WAR STORIES

It's Veterans Day, so we're telling war stories. Everyone loves war stories. Life, death, courage, you know the drill. We grew up playing war games. Some went off to actual wars to kill or be killed. Here are some war stories interwoven with the words of Tim O'Brien, a Vietnam veteran and author of The Things They Carried, and Going After Cacciato, which won the National Book Award in 1979. I was fortunate to study with O'Brien at the Sewanee Writers Conference in Tennessee, where he meticulously line-edited 75 pages of my novel-in-progress. I can assure you, the man is obsessed with "getting it right," and his work reflects a precision of emotion and truth one rarely encounters in writing of any kind. O'Brien has written extensively about his experiences in Vietnam, the moral dimension as well as the combat, and he often speaks about the difference between "story-truth" and "truth-truth."


"A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things they have always done." -Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried



"You can tell a true war story by the questions you ask. Somebody tells a story, let's say, and afterward you ask, 'Is it true?' and if the answer matters, you've got your answer.

For example, we've all heard this one. Four guys go down a trail. A grenade sails out. One guy jumps on it and takes the blast and saves his three buddies.

Is it true?

The answer matters."

"You'd feel cheated if it never happened. Without the grounding reality, it's just a trite bit of puffery, pure Hollywood, untrue in the way all such stories are untrue. Yet even if it did happen - and maybe it did, anything's possible even then you know it can't be true, because a true war story does not depend upon that kind of truth. Absolute occurrence is irrelevant. A thing may happen and be a total lie; another thing may not happen and be truer than the truth. For example: Four guys go down a trail. A grenade sails out. One guy jumps on it and takes the blast, but it's a killer grenade and everybody dies anyway. Before they die, though, one of the dead guys says, 'The fuck you do that for?' and the jumper says, 'Story of my life, man,' and the other guy starts to smile but he's dead. That's a true story that never happened."



"Often in a true war story there is not even a point, or else the point doesn’t hit you until, say, twenty years later, in your sleep, and you wake up and shake your wife and start telling the story to her, except when you get to the end you’ve forgotten the point again. And then for a long time you lie there watching the story happen in your head. You listen to your wife’s breathing. The war’s over. You close your eyes. You smile and think, Christ, what’s the point?"

Read Tim O'Brien's books. Buy them here and here.

GEEKING OUT WITH THE SMITHS

The Smiths. Obsessive compulsive music freaks--the type Nick Hornby immortalized in the book High Fidelity--consider these guys the quintessential British indie band of the 1980s. So how did I miss them? Are they any good? I didn't pay much attention the first time through, as I was busy nursing a 1970s hangover that decade, and if I happened to cast a jaundiced eye in their direction I'm sure they would have seemed fey and lightweight compared to the leaden warhorses I was familiar with; this was mere danceable pop, and easily dismissed. Wendy, our resident 1980s expert, discourages such a snap judgment. She grew up with the Smiths, and this music is the soundtrack of her college years (in fact, I think she chose her school thinking the band had something to do with the place) and yes, it may not be my usual esoteric, avant-garde, weirdo, trainspotting sort of music, but it's definitely worth a listen. Point taken.


Ok, once I get past the "eighties-ness" of the sound, I hear a definite British Invasion influence--these are pop songs, after all. Morrissey is a melancholy crooner, completely over the top, but somehow his voice works well with the music of guitar player Johnny Marr. There is something hypnotic about these tunes. And danceable. And darker than I'd expected--I hear a little Joy Division? And the lyrics are clever, I'll grant you that, even if they would make sorrowful Young Werther seem happy-go-lucky. Okay, okay. But they're good. I can't just dismiss them as wounded romantics lost in a wash of synths.



He's strange, this Morrissey...is he having a laugh? The hair and campy vibe--what's that all about? Fans are obsessed, and they tell me he just had a big comeback tour. Who knew?


Okay, I like it. I'll give them a couple spins and see if they stick to my besotted brain. It's nice to be turned on to something new--even if it's old. Who knows? Once the spotlight hits the mirror ball maybe we can dance to it.

WHAT A WEEK, AMERICA

What a week, America! Thank God the weekend is here! This should give you a chance to clear the adrenaline and alcohol out of your system and soothe your jangled nerves. You will never forget this week as long as you live--and not just for the record number of mini-tacos you consumed while screaming at the television. This is history, babe. Now take a breather.


In this short film from 1945, Frank Sinatra teaches a gang of street kids a lesson about tolerance, and sings "The House I Live In (That's America to Me)." This film might puzzle you now that racism no longer exists. Just kidding. The short was made to combat prejudice and antisemitism at the end of World War II, when soldiers came home from fighting Hitler's "racial superiority" overseas to find a segregated, racist America just the way they'd left it.

The film is dated, for sure, and it might make you wince in spots--the crack about "the Japs" is unfortunate--but judged in the context of its time, when it was first screened in theaters in 1945, it can be seen as an honest attempt to teach tolerance. It seems corny now, but this recent presidential election made it clear that such a message isn't completely irrelevant in some backwards corners of the country. I'm just saying...



"The House I Live In" was written in 1943, with lyrics by Abel Meeropol and music by Earl Robinson. Meeropol wrote under the pen name Lewis Allan, and had very liberal views and mixed feelings about America. He loved the constitutional rights and freedoms of America, but was sickened by its racism, antisemitism, and mistreatment of people with unpopular political views. America was at war with Nazi Germany, where those attitudes ruled, when Meeropol wrote these lyrics to explain what was right about America.

Abel Meeropol (1903-1986), poet, songwriter, high school teacher from the Bronx

It should come as no surprise that Meeropol was hounded by the US government for his liberal (some would say communist) views. Earl Robinson was also blacklisted. Like many progressives, Meeropol took an interest in the controversial case of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, a married couple executed as spies in 1953. Meeropol felt they were wrongly accused, and he and his wife adopted their orphaned sons, Michael and Robert. The boys took Meeropol's last name (it was easier to be a Meeropol than a Rosenberg at the time), and have spent their adult lives trying to clear their birth parents' names.

Meeropol also wrote "Strange Fruit," a haunting poem about the horrors of lynching which became the signature song of jazz singer Billie Holiday.

-information from songfacts

WHISKEYTOWN!

See? This post isn't even Obama-related. With the release of a great new album by a cleaned-up Ryan Adams, "Cardinalogy," it's worth digging back to his old band, Whiskeytown. They were a rough and tumble band that played Americana, alt.country, no depression music--or whatever you want to call it--music built with equal parts old school country and indie rock, a continuation of the country rock lineage of Gram Parsons (the Byrds, Flying Burrito Brothers) and Neil Young & Crazy Horse.

These sweethearts of the rodeo occasionally ventured out from their gilded palace of sin to play for adoring fans, and I saw them one time, years back, and they were on fire. They say bad boy Adams has cleaned up his act, and that's good. In the clip above they play "Dancing with the Women at the Bar" on Austin City Limits.

Ryan Adams wakes up under a tree with his hair full of leaves: booze, drugs, and temper tantrums have plagued a career that zig-zags like a drunken sailor on a unicycle, but now he's clean and sober and the new album is great.


Ryan Adams and the Cardinals perform "Fix it" on the Letterman Show.

Read the Rolling Stone review of the "Cardinalogy" here.
For a Ryan Adams piece in the NYTimes, click here.
For a story from Paste Magazine click here.

BUH-BYE

We're still celebrating Obama's win, and, in the spirit of Barack's magnanimous victory speech, we're trying to avoid taking cheap potshots at Sarah Palin. We're trying hard. Really. After all the attention and ballyhoo of the presidential race, Palin will be returning empty-handed to the frozen tundra, and no, we won't miss her shrill, ill informed musings, but on a human level it's kind of sad. On the other hand, we're not getting carried away with grief since we know this won't be the last we'll see of this neo-con Barbie. This ambitious politician will probably get retooled and freshly-painted for another big run (64% of Republicans polled want Palin to run again in 2012) but until then...we'll say buh-bye, Sarah. This song is for you. I think you'd better go now...



Sorry, we can't stop! There are a number of reports surfacing about tension between Palin and the McCain camp. Aides are coming forward with all the gory details. They describe her as a difficult diva behind the scenes, and many say they were concerned she simply didn't know enough to be Vice President. We agree, of course, but this is coming from inside the McCain camp!

We knew she wasn't exactly brilliant, and certainly no cartographer, but it turns out she thought Africa was a single country and not a continent. Even worse, and closer to home, she couldn't name the countries in North America. (Palin-supporters, take note: the countries are Canada, Mexico, and the USA.) Oh, and the $150,000 worth of expensive clothes? It's turned out to be much more--with $40,000 for husband Todd alone--it's expensive to have the common touch and look like a real hockey mom. According to this story, a GOP lawyer was dispatched to Alaska to retrieve some of the clothing (story here).

This news report details the backstage rift at McCain headquarters. Watch Bill O'Reilly trying to put a good spin on it, but this is hopeless.

YES! OBAMA WINS!

Barack Obama wins the presidential election with 349 electoral votes to John McCain's 147. Obama becomes the 44th president of the United States of America in the largest voter turnout in 90 years--since women got the vote.


Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert announce the historic news.


Juan Williams describes the road leading to the first black president in America's history, and gets a little choked up.


President-elect Obama's victory speech

VOTE COMMUNITY ORGANIZER

It's no surprise these Republican assholes sneer at "community organizers." After all, community organizers were key to the civil rights movement, the anti-war movements, the feminist movement, the environmental movement, the gay rights movement, and movements for affordable housing and healthcare. In other words, movements the Republicans violently opposed every step of the way.

Community organizers work on the grassroots level organizing communities for the common good, often working against powerful interests. No wonder the Republicans don't get it.

Martin Luther King, Jr., community organizer

When Barack Obama graduated from Harvard Law School, where he edited the prestigious law review, he could've easily joined some white shoe law firm and really raked in the bucks, but instead he went to Chicago to organize workers who had been stranded after the steel mills shut down. Call me naive, but I find this commendable. In fact, I believe this sense of service and sacrifice--along with a cool, formidable intelligence--will serve him well as President of the United States.

Cesar Chavez, community organizer

Sarah Palin can smirk and wink and say being mayor of Wasilla was like being a community organizer, only with responsibilities--but anyone who's ever worked as an organizer can tell you that's a load of horseshit. Organizers have plenty of responsibilities, and few resources, and they do everything from scratch. In the 1980s, I worked as a community organizer on Central America issues--fighting against Reagan's contra war (remember trading arms for hostages? Ollie North?)-- and my fellow community organizers worked harder than Palin ever did, I can assure you. I've never seen a more tireless, intelligent, and resourceful group of people in my life. And they never got a $150,000 clothing allowance, either.

Obama on community organizing, and the Republican comments:




Saul Alinsky is considered the father of modern community organizing. In the 1930s, Alinsky organized the Back of the Yards neighborhood in Chicago (made infamous by Upton Sinclair's novel The Jungle about horrific working conditions in the stockyards). He coined the term "Think Globally, Act Locally."

Saul Alinsky, 1909-1972, community organizer

Alinsky influenced several generations of activists working for social change with his pragmatic primers Reveille for Radicals (1946) and Rules for Radicals (1972). In the opening paragraph of Rules, Alinsky wrote:

"What follows is for those who want to change the world from what it is to what they believe it should be. The Prince was written by Machiavelli for the Haves on how to hold power. Rules for Radicals is written for the Have-Nots on how to take it away."

Here's the Daily Show take on the community organizers: