The punk rock advent calendar (free)

By Mona Goldwater, Christmas Editor

This advent calendar is much like a regular advent calendar. You open a window and out pops a treat. Open the window, and instead of getting a piece of waxy milk chocolate, you get to download a free Christmas song. Of course, it's a mixed bag, but there are some gems in there. Check out the website here.

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Faces No. 342 - The faculty meeting

By Jack Brummet

[pencil and sharpie on 24"x24" surplus muslin drawcloth]

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All This Is That grants their 11th halo to Joe Scarborough

By Pablo Fanque, National Affairs Editor

I've always liked Joe Scarborough.  We agree on virtually no political issues.  But last night, he did the big turnabout, as Lord Buckley would say.  This four-term, conservative congressman turned pundit (and host of Morning Joe, one of the best poltical shows on television), who was rated 100% by the NRA, broke ranks.   We're sending an All This Is That Halo to Joe:

Today, we as a nation grieve. Today, we as a people feel helpless. Helpless to stop these random acts of violence that seem to be getting less random by the day.

 

It may the geographic proximity of Newtown to my hometown, or the fact my children's ages average those of the 20 young children tragically killed on Friday, or the fact my second son has Aspergers, or the fact that too many other facts associated with Friday's nightmare strike so close to home. that for me, there is no escaping the horrors visited upon the children and teachers of Sandy Hook.

 

The events that occurred in a short, violent outburst on Friday, December 14, 2012, were so evil that no words that I know of have yet been invented to sufficiently describe the horror experienced by 20 precious first grade students, their heroic principal, their anguished parents or the shocked New England town that will never be the same.

 

There is no way to capture the final moments of these children's short lives or the loss and helplessness their parents must feel today. There is nothing they can do, there is nothing any of us can do, to ease their pain this morning, or to cause these little children to run back into the loving arms of their family members this Christmas season.

 

Soon, we will watch the burials of these babies. We will hold up their parents in prayer. And we will hold our own children tighter as we thank God every afternoon watching them walk off their school bus and into our arms.

 

But every American must know - from this day forward -  that nothing can ever be the same again.

 

We have said this before: after Columbine, after Arizona, after Aurora, after so many other numbing hours of murder and of massacre.

 

But let this be out true landmark; let Newtown be the hour after which, in the words of the New Testament, we did all we could to make all things new.

 

Politicians can no longer be allowed to defend the status quo. They must instead be forced to protect our children.

 

Parents can no longer take "No" for an answer from Washington when the topic turns to protecting children.

 

The violence we see spreading from shopping malls in Oregon, to movie theaters in Colorado, to college campuses in Virginia, to elementary schools in Connecticut, is being spawned by the toxic brew of a violent pop culture, a growing mental health crisis and the proliferation of combat-styled guns.

 

Though entrenched special interests will try to muddy the issues, the cause of these sickening mass shootings is no longer a mystery to common-sense Americans. And blessedly, there are more common-sense Americans than there are special interests, even if it doesn't always seem that way. Good luck to the gun lobbyist or Hollywood lawyer who tries to blunt the righteous anger of ten million parents by hiding behind a twisted reading of our Bill of Rights.

 

Our government rightly obsesses day and night over how to prevent the next 9/11 from being launched from a cave in Afghanistan or a training base in Yemen. But perhaps now is the time to begin obsessing over how to stop the next attack on a movie theater,  a shopping mall, a college campus or a first grade class.

 

The battle we now must fight, and the battle we must now win is for the safety and sanity of our children, and that is the war at home.

 

It's not all about guns, or all about violent movies and videogames. But we must no longer allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good. And we must not excuse total inaction by arguing that no single action can solve the problem and save our children.

 

I am a conservative Republican who received the NRA's highest ratings over 4 terms in Congress. I saw the debate over guns as a powerful, symbolic struggle between individual rights and government control. In the years after Waco and Ruby Ridge, the symbolism of that debate seemed even more powerful to my colleagues and me.

 

But the symbols of that ideological struggle have since been shattered by the harvest sown from violent, mind-numbing video games and gruesome Hollywood movies that dangerously desensitizes those who struggle with mental health challenges. Add military-styled weapons and high capacity magazines to that equation and tragedy can never be too far behind.

 

There is no easy ideological way forward. If it were only so simple as to blame Hollywood or the NRA, then our task could be completed in no time. But I come to you this morning with a heavy heart and no easy answers. Still, I have spent the past few days grasping for solutions and struggling for answers, while daring to question my long held beliefs on these subjects.

 

I have always taken a libertarian's approach to Hollywood's 1st Amendment rights and gun collectors' 2nd Amendment rights. I stood by those libertarian beliefs after Columbine, Aurora and Arizona. Those young men who slaughtered innocents were crazy, after all, and they would have found another way to kill their victims if their guns of choice were not available.

 

But last Friday a chilling thought crossed my mind as I saw the Times Square ticker over ABC spit out the news of yet another tragic shooting in yet another tortured town by yet another twisted son of that community.

 

How could it be that I knew within seconds of reading that scrolling headline that the shooter would be an isolated middle class white male who spent his days on his computer playing video games? How did I know that it was far more likely that he had a mental condition than a rational motive? And how did I know the end of this story before the real reporting even began?

 

I knew the ending of that story because I've seen it all too often before. I also knew that day that the ideologies of my past career were no longer relevant to the future that I want for my children.

 

Friday changed everything. It must change everything. We All must begin anew and demand that Washington's old way of doing business is no longer acceptable.

 

Entertainment moguls do not have an absolute right to glorify murder while spreading mayhem in young minds across America.

 

And our Bill of Rights does not guarantee gun manufacturers the absolute right to sell military-styled high-caliber semi-automatic combat assault rifles with high capacity magazines to whoever the hell they want.

 

It is time for Congress to put children before deadly dogmas. It's time for politicians to start focusing more on protecting our school yards than putting together their next fundraiser. And it's time Washington stops trying to win endless wars overseas and instead starts focusing on winning the war at home.

 

We have already given up too much ground across America. We have already ceded too many schoolyards and shopping malls, movie theaters and college campuses. We will give no more ground.

 

Abraham Lincoln once said of this great   and powerful nation. 

"From whence shall we expect the approach of danger? Shall some trans-Atlantic military giant step the earth and crush us at a blow? Never. All the armies of Europe and Asia.could not by force take a drink from the Ohio River or make a track on the Blue Ridge in the trial of a thousand years. No, if destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of free men we will live forever or die by suicide."

 

For the sake of my four children, I choose life. And I choose change. It is time to turn over the tables inside the temple, for the sake of our children and for the sake of this great nation that we love.

Copyright (C) 2012 by All This Is That. All This Is That contains copyrighted material the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. We make these materials available to advance the understanding of political, economic, literary, artistic, and social issues. In some cases we satirize, parody, or lampoon materials from other sources. We believe this constitutes a 'fair use' of copyrighted material as provided for by section 107 of the US Copyright Law. In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, the material on this site is distributed without profit for research, educational, and entertainment purposes. If you wish to use copyrighted material from this site for purposes of your own that go beyond 'fair use', please read and follow our Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 license and attribute the work to All This Is That, along with our URL (http://jackbrummet.blogspot.com).

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Scrooge, by Lord Buckley (both text and video)

By Jack Brummet

Since the first time I heard this piece was in California in 1985 [ed's note: I know it was '85, because I wrote the date I bought his "Hiporama of the classics" on the inside cover].

This is my favorite Christmas story of all time (it's all in the rendition, friends). Take ten and a half minutes to listen to this. You know how the story ends, but Lord Buckley makes that ending sing hosannahs to the heavens. The Lord (a title with which he annointed himself) is one of those writers and performers whose work is shot through with his love of all of us, high, low, and in between. . .



A Hip Christmas Carol
by Lord Buckley

"Yes, me, I'm Scrooge and I got all Marley's barley,
and I'm the baddest cat in all dis world.
I been studyin' all my life how to Scrooge people,
and I guarantee I done some fine work in dat direction.
"Cratchit!"

"Yes, sir."

"You busy?"

"I shorely is, sir."

"See dat you keep busy.
Don't want no danglin' wanglin' around here.
Keep everybody tight.
And tell dem two cats come in here want to get some money
I ain't givin' no money away.

"Dey messin' wit Scrooge.
I'm takin' it in. I ain't puttin' it out.
Issat clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, keep it clear. People comin' around here
wantin' my gold dat's all, tryin' to pry into my vault.
Every time I turn around somebody's tryin' to snap...

"Tell my nephew I don't want to have no dinner wid him
an' if he never comes in here again dat'll be too soon."

"I'll tell de cat."

"See dat ya do.

"I don't understand dese people who are after my gold.
I close up dis here place and den dey ...

"What, what? Yeah, let me tell you somethin else -
You think that you gonna get off Christmas day?"

"Well I was hopin', sir, dat you'd let me knock off just a little while
for Christmas Eve cause I want to go home and cool da goose."

"Well if you gonna get off Christmas Eve
you gonna have to work aaalllll day Christmas.
You hear me?"

"I hear ya, sir. I'm wid it."

"Well I guess I'll go on home here."

So Scrooge takes off and he cuts on down the street.
And the snow's blowin' and da winds is wooooooooin',
and Scrooge is goin' along in his loose soul
and his loose clothes and his hard cash box
and his big money mind goin' on in his wig
and he ding ding ding up da stairs
and he open his door and he gets inside
and he puts a double lock on da door
cause he a little bugged tonight.
He bein' sayin' "Humbug" so long, "Humbug dis," an' "Humbug dat,"
he done give himself a natural Humbug.
He's got da bug hummin' in him, see.
So he double-lock da door.

And he sit dere and all of a sudden
dere's an old bell layin' over dere in the corner
and da bell goes, "ding-ding-ding-ding"
and Scrooge say, "Whassat?"
Dang- dong. "Whassat?"
Bell started ringin' "DING DONG DOONG DOONG"
Pretty soon all da bells all over the house started ringin'
"Ding Ding Dang Dang Dong
Ring Dong Boom Boom, Ding dong,
Boom boom"

And he hear somethin'
like some chain cats are pullin'
all da chains from the chains of time
up the hill 'a strife ringing' and dinglin'
wid his whole head ringin' and dingin' wid dem chains.

And bloooop!

In come a cat, da wildest lookin' cat ya ever see in his life.
Real gone cat.
And Scrooge does a real wild take

"I know who dat stud is - dat's Marley!
I know dat's Marley!
What's he doin' here? Say, Marley?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Man, you sure chained up dere,
man, you got chainsville all over you dere!"

"Well, I put em on myself, dat's da way I lived it.
I chained myself. I hung myself up wid all dese chains, you know,
bein' parsimonious, ya understand what I mean?
I can't get 'em off now.
I been luggin' dese chains all over da country
for the past seven years."

"Dat's a long time.
What's you want wit me dere, Marley Marley?
cause I got your barley."

"I don't mess wid no barley no more.
I wish I'd given it all away when I had it
and I'm gonna tell you somethin' else, too,
I'm a spook, you know dat."

"You tellin' me. I know dat.
You a spook, man, an' I wanna get straight."

"I'm gonna tell you somethin else, too, Mr. Scroogie Scrooge,
Dere gonna be three more gas lightin' spooks comin' in to see you."

"Three more gas lightin' spooks.
Say, one spook's enough.
Can't I have 'em all at one time?"

"No. Dey comin' one at a time.
First one be eleven,
next one be twelve,
next one'll be one."

"Man, if I had known this..."

"Tell you what. You dig, Scrooge, it's what you puttin' down.
You been a real sorry cat all dis time.
You gonna be gassed now by dese spooks."

"Well, dey say if I gotta be gassed..
Ain't gonna cost me no money, is it?"

"Cost you more 'n dat, Scrooge."

"Dey ain't no more den money!"

"You find out."

Brrrrt.

And Marley split.

And old Scrooge is sittin' dere sweatin' and dinglin' danglin'.

And all of a sudden, man,
he hears some crazy wild kind of a thing goin' on.
He don't know just what it is and all of a sudden . . .

Boom

Here comes a great big fat spook,
look like takes a hundred and seventy wings
lift him off over da house top
and he's got de old beat up cat and spandly legs,
and strangly arms and pedicured eyes,
and a whole out of his skull wiggin' up a storm
and he looks at old Scrooge and he says...

Scrooge is standin' dere in the corner
he feel like a disrupted small disregarded
and unclaimed white mice midget-style,
he's sittin' over dere.

And dis spook say, "Come wid me
'cause I is The Ghost of da Christmas Past!"

And Scrooge say, "Do I hafta?"

Say, "You certainly do!"

And he got on the ghost's wing and - brrt - they took off.

And he's flyin' old Scrooge over da top of da mountain
da wind is blowin', da wind is partin' his way,
and he's lookin' down, and seein' all dese crazy scenes goin' on.

Zoom!

He goes over a few more miles
Takes him down to a sun-lit pasture.
And da sun-lit pasture's full of children,
and de're singin' and dancin' and lovin' and goin' and swingin'
and Scrooge say, "Look, look, look! Dat's me down dere!"

"Yeah, dat's you, dat's you."

"I look pretty good"

"Yeah but ya don't look good now,"
He say, "I wanna hip you gotta get yourself ?

Zoom!

He takes him over to another place
and he shows him a pretty little chick
got dimples, three dimples on each chin,
and she got three little dimpled children,
and the next little dimple on da way,
and dere's a real swingin' cat around there,
and it's a happy time,
looks like seventeen carnivals takin' off.

An' Scrooge look at dis chick and say,
"I remember dat chick. I could 'a married her once."

"Yeah, you coulda if you wasn't so tight wid your purse.
You all was thinkin' about yourself, dat's what happened."
Say, "Let me hip you further, Mister Scrooge,
Let me tell you one thing:
you better get everything straight that you wanna
and you better straighten up."

"An' take me home."

"Yeah, I will."

Brrrrm Boom

And he's home again.

So man, that was a shaker.

This whole thing, this whole thing is shakin' me up pretty bad.

He say, I want to tell you right now . . .

Boom!

Here comes another big spook

Ooooohhhh He's a wild lookin' spook.
He's a crazy lookin' spook.

He's a far-out spook, he's a gas-light spook.
He's got a gas light right on the top of his wig
goin' around like one of them dramatic ? pilot lights
in a light house and he's there gassin' up the whole scene.

He say "Come with me. I'm The Ghost of Christmas Present"

And Scrooge look around and sees
the joint is loaded with apples and bananas and oranges and,
and credalies and acralonchs and ripalips
all kinds of crazy wild grapes and crazy Chistmas scenes
and nuts and candy.

And he say, "Come wid me."

Brrrrrttt.

Done took off again,

He said "I am The Ghost of Christmas Present."
He say, "I'm gonna show you what's goin' on in dis world
and how to dig Christmas and how to all enjoy

And he took him up to a little old outcast.

And there sittin on a small beat-up rock
was two studs chompin' up on a can 'a beans singin',

"Merry Christmas widch you,
Merry Christmas widch you.
Merry Christmas to the whole world"

And so on and so forth.

And he showin' him the people jumpin' for joy,
see how the cats that ain't got nothin' got somethin' anyway,
and they're all jumpin' for joy singin' "Merry Christmas," and da bells is ringin'.

Now you get yourself straight and see how things is ....

So they fly over da Cratchit's place,
there little old Tiny Tim, He's sittin' over in the corner
crochetin' a little crazy scene,
fiddlin' around, ya know what I mean?
An carryin' on, see,
and they are all talkin' about this here goose,
and dey look down here and this little goose
about the size of a beat up retarded sparrow,
and everybody's ooohin' and aahhhin' all over dis goose,
and day sayin' when are we gonna spread it,
and Tiny Tim say, "God bless everyone,
and even up to and including Scroogy Scrooge.
God bless everyone!" That's what Tiny Tim say.

And old Scrooge got red-eyed.

Brrrrt .

Took 'im back again.
Sound like the whole side 'a the buildin' open up
and in come a long angular spook
seventeen gas lights and stove pipes
hung together with
jingle jangle bells all over
Scrooge takes a look at this cat,

Says, "Do I have to go with you?"

He says, "You certainly do, 'cause I'm The Ghost of Christmas Future."

He say, "Come wid me."

Say, "Where we goin'?"

"None 'o your business!"

He takes old Scrooge they cut off flyin' around
the moonlight is shinin' down.

Booom!

They're in the grave-yard.
Oooh a wild OOOOoooohhhh
crazy spooky graveyard
and Scrooge is walkin' around
and finally something stepped out at him
like he was struck with the force of his eye lids,
some sort of an electronic pitchfork,
and he reads on one of them billboards in that grave-yard,
it say, "Dis is Scrooge, the baddest cat that ever lived.
He don't have nothin' he ain't got nothin' and he ain't got nothin now."

Period

And Scrooge looked at it and . . .

They're going to another place,
and there's a cat say "You goin' to the funeral?"
and he say, "Not me, man, I wouldn't go near that cat, dead or alive.
They couldn't pay me to get near that cat."
Say, "What cat is that?"
And suddenly Scrooge is takin' in the coffin factory
and seeing all these coffins layin' around,
and see one coffin,
all the rest of 'em got flowers around
'n 'dis poor little coffin got nothin on it but just some pinewood boards
an' old Scrooge look up and over and he's lookin' at this and that
and look all away 'cause he knows who is in dat coffin.

Zooooommmm.

He's swings on back again and the ghost puts him down
and old Scrooge is shakin' and shiverin'
and he finally falls into a real wild, crazy miser's coma.
And he falls out for how long he don't know
when and he wakes up and
Mornin'!

Aaaaahh, the sun was shinin' on the glorious snow
and old Scrooge is feelin' so groovey 'n so wired
and he tip tip tip tip tip toes over to the window.
He open the window, see a little cat, he say, "Hey, boy."

"Yes, sir."

"You know that great big giant king-size bird
down in Doodley's window?"

"You mean the prize bird?"

"No," he say, "I mean that great big king-size bird."
Say, "Go get that bird. Here's a twenty."

He knocks a twenty on him. "Go get dat bird.
And here's ten more for a cab,
an here's five dollar for your sister,
and here's twenty-two-fifty for your uncle's new bicycle.
Tell anyone who wants anything, 'See Scrooge.'
I'm flyin' this here Christmas.
I want to see Cratchit swing out
with a great big swingin' happy dinner.
I'm wid it all da way!"

An' old Scrooge get dressed and he's walkin' down the street,
and Ding Dong, Ding Dong Ding, the bells is ringin'.
Scrooge got a big smile on his face,
and people he's seen for twenty years never said hello,sayin'
"Good morning, Mr. Scrooge."

"What you say, Baby?"

An' he carryin' on, carryin' on, happy as the day is long.
And he finally fell into old Bob Cratchit's place
and he's got Christmas toys and Christmas joys
and Christmas presents for everybody.

And they'd just opened the goose,
and then little Tiny Tim see him comin',
he say, "God bless Mr. Scrooge.
He done did the turn about.
He's the Lord's boy today."

And that's the story of Scrooge.
You can get wid it if you want to.
There's only one way straight to the Road of Love.
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R.I.P.

by Jack Brummet

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Faces No. 341 - Passengers

By Jack Brummet

[drawing on India Ink scratchboard 10x14"]

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Woodinville's Hollywood Tavern closing

by Jack Brummet, Woodinville Editor

The Hollywood Tavern (known in its early years as Mabel's), a Woodinville landmark since the '30s, is closing this week. The tavern has been slowly, and now, rapidly, surrounded by wineries, distilleries, restaurants, and breweries.  

The Hollywood feels like the old school taverns that thrived in Kent, Wash. when I was growing up. Many of them are now disappearing.   The neon sign out front says simply "Tavern".  The gravel parking lot occupies the spot where Mabel's house stood. The Tavern has pull-tabs, darts, a jukebox, and lots of beer company signs.  They have Budweiser on tap.  Nick and Kelly Uren have owned the Tavern for the last twenty years, and have maintained the history of the place. The interior is decorated with pictures of Mabel's before it was finished in 1927. 

The new owner (the founder of Skillet in Seattle) will be changing the tavern into an upscale burger and whiskey joint.

A receipt for Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and The Big Boppers final flight

By Jack Brummet

A receipt written out to The Big Bopper for his final flight with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens.  Of course, the plane went down that night. . .

It's probably an apocryphal story, but I've heard that Waylon Jennings actually fought The Big Bopper over which one of them would get on the plane.  That's one fight Waylon was probably happy to lose.  At least the next day. . .

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Santas that may scare the bejesus out of you

By Jack Brummet, Holidays Editor

Every year, ATIT posts a roundup of photos of twisted, scary, or just flat-ass bizarre Santa Clauses.  Here is our batch for 2012.

In the 1940's, Boris Karloff would dress as Santa and visit a hospital for 

disabled children in Baltimore.  This is Boris dressed up as Saint Nick.

Skel Santa 

Shining Santa w/ double bit axe

Stark Naked Santa

Schizo Icicle Santa

S&M Santa

Sot Santa

Slavic Santa

Scary Dwarf Santa

Maybe the scariest Santa of all. Is he human?

Seattle Streaker Santa

Ragpicker Santa

Bargain Basement Santa

Sittin' Santa

Ho ho ho

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Selected Office Types

By Jack Brummet and Mona Goldwater

Every office has a cast of various types.  These are a select list of office types that popped into our heads late last night. . .

The Tyrant

The Saboteur

The Control Freak

The Wallflower

The Space Cadet

The Bully

The Peddler

The Button Pusher

The Coaster

The Lifer

The Petty Bureaucrat

The Undercover Agent

The Success-phobe

The Empire Builder

The Putdown Artist

The office drunk

The secretary with a heart of gold.

The quiet guy nobody really knows

The girl who takes off her glasses and is beautiful

The dying salesman who shows us the beauty of life

The passionate but alcoholic technologist

The wistful and regretful guy in the stockroom

The bitter tech support engineer

The kooky but benign genius

The mean old guy who really just needs a friend

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