June 27, 2004
The Sun Has Set on the British Empire
From the Guardian:
The greatest British album of all time was recorded by four young men from the north-west of England, armed with the rock'n'roll rudiments of guitar, bass and drums and an ear for an unforgettable refrain.
Yes, as those of us on this side of the pond would have expected.
But it was not by the Beatles. Nor Oasis. The honour goes to the Stone Roses.
The outcome of a poll carried out for today's Observer Music Monthly shows a departure from traditional 'best album' lists.
Ozzy Osbourne, Emma Bunton, Morrissey, Brian May and the Darkness's Justin Hawkins are among 100 musicians and industry experts who selected their 10 favourite British albums. The results were used to compile the definitive list of the 100 Greatest British Albums.
The Beatles' Revolver was pushed into second place by the Roses, Oasis's first album Definitely Maybe languishes at No 19 and John Lydon's rock group PIL beat the Sex Pistols to the top 10.
Well.
Ozzy Osbourne? Emma Bunton? My God, I really don't give a shit who may have pushed or pulled the execrable Sex Pistols out of whatever place (or from under whatever rock) they may have wished to inhabit, but shoving aside The Beatles, who released at least three examples of what could arguably have been the greatest British album of all time? Who are these "critics?" Ozzy Osbourne was, as far as I know, still lucid in 1966, when Revolver was released, but when his votes were cast for this list? And had Emma Bunton even been born?
In all fairness, most of what's on the list deserves to be there, even if I might quibble about where it's placed. The Clash (who always outclassed The Sex Pistols) appear twice, with their two best efforts. The Beatles do appear a gratifying number of times, and The Rolling Stones' run of excellent albums in their fecund mid-period (as praised by Steve Van Zandt) is there, too.
The full list and (mumble, grumble) worthwhile commentary may be read here.
(Hat tip: Hit and Run)
June 24, 2004
My Inner Child's Big Chill
Well, it was amusing. I knew I was older than Pejman Yousefzadeh--who, apparently, is sixteen--but older by decades?
My inner child is forty-five years old!
I've never really liked children, not even when I
was one. I want things neat, ordered, and
adult--fine wine instead of french fries, pina
coladas by the pool instead of beach sand
between my toes. Now if only my fellow adults
would stop acting like such, well, children!
How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla
June 13, 2004
Political Insight from the Young
Political and foreign policy insight. Audioblogging.
And he's only eleven.
June 06, 2004
Sorry, honey, I forgot the anniversay...
Okay, I missed making note of my one-year blogiversary.
But look, Stephen Green missed it, too. And he had reason to observe it.
But really, every day is Capitalism Day
I had hoped to blog the worldwide campaign, but I wasn't receiving the emails.
What campaign, you ask? That's easy: the annual CelebrateCapitalism campaign, organized by Melbourne (Australia) radio host and activist Prodos.
Yes, I participate. Why would I not wish to recognize the Big Seven: Aristotle, Adam Smith, John Locke, Frederic Bastiat, Thomas Jefferson, Ayn Rand, and Ludwig von Mises? But it's more than just books.
I count Prodos as a friend, and what kicked me into becoming the organizer in El Paso, Texas for the initial campaign (WalkForCapitalism) was the realization that my mother-in-law, suffering from lymphatic cancer, was receiving the best treatment possible because she had had the good sense to be born in America in the 20th century. So I did it, and put together what I think turned out to be the smallest Walk in the 100+ participating countries.
Perhaps El Paso distinguishes itself, again, as the smallest worldwide participant. I do blame (if there's any blame to bestow) part of that showing on the local atmosphere here in the People's Democratic Republic of El Paso, but a good bit of the blame (again, if there is any) must rest on my own shoulders: I spent much of the first part of the year out of town on business, so much of the desired organizing never got done.
Capitalism getting in the way of capitalism? Yes, perhaps.
But the thing did get done, and in rather fine style. Business and the (non-subsidized) musical arts were celebrated, pizza was consumed with gusto, games were enjoyed, and beautiful women were appreciated. Prosperity and fun--and that's as it should be.
Objectively Pro-French
With no trace of irony, I noticed this memorializing-the-Normandy-landings-weekend that I've been rereading Les Miserables and listening to recordings of Poulenc chamber music. Does that make me objectively pro-French?
Hmmm...the timing of that particular music and reading is mere coincidence, but, well now, let's see: filet mignon, Frederic Bastiat, various blue cheeses, cognac, the bikini, an uncountable number of wines, Letitia (my God) Casta, and yes, Hugo and Poulenc: bet your ass I'm objectively pro-French.
More on Reagan
I remember the election campaigns of 1980, what with President Carter being alerted to the Ted Kennedy insurgency and claiming, "I'll whip his ass (he did)," and the plethora of Republican candidates. The only one for whom I felt anything positive was Ronald Reagan, who had unsuccessfully ran an insurgency himself in 1976.
I disliked George Bush for the very reason that many mainstream Republicans liked him: why, he'd been a congressman and an ambassador to the Chinese and Director of Central Intelligence and chairman of the Republican National Committee. "What?" I'd ask. "Can't this guy hold a job?"
Nobody ever laughed.
I had even less use for Illinois Congressman John Anderson, who became the darling of all the "independents." Then, as now, "independent" meant "liberal." There was all manner of gas being passed about how forward-thinking he was, how independent, yadda yadda yadda. Most of those who favored Anderson seemed to reserve their greatest criticisms of Reagan for his dyed hair and his makeup. Not much real policy analysis or argument as I recall.
None of that meant much to me: I was prepared to vote for Ed Clark, and I was quite impatient with the argument that I'd be "throwing my vote away."
Which, in my judgment, I did not do: I entered that voting booth in Clearwater, Florida, pulled the curtains and began to cast my vote for Libertarian candidate Clark. But my mind became flooded with months and months of Jimmy Carter blathering about El Salvador, El Salvador, El Salvador, and it suddenly became clear to me that Carter was getting ready to blunder us into war in Nicaragua and had to be stopped. I punched the ticket for Ronald Reagan and was glad to do so.
June 05, 2004
There you go again...
"If you seek his monument," George Will once told a television interviewer, "Look around." Had you done so, Will argued, you'd see that there was no Berlin Wall, no Iron Curtain, no Warsaw Pact threat to the West.