflecting on it for even a moment – a people so consumed by hate and fear and greed, all around me with their nasty little hearts and shitty little minds.  Fuck ameriKKKa a lot.

Classics

*** “We Are (Clearly Not) The Master Race” is the song you expect it to be, parodying a shitty young neo-nazi who lives with his parents.  It’s obvious but entertaining enough.  There is one thing that boosts it a lot for me – Joe and Rodney doing a skit, like they did on “Bitchin’ Camaro.”  Joe plays the nazi’s mom.  I was cryin’.

**** “Hen’s Teeth And Goofa Dust” …ok, you’re just The Cramps now.  This is a great song, but the way Rodney sings the chorus is a little weak.  I love the way he sings the verses tho.  I also think it’s funny they couldn’t resist breaking character to drop a pop culture reference you would not hear from self-respecting psychobillies.

Good Stuff

*** “Grandpa’s Not A Racist (He Just Voted For One)” is just what you think it would be, but there are a few good yuks in there.

**** “Philadelphia Femdom” is a bouncy upbeat rock song in the vein of “Back in the USSR,” singing about how this dominatrix is putting the spurs to conservative politicians and priests and such.  The chorus feels weak, a recurring issue on this album.  Kinda fun anyway.

*** “Musical Chairs” is a metaphor for how society is too competitive, nobody satisfied with winning unless victory came at somebody else’s expense.  Joe Jack.  Is decent, tho at only three minutes, it’s longer than I needed it to be.

**** “How Do You Even Manage To Exist?” is a never-made-it standup comedian’s rant about people who hold up the line at the restaurant.  Literally that’s how it starts.  I like the intense music, the lyrics eh.  People who liked Stuart may dig it a lot.  The music is strong and the comic delivery is good, if the comedy is played out.

**** “Melt Into The Night” is a dark new wave song.  Coldwave?  The lyrics have Joe Jack as a renegade scientist at odds with his employers.  Mysterious.  Sinister.  I am impressed these guys keep doing new shit.  Kinda cool.

Filler

** “The King Of Sick” is a Cramps concept being rendered in a different style, but is that style stock Milkmen?  Not exactly.  I don’t know how I’d characterize it.  Reminds me of psychobilly, but not quite there.  What else is in this mix?  Bob Seger?  I can’t tell.  I didn’t go to school for this shit.  ‘S’alright.

* “Albert Square” has Joe Jack singing about a fictional jerk again.  Is filler.

** “Astral Dad” has Joe Jack singing about a guy who can’t communicate with his family – locked in? catatonic? persistent vegetative state?  He’s astral projecting to save the world, or maybe not.  Getting back to the spirit of folk, this is storytelling more than music, and says something about something.  I recognize the worth but don’t feel like I’ll be listening to it again.

** “We Have Always Lived In The Compound” references a Shirley Jackson story I’ve never read, and tells the story of being isolated in a cult with surprising pathos.  But it’s not music I want to listen to again.

*** “God Wrote Cum Junkie” proposes that “Cum Junkie” was merely performed by The Genitorturers, following divine inspiration.  Like the way people say god wrote the bible, while acknowledging there were human hands on it.  It’s growing on me.

Garbage

– “The New York Guide To Art” ends the album with a f’art, Rodney complaining about art scene people being pretentious, dishonest nepo babies, whatever whatever.  I don’t know, maybe it’s true.  I never more than touched the outer periphery of an art scene myself.  I do know a lot of people who hate postmodern art are coming from a nazi-flavored point of view, so I look askance on it.  Askance, I tell you.

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Quaker City Quiet Pills was from last year!  The Dead Milkmen don’t have the discipline of building to a studio producer’s vision anymore, and maybe the albums are a little weaker for it.  Certainly the production isn’t always great.  But are they creatively vital, as little old men?  Hell yes.  I dig it.

So at the end of it all, what do I have to say?  Punk rock was often a good time, but the fundamental punk trait is the Sneer.  It’s disgust, which is also the underlying emotion driving fascism.  The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.  But was that ever the aim?  Punk is speaking to the shituation, not doing anything to change it, because it fundamentally does not believe that change is possible.  (I think the people who coined “solarpunk” were getting pretty far afield of what The Sex Pistols created.)  Resistance is vandalism, not something that can ever achieve an end beyond idle destruction.  That’s what the punk in cyberpunk truly means, and we are living the cyberpunk era of human history now – hence all the illegal street racing and deaths of despair.

That is to say The Dead Milkmen are not here to change the world, just to have a bitter laugh at the flaming descent.  Despite that, they have a streak of genuine affection for humanity, for outsiders and losers.  It’s a bad party, enjoy what you can – especially the company of those you love.  Sometimes they were, and perhaps still are, colossal assholes.  I’ll just deal with it.  Like feeling inspired by the political fury and righteous jams of vicious wife-beating PCP freak James Brown, one should take the good with the bad, within their own tolerances, or just lose out on an awful lot, in this deeply flawed world.

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Yankee Doodle Fvck the USA

I’ve mentioned my pants before, in an article that was no doubt much more entertaining than this one will be.  When I was a wee child I got some 4th of July themed underwear, which meant I was wearing 4th of July themed underwear for as much of the year as they continued to fit my growing ass.  I remember little snare drums like you’d see in front of a juvenile revolutionary war reenactor, betsy ross flags, fireworks.  Something in this imagery interested me enough to remain now as a sliver of a memory.  I found out about “Yankee Doodle Dandy” and other patriotic hokum, and thought this was all in good fun.  Yay, freedom!  My country ’tis of-

I don’t remember when, specifically, I started to get the facts.  While history classes tended to stop before Vietnam, sometimes the textbook itself would have a section we just magically never got around to, and maybe out of boredom I read ahead.  Sometimes I’d just happen to be around while a movie about Vietnam was playing.  War is the impossibility of reason something something.  Maybe it was the inevitable question raised by the parts of history they didn’t manage to skip – what actually was wrong with white people that slavery and Jim Crow were things?  The Trail of Tears?  The Japanese Internment?  Seriously, white people?

4th of July underwear on my baby ass, made me feel some type of way.  America the beautiful.  Three cheers for-

Like a More Edgy Star Trek or Something

My husband had a dream he was watching a TV show (or was it a youtube let’s play of a Deus Ex -era video game?) in a future setting, where these people were preparing to go out for a trek, if you will, among the stars.  The narrator / main character had a bad Sean Connery accent.  R&R came first, and in lieu of sex, people got into virtual reality machines that let them live out their ultimate fetishes, which were weird.  One spacefleet lady was riding a motorcycle with little man heads on the handlebars, and when she cranked them, the man heads vomited.

That’s how you’ll know that you are ridden, virtual motorcycle space man heads.  You’ll feel the burn in your throat.

Personally I used to have Star Trek: The Next Generation dreams all the time, where I could have been any given cast member, or just third person observing their adventures.  I think because of Reading Rainbow, Levar Burton’s character hit different for children, and became more memorable.  Also felt some type of way about Data and Counselor Troi and Cap’m Picard.  If I was a polyficcer that would be the four I’d put together.  Maybe Dr. Crusher could watch and … that’s just disrespectful.  They all did a very good job; I’ll leave it at that.

Maybe my husband and I were the space man heads, and Dr. Crusher was on the bike.  It’s what I deserve, tho surely my husband is an innocent man in all of this.  Clemency!

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