Dispatches from the Culture War
Late last year, the NY Police were very, very cross with their new Mayor, who had the gall to mention that he had instructed his son to be very careful and respectful if he had any encounters with the police. Here’s a picture of the mayor and his son.
What possible reason could da mayor have had for saying such a thing?
That fellow up there trying to avoid my camera’s eye is my son. 1He is also my wife’s son, but this is about me. So there. This attempt at candid capture is Exhibit 5234 in a series of why I am the most annoying person in the world.2To be fair, he suggests that I am only tied with Mom. Again, this blog is about ME. So there. Mea culpa.
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Last week, a group of frat boys in Oklahoma were caught on video chanting a completely unhinged racist fraternity song. As any member of the privileged class would do, they lawyered up right quick and issued a sincere apology 1Written for them by a crisis manager, naturally. in which they declared themselves thoroughly embarrassed by their “mistake”, but that they want everyone to realize that they know in their hearts they are “not racist”. The University expelled the ringleaders and evicted the frat from campus. Of course, now the not-racists-in-their-hearts and the fraternity are suing the University, because they are certainly the real victims in all this.
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See that way cool cat up there? That’s composer/pianist/bandleader Horace Silver. He recorded a bunch of very deep swinging albums for Blue Note in the 60s. 1Turns out he died while I was in hospital last summer, passing without me noticing. Mea culpa. He’s not one of the Major figures in jazz, but he is significant. And swinging. Been listening to him a fair bit the past few days, thanks to the serendipity of Ipodius Randomonious.
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