Pandering to the masses once again, who arrive looking for Jeri Kehn Thompson images, here are a few more. As a bonus, you can also catch a glimpse of her in the video below, where Jeri Kehn and her two children make a cameo appearance in a video Fred Thompson created for a right to life conference:
Jeri Ken Thompson and the Senator sometime, somewhere...
This is decidedly neither Jeri Kehn Thompson, nor any of the power brokers, singers, starlets, or businesswomen former Senator Thompson has dated.
We have no evidence that this swine was not an object of the Senator's attentions. Legend says that when Lyndon Johnson ran for Congress, he wanted to spread rumors that his opponent was a pig-f***er. Johnson's campaign manager said, "Lyndon, you know he doesn't do that!" Johnson replied, "I know. I just want to make him deny it."
My Uncle and my mother's twin brother Bill Jones, died Monday afternoon. He suffered a major stroke some years ago, and had been in a nursing home for years. We visited him every week or two ever since. Last Saturday, when we visited to celebrate their birthday 84 years ago, he was still able to make a joke and extracted a promise from us to return soon, and "bring the keys to my car!"
Bill and Betty, August 18, 2007 - click to enlarge
Jack Kerouac's On The Road was published nearly fifty years ago (on September 5). It is still taught in college, and it has spoken to several generations of readers now as well as being one of the seminal texts of both the 60's counterculture and the 50's beat subculture.
I devoured this book when I was in high school, and many times afterwards. It led me to the poetry of Allen Ginsberg (who we bumped into off and on in our NYC days), and Lawrence Ferlinghetti (the last man standing among the beats), Gregory Corso, William Burroughs, Diane DiPrima, John Clellon Holmes, Lew Welch, Phillip Whalen, Gary Snyder, and, of course, Neal Cassady, and the next generation of Ken Kesey, Jean Shepherd, Ed Sanders, Jim Carroll, and others.
The hero of some of Jack's novels, Neal Cassady, was a link between the beats and the next generation; he "starred" in several of Kerouac's novels, but also went on to pilot the bus Furthur for Ken Kesey and his band of Merry Pranksters (detailed in Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-aid Acid Test), as well as rap as a performer at the infamous Acid Tests. [Note: I use the word rap here as it was used in the 60's, meaning to speak in an extended improvisatory mode]. What many of us learned from the book was that you could write about America and not necessarily have to wear the straightjacket of our European antecedents. And that you could write a book patterned on the actual America around us. . .a book that found the rhythms of the road, and detailed what we now know were just the beginnings of being connected. They connected by routes and highways; we have found new, but not better ways to make that connection.
Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady (a/k/a Dean Moriarty)
What I have enjoyed about this 50th anniversary is reading the critical acclaim for Kerouac, and in particular for On The Road. The New York Times fell all over itself this weekend, detailing Kerouac's enormous cultural influence, but also not ignoring his impact on literature. His influence on rock and roll (interestingly, he wasn't a fan) has been enormous. In many ways, Jack Kerouac was the first modern "indy" writer (I would have to put William Blake and Walt Whitman as the first). All these years later, On The Road still sells 100,000 copies a year (although I suspect it will outstrip that this year).
My favorite works from Kerouac, the beats, their disciples and offshoots:
Kerouac: On The Road, Lonesome Traveler, Visions of Neal, Scattered Poems, Book of Dreams, Big Sur, Maggie Cassidy Neal Cassady: The First Third (memoir), Selected Letters Allen Ginsberg: Planet News, Howl Lawrence Ferlinghetti: All the poetry Phillip Whalen: On Bear's Head William Burroughs: Naked Lunch, Junky, Exterminator, The Yage Letters, Cities of the Red Night, The Place of Dead Roads, The Burroughs File, The Adding Machine Hunter S. Thompson: The Gonzo Papers, Volumes 1,2,3, The curse of Lono, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, The Rum Diaries, The Hells Angels Lew Welch: Ring of Bone Ed Sanders: The Family, Tales of Beatnik Glory, 1968: A History in verse, Love and Fame in New York Diane DiPrima: Memoirs of a Beatnik , Pieces of a song, Loba, Denise Levertov: Selected Poems ---o0o---
Ezra Pound, friend and supporter of Hemingway, James Joyce, T.S. Eliot, William Carlos Williams, e.e. cummings, and many more, wrote an incredibly beautiful, maddeningly convoluted, tantalizingly allusive, and frustratingly obscure poem over the course of his lifetime. The final Canto was the shortest in the entire book, undoubtedly the most accessible and was published posthumously in the collected edition of the work:
______________________________
Notes for Canto CXX by Ezra Pound
I have tried to write Paradise
Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise.
Let the Gods forgive what I have made Let those I love try to forgive what I have made. ______________________________
A decent summing up of Ezra Pound's life, and The Cantos (although skipping his conviction and incarceration for treason following World War II):
From Project Muse: "No major work of modernist literature reveals so intensely conflicted a relation to the public, simultaneously spurning and courting it, as Ezra Pound's Cantos. At the age of twenty, when he was captivated by the exclusionary poetics of the coterie, Pound nonetheless declared his ambition to write a "forty-year epic," a poem, he would claim later, "containing history"--a people's history, "the tale of the tribe." As the poem evolved over the last fifty-five years of Pound's life, however, it grew ever more erudite, ever more removed from its public aspirations, until it confronted even the most devoted scholars with a mass of obscure references, cryptic "facts," and fractured narratives. As Pound himself lamented in 1919, only two years after the first three cantos had appeared in Poetry: "I suspect my 'Cantos' are getting too too too abstruse and obscure for human consumption." Despite moments of assurance and bravado, this suspicion would haunt Pound increasingly throughout his career." ---o0o---
The LORD called Jonah out one day To head to Nineveh where "wickedness is on the rise" Instead of going Jonah hit the bricks
And sailed to Tarshish and hoped the LORD Wouldn't notice his insubordination But the LORD sent down a three alarm
Blast of a mighty wind that sucked up Everything in its path like a King-hell vacuum And left behind mud rubble and ashes
And roiled a tempest in the sea So the ship groaned and creaked Tossed to the top of waves and into the trough
Parts of the boat broke off The mariners were sorely spooked And prayed to their gods
They hurled cargo and ballast over the side So they wouldn't have to fight the boat itself Jonah was hiding in a closet
And was sleeping when the captain found him What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise and call upon thy God, if you have one
So God will think kindly and we might not perish The sailors said let us cast lots so that we know Who did what to bring this evil down around our heads
And when they cast lots the lot fell upon Jonah Tell us they asked why this evil has befallen us? Who are you what do you do?
And from what people do you hail? Jonah said I am a Hebrew and I fear the LORD Who made the sea and the land And the men were petrified now and said What have you done? They knew he had scampered off
Ducking He who cannot be ducked What do we do for you to calm the sea for us? He said toss me into the water
And the sea will be calmed This typhoon is here because of me The men rowed like madmen to land the boat
But the sea fought back We beseech you LORD save us Why should we go down with the ship
Because Jonah burned you? They grabbed Jonah and hucked him into the sea The wind stopped and the water stilled
Until it was as calm as a painted boat On a painted sea A great big fish breached the calm waterline
And sucked Jonah into its maw And Jonah was in the belly of the beast Three days and nights and prayed to God from the belly
You cast me deep in the midst of the seas And the water flooded around me And the billows and Your waves passed over me
My soul fainted within me and I remembered you LORD I sent out prayers to you The LORD sent down some celestial Ipecac
And the great big fish vomited Jonah And he fell upon a sandy beach And the LORD said one more time
Go to Nineveh that great city And testify like I told you Jonah trudged three days to Ninevah
And became the town crier In forty days he said Nineveh shall be overthrown So the people of Nineveh took the LORD at his word
From the lowest to the highest They fasted and put on sackcloth And tried to make amends
The king of Nineveh rose from his throne Put on sackcloth quit shaving and and sat in ashes And he said let neither man nor beast herd nor flock
Taste anything not food or water Let man and beast be covered with sackcloth And cry mightily unto God
And turn away from evil In hopes God will turn away from his fierce anger And God saw they turned from their evil ways
And God Himself repented of the evil He said he would do unto them But it displeased Jonah and he was very angry
When I fled to Tarshish I thought you a gracious God O LORD take my life from me For it is better for me to die than to live
The LORD said doest thou well to be angry? Jonah left the city and sat on the east side of the city And built a hut so he could see what would become of the city.
The LORD God prepared a gourd And sent it over Jonah like a shadow to deliver him from grief And Jonah was glad for the gourd's presence
But the next morning the LORD smote the gourd and it withered And when the sun did arise God called up an east wind And the sun beat upon the head of Jonah
And he fainted and wished to die and said It is better for me to die than to live. And God said to Jonah are you angry about the gourd?
You have pity on the gourd which you did not make or labor for and the gourd grew in a night And perished in a night
And should not I spare the great city Nineveh, Where there are 120,000 people That cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand ---o0o---
Frank Zappa plays a drug dealer in this episode of Miami Vice. He didn't want to play the part until he learned his son Dweezil loved the show. Ironically, Frank Zappa, as you may know, was violently anti-drug. As far as I know he never even smoked a joint in his entire life. He was a coffee and cigarette guy.
OK, he's not the best thespian I've ever seen, but as Frank himself would tell you, this video clip furnishes an interesting chunk of conceptual continuity...
In the "old days," meaning, say, the 50's and early 60's, when you were the millionth customer of a store, bells wound ring, lights would flash, and a B-list celebrity would come out and hand you a boodle of gifts, cash, and, if you were lucky, a car. Well, this isn't really like that. As I was about to post this digital painting of Condy Rice and Dubyah, the Blogger editor showed it would be the 2,000th posting here. Now, I'm not equating persistence with quality, or doggedness with enterainment, but on the other hand, I didn't want to let this small milestone go unmarked. . .
Even the relief team is leaving. . .just this week Tony Snow said he would be leaving the White House, close on the heels of Karl Rove. You can't blame Snow--he gave up a lot to catch flak for the Administration. It's down to Cheney-Rice-Bush and they've become the living dead. . .zombies shuffling mindlessly through their old jobs, sustained by the vicarious blood they are letting in Iraq and Afghanistan...
ABC News' Rick Klein Reports: "Former Sen. John Edwards on Friday fired the latest round in his ongoing verbal feud with Ann Coulter, calling her a "she-devil" at a public event before quickly adding that he shouldn't engage in name-calling.
Democratic Presidential Candidate Edwards was 0n a rant against the right-wing media and reminded a crowd in Burlington, Iowa, that his wife called Coulter out earlier this summer.
"We know these people. We know their game plan. They're going to attack us personally," former Senator Edwards said. "They attacked Elizabeth personally, because she stood up to that she-devil Ann Coulter. … I should not have name-called. But the truth is -- forget the names -- people like Ann Coulter, they engage in hateful language."
In June, on ABC's Good Morning America, Coulter said she had learned her lesson after being attacked and villified for suggesting that Edwards was a "faggot." "If I'm gonna say anything about John Edwards in the future, I'll just wish he had been killed in a terrorist assassination plot," Coulter said.
Edwards' wife, Elizabeth, later called in to call in to Chris Matthew's Hardball and challenged Coulter directly. "I want to use the opportunity … to ask her politely to stop the personal attacks," Mrs. Edwards said. Coulter was flummoxed and did a few Jackie Gleason-style homina hominas before sputtering out altogether. . .
Some recent Ann Coulter posts on All This Is That:"
A live version of VU's Sweet Jane, from the 1993 tour. The best part of this vid?: Mo Tucker and her primeval./knucklehead/genius drumming. . .
Sweet Jane
Standing on the corner, Suitcase in my hand Jack is in his corset, and jane is her vest, And me Im in a rocknroll band hah! Ridin in a stutz bear cat, jim You know, those were different times! Oh, all the poets they studied rules of verse And those ladies, they rolled their eyes
Ill tell you something Jack, he is a banker And jane, she is a clerk Both of them save their monies, ha And when, when they come home from work Oh, sittin down by the fire, oh! The radio does play The classical music there, jim The march of the wooden soldiers All you protest kids You can hear jack say, get ready, ah
Sweet jane! come on baby! sweet jane! oh-oh-a! sweet jane!
Some people, they like to go out dancing And other peoples, they have to work, just watch me now! And theres even some evil mothers Well theyre gonna tell you that everything is just dirt Yknow that, women, never really faint And that villains always blink their eyes, woo! And that, yknow, children are the only ones who blush! And that, life is just to die! And, everyone who ever had a heart They wouldnt turn around and break it And anyone who ever played a part Oh wouldnt turn around and hate it!
Sweet jane! whoa-oh-oh! sweet jane! sweet jane!
Heavenly wine and roses Seems to whisper to her when he smiles Heavenly wine and roses Seems to whisper to her when she smiles La lala lala la, la lala lala la Sweet jane Sweet jane Sweet jane ---o0o---
This is a fan video - but a decent one. The Doors perform their studio version of L.A. Woman. This is from their last album, when most people feel like Morrison had blown out his voice. It is a late, great, and final flowering of the band. Jim would shortly move to Paris and die. And the Doors would spend the next 30 years attempting to reanimate the corpse. You may already know this, but Mr. Mojo Risin' from the chorus is an anagram for Jim Morrison.
L.A.Woman by The Doors
Well, I just got into town about an hour ago Took a look around, see which way the wind blow Where the little girls in their hollywood bungalows Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light Or just another lost angel...city of night City of night, city of night, city of night, woo, cmon L.a. woman, l.a. woman L.a. woman sunday afternoon x3 Drive through your suburbs Into your blues, into your blues, yeah Into your blue-blue blues Into your blues, ohh, yeah I see your hair is burnin Hills are filled with fire If they say I never loved you You know they are a liar Drivin down your freeways Midnight alleys roam Cops in cars, the topless bars Never saw a woman... So alone, so alone x2 Motel money murder madness Lets change the mood from glad to sadness Mr. mojo risin, mr. mojo risin x2 Got to keep on risin Mr. mojo risin, mr. mojo risin Mojo risin, gotta mojo risin Mr. mojo risin, gotta keep on risin Risin, risin Gone risin, risin Im gone risin, risin I gotta risin, risin Well, risin, risin I gotta, wooo, yeah, risin Woah, ohh yeah Well, I just got into town about an hour ago Took a look around, see which way the wind blow Where the little girls in their hollywood bungalows Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light Or just another lost angel...city of night City of night, city of night, city of night, woah, cmon L.a. woman, l.a. woman, l.a. woman, your my woman Little l.a. woman, little l.a. woman L.a. l.a. woman woman, l.a. woman cmon
My son Del pointed this video out to me last night, hoping I wasn't quite as creepy a boss as the one on the vid. This is very funny stuff, and hey seem to have dozens more on You Tube...
And we are all, in fact, The Walrus. At this juncture in rock music history, everyone was influencing everyone. It gets pretty circuitous here. . .not all that long before this, Bob Dylan hooked up with The Beatles in London and introduced them to marijuana. But more importantly, he influenced John Lennon with his new work. He was no longer a folkie, but a singer-songwriter creating imagistic, and often, surrealistic, and even Da-da-istic lyrics, densely packed with images, allusions, humor, and callbacks to other musics, past and present.
I am in the minority, preferring The Beatles Magical Mystery Tour over their 8th album, Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. I'm not denying the massive critical and popular acclaim the album achieved. It was innovative, from its structure to the recording techniques to the fantastic cover collage covering a broad range of pop culture heroes and villains. Sgt. Pepper's influence was massive and almost monolithic, and it actually changed the way other musicians did business.
One of the inspirations for Sergeant Pepper was The Beach Boys' masterpiece Pet Sounds. Interestingly, Pet Sounds was inspired by an earlier Beatles' album, Rubber Soul. When Wilson heard that album, he launched into making an album that cohered the same way as Rubber Soul.
Brian Wilson said about Rubber Soul:"I really wasn't quite ready for the unity. It felt like it all belonged together. Rubber Soul was a collection of songs ... that somehow went together like no album ever made before, and I was very impressed. I said, "That's it. I really am challenged to do a great album."
When McCartney and Lennon heard Pet Sounds, they were stunned. Paul McCartney said: “ It was Pet Sounds that blew me out of the water. I love the album so much. I've just bought my kids each a copy of it for their education in life ... I figure no one is educated musically 'til they've heard that album ... I love the orchestra, the arrangements ... it may be going overboard to say it's the classic of the century ... but to me, it certainly is a total, classic record that is unbeatable in many ways ... I've often played Pet Sounds and cried. I played it to John [Lennon] so much that it would be difficult for him to escape the influence ... it was the record of the time. The thing that really made me sit up and take notice was the bass lines ... and also, putting melodies in the bass line. That I think was probably the big influence that set me thinking when we recorded Pepper, it set me off on a period I had then for a couple of years of nearly always writing quite melodic bass lines. "God Only Knows" is a big favourite of mine ... very emotional, always a bit of a choker for me, that one. On "You Still Believe in Me", I love that melody - that kills me ... that's my favourite, I think ... it's so beautiful right at the end ... comes surging back in these multi-coloured harmonies ... sends shivers up my spine. ” Eric Clapton said that "I consider Pet Sounds to be one of the greatest pop LPs to ever be released. It encompasses everything that's ever knocked me out and rolled it all into one."
Elton John thinks that "Pet Sounds is a landmark album. For me to say that I was enthralled would be an understatement. I had never heard such magical sounds, so amazingly recorded. It undoubtedly changed the way that I, and countless others, approached recording. It is a timeless and amazing recording of incredible genius and beauty."
Beatles producer George Martin said that that "Without Pet Sounds, Sgt. Pepper wouldn't have happened... Pepper was an attempt to equal Pet Sounds." After Sgt. Pepper was released, Wilson was so despondent that he went to bed for months. Uh no, he went to bed for years. But that's a story for another day.
Once again, I have taken an ostensibly simple subject--a video of The Beatles I Am The Walrus--and turned it into a bramble of shredded wheat. This is an example of music influencing music influencing more music. Nonetheless, as great as Sgt. Pepper is, I happen to like the follow on album more, while in no way detracting from Sgt. Pepper's monolithic and lasting influence (likewise for Pet Sounds).
The Walrus by John Lennon and Paul McCartney
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together. See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly. I'm crying.
Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come. Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday. MAN, you been a naughty boy, and let your face grow long. I am the eggman, they are the eggmen, I am the walrus, coo coo c'choo
Mister City P'liceman sitting Pretty little policemen in a row. See how they fly like Lucy in the Sky, see how they run. I'm crying. I'm cry------------ing, I'm crying. I'm cry------------ing.
Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye. Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess, Boy, you been a naughty girl and let your Knickers down. I am the eggman, they are the eggmen, I am the walrus, coo coo c'choo
Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun. If the sun don't come, you get a tan From standing in the English rain. I am the eggman, they are the eggmen, I am the walrus, coo coo c'choo coo coo c'choo
Expert texpert choking smokers, Don't you think the joker laughs at you? (ho ho ho, he, he he, ha, ha, ha) See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide. I'm crying.
Semolina Pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower. Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna. Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe. I am the eggman, they are the eggmen, I am the walrus, coo coo c'choo, coo coo coo c'choo, coo coo c'choo, c'choo coo c'choo c'choo (rhythmical speaking along with juba's). Juba juba juba, juba, juba, juba, juba, juba, juba juba. Juba juba..... (speaking)
--Repeat (eventually juba's will stop) and fade until end.-- during the fade out background vocals: [Simultaneously:] 'Everybody smokes pot' and 'Oompa, oompa, stick it up your joompa' [jumper] ---o0o--- \
Jeri Kehn
