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Ethel the Blog
Observations (and occasional brash opining) on science, computers, books, music and other shiny things that catch my mind's eye. There's a home page with ostensibly more permanent stuff. This is intended to be more functional than decorative. I neither intend nor want to surf on the bleeding edge, keep it real, redefine journalism or attract nyphomaniacal groupies (well, maybe a wee bit of the latter). The occasional cheap laugh, raised eyebrow or provocation of interest are all I'll plead guilty to in the matter of intent. Bene qui latuit bene vixit.

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Wednesday, March 15, 2000

THE SECRET WORD
As much as I'm certain that cigars are nothing more (and probably less) than large dog turds wrapped in stinkweed, I am an obsessively devoted devourer of Groucho anecdotes, so I'll point the way to an
interview with Groucho's son Arthur in Cigar Aficionado. The best bits, which I'll reproduce here, are at the end:
He was still smoking cigars in his 80s, in spite of his doctor's admonition that he ought to quit.

"I thought you weren't supposed to smoke anymore," I said to him one evening when he started to light up a cigar at the dinner table.

"Listen, Big Feet," he replied. "When you get to my age you don't have many pleasures left. You can't drink, you can't screw. Smoking a cigar is the only thing left that gives me any pleasure. So I die a few years younger!"

"What about your doctor?" I said. "Did you ask him if it was all right to start again?"

He grinned and exclaimed, "How can I ask him? He died three weeks ago!"

My favorite anecdote about Groucho's cigar smoking occurred a few years before that when he was in Rome, walking through Vatican Square with a group of tourists. He had just lit a brand new $1 cigar, when someone behind him jostled his arm, causing him to drop the expensive Dunhill into a puddle of water.

"Jesus Christ!" Groucho exclaimed.

As he bent down to recover the cigar from the water, a Catholic priest, who was evidently the person who had bumped him from the rear, picked up the cigar first and handed it to him. "Congratulations, Groucho," grinned the priest, "you just said the Secret Word."

If you can find it, Arthur's out of print autobiography Son of Groucho is well worth a read, and a fine addition to any budding Marxist's collection.
posted by Steven Baum 3/15/2000 04:21:36 PM | link

RANT
Here's another script from my most recent bit of radio commentary on
KEOS.


On May 24, 1990 a bomb exploded in a car driven by Judi Bari and Darryl Cherney, two members of the environment organization Earth First!. They had been organizing a protest called Redwood Summer, a large campaign of nonviolent protests against corporate timber interests clearcutting redwood forests. The Oakland Police - at the request of the FBI - immediately arrested the two and charged them with being terrorists injured by the accidental explosion of their own bomb. Two months later - after a steady stream of press conferences in which the police and the FBI made claim after claim of evidence proving their guilt - the District Attorney refused to file any charges. Why? A total lack of evidence.

During the interim the incident was hysterically played up in the usual nutbar outlets as proof that those evil environmentalists were indeed the bloody terrorists they'd been warning them about. Rush Limbaugh probably soiled himself in cackling glee, chanting "I told you so" over and over with the supposed proof that the environmentalists were indeed the environazis he'd been calling them for years. Even after Bari and Cherney weren't charged with anything, they were still attacked as guilty, no doubt having escaped arrest and conviction only because of some combination of bad luck on the police's part and evil lawyer tricks on theirs.

If that were all there were to it then it'd be just another propaganda victory for the reactionary hatemongers as well as another overzealous attempt by the Feds to co-opt a political movement disliked by their corporate buddies. But it wasn't. It turns out - in evidence culled from the FBI's own files - that agents falsified evidence against Bari and Cherney, suppressed exonerating evidence, and conspired with Oakland police to aattempt to frame them.

Take the explosion itself, for instance. Press releases stated that it was a bomb constructed by Earth First to be used against the timber industry, and that it accidentally exploded while being transported on the back seat floorboard. Documents written by the FBI's chief bomb expert - not released until years after the incident - reveal that the bomb had been completely hidden under the driver's seat, that it had a motion trigger as well as a timer, and that it had functioned exactly as designed rather than exploding accidentally.

The obvious next question is, of course, if they didn't make the bomb then who did? Well, not only did the FBI - knowing that they weren't guilty - attempt to frame them, it also refused to investigate real clues about the incident. For instance, they didn't even bother to attempt to identify fingerprints found on the bomb. And the more time that passes - nearly a decade now - the less likely it is for a crime to be solved.

Why the crude frame job that only a complete idiot would think would survive any sort of rational scrutiny? After all, it would be just a matter of time before the frame-up was discovered. Given the political circumstances in California in 1990, in turns out that time was just what one possible suspect needed. On the ballot for the 1990 fall election was Proposition 130, which would have banned unsustainable liquidation logging and clearcutting. The forest industry obviously opposed it, to the point of hiring a PR firm to conduct a multi-million dollar campaign to attempt to paint and thus smear the issue as the Earth First! initiative. A major tactic was to spread phoney Earth First! flyers calling for violence and sabotage against the lumber companies. The bomb exploded a week or so after they began spreading the flyers. A great deal of outrage and hatred was expressed against Earth First! as the propagandists and the police successfully combined to make the frame-up stick just long enough. Proposition 130 failed.

Judi Bari died of cancer in 1997, but a lawsuit she launched against those who framed her and attempted to kill her is still alive.
posted by Steven Baum 3/15/2000 04:10:41 PM | link

MAPLESHADE
An audiophile label that releases mostly jazz and blues recordings, although they're getting a bit more
eclectic lately. The chief engineer and owner of Mapleshade Studios is Pierre Sprey, who in a previous life was a member of the design teams that created the F-16 and A-10 jet fighters. During the design of those planes he was always arguing for simplicity over complexity ("It's more logical for a jet to do one thing really well than 100 things half-assed."), a philosophy he also applies to his current professional recording career.

His highly praised recordings are the result of both atmosphere:

World-class musicians, some famous, some unknown, record for us. They are honored guests at our studio, an historic, secluded plantation house with warm, natural acoustics. In this creative and unpressured atmosphere, freed of time limits, our artists are inspired to play with more innovation and fire.
and technology
Our recording technology is equally radical. We design and build, or custom-modify, all of our electronics from microphones to tape recorders to wires. All must meet standards well beyond commercial state-of-the-art. We record live to two-track analog, transfer to digital at a rate 100 times faster than the CD standard, and use no add-on EQ, reverb or noise reduction electronics. Our recordings are made with only 2 to 4 microphones and no cables longer than 20 feet. The resulting sound has startling, "in-the-room" clarity, brilliance, spaciousness and dynamics. People with $150 boomboxes, as well as audiophiles with $100,000 systems, tell us our CDs convey far more of the music's excitement than any commercial studio recordings.
with his recording philosophy well summed up by one of the t-shirts available at the site:
Mapleshade No t-shirt
The CDs are $15 apiece, although they have an ongoing special for Internet customers wherein 4 or more are only $9.60 apiece, a bargain for the quality of both the music and the recording process. They have around 50 releases currently available. They're divided into several categories including jazz, blues, wildchild, explorations (these latter two involving their more adventurous and eclectic recordings), and Pierre's picks (the CDs selected by the proprieter as their best for equipment evaluation and system demonstration - yes, these are popular audiophile evaluation disks).

Those I'm going to get my grubby paws on first include:

  • Live at Ethell's - Clifford Jordan Quintet (supposedly their best live recorded CD, and not just for the misspelled title)
  • Makin' Whoopee: Tribute to the King Cole Trio - King/Bluiett Trio (said to be their best studio recorded disk)
  • Solo Spirit - Larry Willis
  • Afterglow - Kendra Shank with the Larry Willis Quintet and Gary Bartz (a must if you've bought any Diana Krall CD)
  • Brand New Bag - Ebony Brass Quintet (including everything from New Orleans street-band tunes to World Saxophone Quartet-like excursions)
  • Boogeyin': Swamprock, Salsa & 'Trane - A La Carte Brass and Percussion (a group with 14 brass players and salsa percussionists described as "so direct and vivid that it can blow out candles", although hopefully not a la Le Petomane)
  • Celebration! - Brother Ah's World Music Ensemble
I'm probably also going to snag both t-shirts, with the second a bright number advertisting their Wildchild! releases and looking not at all unlike:
Mapleshade Wild t-shirt

posted by Steven Baum 3/15/2000 03:11:11 PM | link

METASTUFF
Pinched and purloined from the indicated elsewheres.

posted by Steven Baum 3/15/2000 02:13:39 PM | link

TONIGHT'S ENTERTAINMENT
That which was chosen for my aural pleasure this evening includes:
  • "Life's Too Good" - Sugarcubes featuring the yelping, chilling, heavenly voice of Bjork before she went solo
  • "Vengeance" - Garmarna featuring a Swedish folk-rock band that takes ancient, eerie Swedish folk songs and brings them into at least the 18th century if not further
  • "Karelia Visa" - Hedningarna is a Swedish-Finnish group featuring a pair of marvelous, haunting female vocalists who, along with the instrumentalists on a wide range of modern and less modern instruments, reinterpret classic ancient Finnish runesongs
  • "Gierran" - Wimme in which a Saami (the aboriginal people of northern Sweden, Finland, Norway and Russia) filters the traditional Saami chanting form called joik through modern techniques and instruments
  • "Lone Star State of Mind" - Nanci Griffith is my second favorite album of hers behind The Last of the True Believers (the latter of which, after hearing on NPR many moons ago, I rushed out immediately and bought on vinyl - yep, it was that many moons) featuring the title track and my preferred version of "From a Distance"
More about those three in the middle can be found at the Northside site, i.e. a label that Manfred Eicher might have started if he'd lived a little further north and was a bit less recondite.
posted by Steven Baum 3/15/2000 12:48:14 AM | link

Tuesday, March 14, 2000

STRANGE LIT
As a big fan and collector of unusual dictionaries, encyclopedias and other reference works, imagine my pleasure at finding a copy of Jesse Sheidlower's (who, the jacket tells us, lives in Manhattan with his dog and cat and a f#@k of a lot of books)
The F Word down at the local Half Price. (Incidentally, while searching for it at Amazon I found another narrowly focused book called The Other F Word by Barry and Urwin Seltzer, who apparently have a copy of the first book.) I'll bravely offer that the first F word is "fuck" and the other F word is "fart" and, even more bravely, I'll nuke the quotation marks and comment that I'm pretty fucking pissed off not being able to work up a good fart right now. Well, I'm not projecting split-pea soup across the room, no goat sacrifices are in evidence, I'm not going blind (at least from vocalizations), and I've pretty much survived unscathed the breaking one of the great societal taboos (with the only greater one as of late being objecting to the notion that capitalism was invented in the Old Testament and canonized in the New by Jesus, the king of leveraged buyouts - damn, I'll never forgive myself for not picking up that pamphlet entitled "Jesus Was a Capitalist" I encountered at least a decade ago).

I'm immediately reminded of the classic Carlin "Seven Dirty Words" routine (and, yes, I'm listening to it right now) routine, the link for which originates with the Federal Communication Commission's (FCC) transcript of the Carlin monologue in the FCC vs. Pacifica case. I'll carve out the "fuck" part (there go those damned quotes again!) for your reading pleasure (although you really should snag the CD to hear it done by the great verbal comedian of our time who, incidentally, appeared on MadTV a few weeks ago in a sketch called "Touched by an Atheist"):

Anyway, enough of that shit. (laughter) The big one, the word fuck that's the one that hangs them up the most. [']Cause in a lot of cases that's the very act that hangs them up the most. So, it's natural that the word would, uh, have the same effect. It's a great word, fuck, nice word, easy word, cute word, kind of. Easy word to say. One syllable, short u. (laughter) Fuck. (Murmur) You know, it's easy. Starts with a nice soft sound fuh ends with a kuh. Right? (laughter) A little something for everyone. Fuck (laughter) Good word. Kind of a proud word, too. Who are you? I am FUCK. (laughter) FUCK OF THE MOUNTAIN. (laughter) Tune in again next week to FUCK OF THE MOUNTAIN. (laughter) It's an interesting word too, [']cause it's got a double kind of a life -- personality -- dual, you know, whatever the right phrase is. It leads a double life, the word fuck. First of all, it means, sometimes, most of the time, fuck. What does it mean? It means to make love. Right? We're going to make love, yeh, we're going to fuck, yeh, we're going to fuck, yeh, we're going to make love. (laughter) we're really going to fuck, yeah, we're going to make love. Right? And it also means the beginning of life, it's the act that begins life, so there's the word hanging around with words like love, and life, and yet on the other hand, it's also a word that we really use to hurt each other with, man. It's a heavy. It's one that you have toward the end of the argument. (laughter) Right? (laughter) You finally can't make out. Oh, fuck you man. I said, fuck you. (laughter, murmur) Stupid fuck. (laughter) Fuck you and everybody that looks like you. (laughter) man.

It would be nice to change the movies that we already have and substitute the word fuck for the word kill, wherever we could, and some of those movie cliches would change a little bit. Madfuckers still on the loose. Stop me before I fuck again. Fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump. Easy on the clutch Bill, you'll fuck that engine again. (laughter)

Enough of the brief (and clinically detached as hell) digression and back to the book, which consists of a 40 page introduction, 180 pages of words and phrases involving - you guessed it - that naughty, naughty word, and an appendix covering its equivalent in other languages. Here's a few entries to give you the flavor thereof:

chicken-fucker (noun) a depraved or disgusting fellow - usually used with "baldheaded" [hey, I resent that!]

Dutch fuck (noun) an act of lighting one cigarette from another

FUJIGMO (interjection Military) "fuck you Jack, I got my orders"

jug-fuck (noun Military) 1. a drinking bout; 2. a confused or frustrating situation

I omitted the OED-like, lengthy references to the actual use of the words and phrases, most of which are more entertaining than the definitions. I'd like to note the conspicuous lack of a personal favorite, i.e. "fuckwit", which seems to be quite popular on the web. Since the book first came out in 1995 I'll forgive the author for not encountering and including that one. This book does a nice job illustrating Carlin's point about it being an all-purpose word, and not just a linguistic crutch used by illiterate motherfuckers.
posted by Steven Baum 3/14/2000 10:52:53 PM | link

ANTIQUE FARM EQUIPMENT
Like the proprieter of
Mandomonger Farm, I've recently had my interest in antique farm equipment rekindled. I say rekindled since, growing up on a farm in central Ohio during the 60s (and, incidentally, wholly ignorant of Kent State until well after the fact), I had the same sort of thing for tractors that most males my age had for high-performance automobiles. I have more than a few fond memories of tooling around on my dad's John Deere B
John Deere B
as well as his John Deere 4010
John Deere 4010
Okay, the second one's just a model of which, by the way, I had a few when I was callow. I knew of the die-cast John Deere toys made by Ertl (as well as the ones they made for Farmall, Case, etc. although I was a John Deere groupie and wouldn't truck with those lame pretenders). I'd dream about getting all the ones they made, but I never, ever even dreamed that they had as many different models from as many different brands as you can see at Action Farm Toys. There's even quite a collector's market, as can be seen by an entire ebay Ertl auction category. If I hadn't blown all that money on stereo equipment recently, I'd be sorely tempted to throw a lot of scratch Ertl way (in some bizarre attempt to regain my lost youth, probably, but, what the hell, everybody's gotta do something).

My interest in even older beasties than you see above was piqued when I spotted Floyd Clymer's Album of Historical Steam Traction Engines (in, I think, a Sears catalog of all places) and literally begged to get it for my upcoming birthday. I got it and damned near wore the thing out looking at the pictures of those ancient stream-powered behemoths. While looking for a copy at ABEbooks (they're out of print but a few dozen used ones can be had) I chanced upon the books of someone who can only be called the Gibbon of antique farm equipment: C. H. Wendel. While he's written over a dozen books on the topic, his magnum opuses (opii?) are Encyclopedia of American Farm Tractors and Encyclopedia of American Farm Implements and Antiques. A more specialized book is Jeff Creighton's Combines and Harvesters: A Photographic History, which goes into much more detail on the topic than Wendel's Encyclopedia.

Wendel must have file cabinets full of extremely rare and old literature (advertisements, trade publications, etc.), with the evidence getting rarer and rarer the earlier one goes back into the 1900s. For instance, kits for converting the Ford Model T into a tractor were quite popular for a few years after WWI (although their popularity was short-lived due to Model Ts just not being designed for the task), with nearly 30 companies offering conversion kits. Alas, it gets easier and easier towards the end of last century, with all the research needed being to send away for the catalogs of the dozen or so farm equipment companies remaining on the planet.
posted by Steven Baum 3/14/2000 10:38:21 PM | link

USED AUDIO EQUIPMENT
I've made quite an extensive search for sources of used mid- to high-end audio equipment over the last month. You can find some great deals if you know a bit about what you're looking for. Those who catch the audiophile bug real bad (and who have the scratch to feed it) are constantly trading components in for better (i.e. more expensive) ones, and you can take advantage of their obsession by snagging their used (i.e. pampered and used for probably six months at most) equipment for 50-80% of the new price. Bearing that in mind, here are the best sources for used equipment I've found:
Local sources worth checking out include the weekly classified paper, pawn shops, and, of course, stores that specialize in selling audio equipment.
posted by Steven Baum 3/14/2000 09:14:21 PM | link

OCTOBER REPRISE
Here's an anticipatory conspiracy theory to chew on. Given the steady trickle of recent stories about
Ronald Reagan's accelerating decline from Alzheimer's disease, plus the control doctors have over the the time of one's final breath (e.g. increasing the morphine drip, unplugging the machines this week instead of next week, etc.), who wants to guess just how close to election day in November the Gipper will trot off (i.e. be trotted off) this mortal coil? The average life expectancy after diagnosis is 8 years, and his famous final letter was released in 1994, although it is fairly common knowledge that he exhibited symptoms well before that.

A friend who's even more cynical than I said he had a vision of Nancy in the next room, holding a pillow and waiting for the high sign. Personally, I wouldn't put anything past the GOP given their hysterical, almost maniacal need to regain the White House, especially seeing how the last 8 years have been an absolute hell on earth for them. Well, except of course for their bank accounts and stock portfolios, which have not just survived but thrived, thus enabling them to afford their double or triple alimony payments and still put buckets of money in the party coffers to get that moral reprobate out of the White House.
posted by Steven Baum 3/14/2000 05:40:01 PM | link


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