A divine message undoubtedly intended for the benefit of those deluded little Islanders and yet obliviously discarded by the same sense of Divine Right.
And merciful as ever to their innocence and ignorance He sent them a messenger of the standing they would appreciate.
And He did so name himself Prince but then they found a King so he in all his benevolence renamed Himself ” ” for He is that He is. And they in all their pitiful buffoonery did so reassign Him as Symbol
But onward he continued “The Beautiful Ones!!” He cried..”They always smash the picture!”.He turned to Andy..”Each and always…everytime.”
And did they listen.Did they heed the warning.Did they move on to a different Promised Land.Pastures New.Maybe curling?Or indoor bowls…..Or darts….?
NO.They blamed him from being a Scot and prepared to send another…
Higgs the Boson Bartender tidies up afterwards,he’s kinda pissed and pissed off keeping the joint together for 15 billion years without anyone even noticing he’s there.it ain’t easy but better him than some rookie he thinks.He wipes the bar,pulls down his flat cap,sweeps up and closes the door behind him.” Im through with Prince and Maraiah and all that jazz,next time I’m doin Ugly and I’m talkin red raw guts.Get Chuck on the phone…
Left battered.Unprotected.Trapped by imposing walls and a furtively remorseless sea,exposed and decaying.A ruin enshrined within the rusty remnants of a former glory.Abused and dilapidated.Foundations evaporated.
But still a beautiful relic.
We all go there for a piece of her past,to breathe her air and hear her gasping then abandon her in the present as the tides rise.
The goofiest,looniest,out there-ist,nerdiest,madhouse party in somebody’s garage that ive ever wished i could have been to.Out david bowie-ing Ziggy Stardust by a good stellar centipede.
going absolutely nutty in sleepy town in athens,georgia.Bored kids killing boredom.Like a million sleepy american kids in the 70s.Out and in,so unhip they stumbled into coolness.
Recklessly amateur,visceral,innocent and kooky.
Kids jamming and partying,talking total crap,all hot air and raw friction.And sticking two fingers up their nose at anyone who wants to be a lame da-ag.Living their youth forever in a video and capturing the essence of that carefree and willful teenage abandon that only a few actually get to remember like this.
The B-52s were an unprecedented and infectious sound.playfully,effortlessly and unknowingly eluding any attempt to be pigeon holed.
Maybe reactionary to the austerity and seriousness of the times this was a form of letting off steam in the best possible way.with your buddies making music you can have a ball to.Defying any analysis beyond a shrug and “hey what the hell.it sounds cool!”
Bit like the defiant spirit of rave as a response to the recession of the 90s.Hard times seem to bolster the will of the powerless little people to not get downtrodden ,often emboldening their efforts to have the do-or-die party to end them all and to live forever in one night.And with the B-52s this party kept going for a good while until Ricky Wilson died of HIV.And the party stopped…for a while anyway.They sort of made a comeback.And Cosmic Thing did them justice.But probably they were a but older and a bit…sadder.Thats age for you.
Ricky Wilson’s input was singular to the B-52s rawness.His weirdly tuned,split 4 string guitar chords playing the bass and the sonic bombs.His sound was eclectic and original and utterly punk in spirit.Without any training he just ended up with an inimitable sound,coupled with the psychedelic keyboards,baby harmonies and fred schneiders camp and cowbells.this wasnt music for the college football players….
And listening to it now there is a sense of something very distant,a sense that there was a time not too long ago when isolation and even boredom might be able to throw up a totally peerless gem like a sudden brainwave.and when it worked it had that fresh,untampered,unedited feel of something coming straight from a little hometown in america all the way to a little town not all that different near you,wherever you may be.Telling you its ok to be small.Hell,its cool.
Something which now would be completely camouflaged by the sheer weight of voices all shouting equally loudly for attention in the modern age of global interconnectivity.Where we are all deluded self flattering heroes.
This sounds like a time when something could seem much more personal.For you,me and everyone else who isnt the golden boy or girl.
Before emotions became an item for mass consumption and dissemination.
Here was a load of random goofball ravings that could actually tap into your guts better than any exhaustive analytically profiled calculations of iTunes or Facebook.
That random (X) that makes us human.Witness the madhouse…
The Lotka-Volterra equations’ curbs on population growth didnt consider treating a population as intrinsically composed of its own predator and prey subpopulations.
Hence the impossibility of mathematically modelling humans with self belief systems borne out of nano-intricacy.How can you model when predator and prey look the same?
The perception of worldwide crises is proof of the stability of the human population.Isnt a real crisis one that threatens mass extinction not mass destruction?Mass destruction and crises are just functions of the success of
a species just like resistance that is only significant as a function of high velocity:you only feel it cuz youre moving in the first place.So maybe predator/prey is another example of a man made oversimplification of a model in the quest to satisfy man’s pattern recognition instincts.And maybe the model just needs more complexity before it can convincingly tell us what we would rather hear.
And in comes Chaos Theory conceding the prospect of ever accounting for all the numerous confounding factors in the model but nevertheless through its political undertones trying to comfort us with the perception of predictability by mathematically modelling simulated unpredictablility and suggesting that all the complexity resolves itself into only a set number of predictably unpredictable responses.
Like the heterogeneity of a billion different disease states all ultimately leading to a messy but anticipatable and homogeneous multi organ failure.
So its about whose opinion you seek.But from a longer term and sufficiently over arching point of view the system could be seen to be ticking along fine and maybe the human race is not plummeting towards any catastrophe.And maybe you just have to think bigger. Whether you find that comforting or not depends on what you think about Spinoza’s take on life.
But the machine is still Leviathan and our individual philosophies all suffer from pre programmed obsession with minutiae.Indeed that obsession is the driver and the brake.
But that gets you a vehicle that can move safely as a whole even if the parts need replacing now and then.Passengers or drivers on Spaceship Earth?
Cold,heartless,inhumane nature directing the traffic without any map.
But the same Nature that either as some quirk or form of natural progress in evolution has now created this capacity for empathy and moral judgement.To what end?
So the word crisis can be misconstrued depending on your point of view.And maybe it is the very subjective relativism of the perception between different individuals itself that might be intrinsic to the engine of society in that the very combination of different equally valid and strongly upheld viewpoints are the motivational drivers that result in a push and pull system of checks and balances and that the definition of pro active and passive contributors to this society is a misinterpretation.
And maybe stability inevitably has turbulent borders where the the motor of crises run in perpetuality be that on the edge of an expanding cosmos or of the Roman,British,Communist and other imperial powers of history.
If you stop the pressure to expand you shrink so hands have to get dirty in the name of equilibrium and that is how it is.
And it is not to denigrate those with the Naturally naive conviction of being able to able to understand and actively manipulate the system for the self (eg the financial speculators) or for others (eg the politicians) nor is it to undermine those who Nturally feel they have no control and choose a laissez faire passivity because both of these are part of a larger system of Natural order beyond the capacity of individuals to change although the necessarily apparent choice to be a do-er or not is where the whole illusory concept of being able to overcome predestiny through free will comes in maintaining that drive to strive and ultimately keeping that Euclidean mirage of microcosmic flatspace steadiness in a curved warped bubble of space time reality.
When all your actions are confined to timespans of a human life the outcomes are in fact random but it is the ego continuing to believe in its own immortality that is the necessary delusion
When action has been undertaken and perceived to have succeeded for the common good it has a touching innocence to it.And when its done in the name of selfishness then it is grotesquely self flattering.Both of these are true feedback loops but not of the linear historically modelled type.
The real feedbacks might be more analagous to the new ideas of a multi looped haemostatic mechanism that is far mor effective in vivo than the linearly feedbacked coagulation cascades modelled for decades previously that ought to reduce us to an exsanguinated heap far more often than actually observed.
And what does writing this prove or change?
Well like the content itself and in fact any situation at all.There is one law that seems to be universal.Faced with extreme alternative arguments the truth is always the fuzzy grey bit in between that you just can’t pin down. Some will agree.Some will disagree.Some will find solace…hopefully.Some will be shocked or disheartened.Some will say this is depressing.Some will say it is enlightening.Obvious.Pointless.Self indulgent.Insightful.All and none of those things.
The capacity to be temperate in the good times gives the capacity to be temperate in the bad.And the rest is logic.
And all things that are written and their supposed self certainty suffer from the same inbuilt shortsightedness as this blog and are just consequences of the time, place and personal circumstances they were written in.So history is the judge.But historians will always be partial and there is no true reference point.
So this is my personal and probably passive antidote to being faced with alarmist headlines left,right and centre and I hope it works without taking away my humanity:
It doesnt matter that everyones pulling the oars in different directions cuz when youre faced with the onslaught of an endless diamond sea all thats needed is to stay afloat.
The city sleeps dreamlessly with her eyes wide open and the ephemeral ghosts emerge roaming their brownian journeys camouflaged in merciless shards of rain.Symbiotically leeching from her underbelly for their share of her desecrated soul because everything is fair game when the street lights ignite to cry their silent screams through another vacuous eternity of sacrifice.
Feel her heart beat slowing under the soles of those staggering broken shoes.Bleeding sewage on the streets.The sickly sweet odour of shattered broken coloured glass on the crossroads and the freshly stagnant gutter fumes leaking from her punctured insides.
And there she finds her salvation.
Musically Tangential Guerrillas with Wordprocessors