Random Thoughts

That SARS thing & other trifles

I‘m writing this on Thursday, April 24, with the news coming out about the SARS virus gaining on Toronto. Lets see, Toronto is a 10 hour drive from Northern Michigan and a two-hour plane ride. That means that by the time this column comes out, you readers should all have your masks on, since I imagine the whole place will be lousy with the SARS epidemic and people dropping like flies.
Personally, I still haven‘t digested my fears of the dread West Nile skeeter virus (remember that one?), or the threat of the smallpox epidemic Saddam was going to loose on America, or the anthrax plague which was going to be unleashed by a choice of, a.) Al Queda; b.) white supremicist crazies; or c.) nutcase mad scientists in the employ of America‘s germ warfare program.
Then there‘s deer TB and Chronic Wasting Disease, PCBs in the fat of lake trout, Mad Cow Disease, vicious ticks spreading Lyme Disease, and invisible ozone pollution drifting across the lake from Chicago, Gary and Milwaukee, and...
So, SARS, gee, hmmm... Personally, I‘ve got enough stuff to worry about already, like the possiblity of getting a really bad paper cut, or those mosquitos lurking out at the cottage. Could someone else please take this one on? I‘ve got a trip planned to Toronto this summer and can‘t be bothered with yet another killer disease.

Toughen up, Chicks
Hey Dixie Chicks, quit your blubbering. Ever since a shoot-from-the-hip member of the Chicks told a London audience that she was ashamed that George Bush was from Texas, they‘ve been knocking themselves bug-eyed apologizing to wrathful Charlie Daniels types
Apologizing over and over again didn‘t work for Trent Lott or Bill Clinton and it won‘t work for the Dixie Chicks. Apologizing to so-called “fans“ who could care less about freedom of speech just gives them more incentive to kick harder when you‘re down.
For proof of that, you need only consider that the Battle of the Dixie Chicks has gone on longer than the war in Iraq itself.
Instead of tearful apologies, the Dixie Chicks should make the point that the president is surely tough enough to handle whatever a country pop star can dish out. It‘s part of the job description.
And they should let Bruce Springsteen do the talking. Like Mr. “Born in the U.S.A.” says, it‘s un-American to try depriving the Dixie Chicks of their freedom of speech. Chick-bashers have urged shutting down their concerts and kicking them off the radio. Predictably, sales of Dixie Chicks CDs have shot up in response, and they’re booking sold-out shows. That’s the true American way.
So, quit apologizing Dixie Chicks -- put on your American flag pajamas if you must -- and just play your music. When Americans are afraid to speak their minds, then it‘s the Saddams of the world and their kissing cousins here at home who‘ve taken a bite out of our freedom. In Iraq, police earned bonuses for imprisoning people for their thoughts and words. That sort of spirit doesn’t belong in America.

Get Rich or Die Tryin‘
Want to solve unemployment in America? Become a rap artist. If you’ve got the rhymes and the shtick down right, the money just rains from the sky.
If you read any of the pop culture rags, you can‘t help running into former crack dealer and gunshot target 50 Cent, who‘s the new king of hip-hop. In breathless prose Rolling Stone notes that 50 Cent is piling up mountains of bling-bling with the usual rhymes about killa’s, pimps, dope, ho‘s and such.
Who buys this stuff? Suburban white boys ages 13-16, apparently, who have unlimited disposable incomes. Enough, perhaps, to reverse the tide of unemployment in our country -- buying the CDs of newly minted rappers -- with money left over to pay off the national debt and lunch at Taco Bell too.
Rap’s defenders always offer lip service about the exquisite quality of the rhymes and their social relevance (yawn); but if you‘ve noticed, with the biggest stars such as Eminem or 50 Cent, it‘s a hefty dose of hate that provides the sizzle for the steak and drives CD sales into the stratosphere.
If it can work for rap, then why not for folk, country, jazz, rock and new age? Lucinda Williams and Madonna both have some rap on their new folkie-flavored CDs, but sadly, neither are @#*% nasty enough to capture the hearts & wallets of teenage fans.
Some tips for unemployed persons interested in becoming overnight millionaires. No musical talent required:
1. Each song must include at least one of the following words: “thrilla‘, chillin’, bitch, pimp or killa‘.“
2. Sass your momma. Eminem lived with his mom until he was in his mid-20s and then made a fortune dragging her through the mud to the delight of his resentful teen fans.
3. The raunchier the better. We‘re talking sales here, and the discerning buyers of these CDs expect nothing less than the absolute dregs of your subconcious mind.
4. Cook up some baloney about your music being a sensitive look at the tough streets you hail from. If you‘re writing a country song about what‘s at the bottom of the outhouse, you can say it mirrors your environment, just like 50 Cent. Ditto if you‘re a new age artist singing about the bad-boy joys of an upper colonic enema or a saline nasal douche.
5. Glorify violence, radiate bad vibes and project a “poor me“ attitude. This will be tough for jazz artists, but folkies should be able to pull it off, given an attitude adjustment.
Then just sit back and let the bling-bling roll in so you can write more rhymes about how great it is being a money-grubbing, big shot player with a pimped-out Lexus and a gold belt buckle instead of a heart.

View On Our Website