You Can Say You to Me

There's a legend in which Helmut Kohl told Bill Clinton "You can say you to me." I remember laughing about this friendly little gaf. See, in the German language, they still have the familiar pronoun. "Thou" is in the ashcan of English antiquity, but it survives as "du" in modern German.

So when a German says "you can say you to me," he's inviting you to be his friend. And who wouldn't want to be Helmut Kohl's friend? He promoted peace, unity, prosperity for 16 years. His accomplishments include unifying Germany and ushering in a pan-European currency!

And he was a conservative!

The reason I'm thinking of Helmut Kohl and his funny little (alleged) language error is our own conservative party in the USA.

Everything is vitriol now. "I'm a genius." "You live in a shithole." "That guys sucks his own cock." "That guy is a fucking idiot." It's exhausting. Where's the basic human decency?

I'm a progressive. But I've agreed with some conservatives. High-functioning humans in politics are complicated, and you can agree with some of their views without accepting all of them. But these days conservatives are two-dimensional caricatures obsessed with cheap insults and bad manners.

Helmut Kohl was at times brutal in his politics, but wanted to be your friend. He wanted everyone to be friends. He convinced Reagan to visit a German military (NAZI) cemetery in the name of friendship!

And after he left office, he was humble and introspective and reflected on his own political tactics, admitting that he at times acted like a dictator in the name of peace.

Helmut Kohl died in June last year (2017).

Here's more about him:
Wiki »
Acted like a Dictator »
Cost of reunification »

---

As a caveat, I'd like to offer this anecdote:

Yesterday at work a couple of women ate lunch and in the end, after eating everything except their ceviche appetizer, told their server that they "tried everything in the world to make this taste better, but it tastes like shit." They didn't want to pay for it.

They could have said something like "I'm sorry, but I didn't enjoy this, and I'd prefer not to pay for it." Why be vulgar for no reason? Why begin with conflict?

The ceviche was covered in hot sauce and salt as a result of their trying to make it "taste better."

I'm guessing they were not Trump supporters. But what the president and his ilk are accomplishing is a drastic diminishment of how we interact with one another. And I think it's important to have a culture of dignity and respect.

I resisted the urge to ask them if that's how they talk when they go to someone's house.

Universe Fucking: An open letter to Max Perkins on his birthday

Dear Max,

I know it feels like the universe is a malevolent force or at least an indifferent one.

I've decried the fools who have the nerve to tell the downtrodden if they put good vibes out into the universe, the universe will reward them with good luck. It's an offensive conceit. Anyone whose breath's been knocked from their guts knows no good vibes will save them.

You've elucidated through postings and rants how you feel about the universe and those who espouse stupid Sufi sayings in defense of universe fucking. And yeah, fuck the universe I guess. Who cares anyway?

But it seems to me you're wrong about one fundamental thing: separation from the universe is a persistent and tricky illusion.

You are the universe. You're a tiny, maybe insignificant part. But that's kind of cool I think.

The universe is infinite, so you're infinite.

It's usually pretty beautiful too.

So indeed, the universe doesn't care about you or me just as our bodies and minds don't care about us, but that really shouldn't matter.

And hey, being an infinite being part of a swirling glowing expanse is pretty nifty, right?

Your pal in the void (there's no such thing as a void),

Sky Jack Morgan

The Stuff of Nightmares

Chef Arshad is convinced Von Hagens is out there Berking people in order to obtain subjects for his art. It truly is the stuff of nightmares, but there is something in his work that is undeniably thought-provoking and interesting, something more than just a macabre attraction.

I went to an exhibition of Body Worlds Koerperwelten in Germany many years ago and was astonished and fascinated. It's a remarkable feat to plasticize and and arrange corpses into sometimes beautiful poses for eternity.

I also went to the permanent exhibit inside Luxor. It's worth checking out if you're in Vegas. I'm always curious how the artists get these bodies. I'm guessing most people are like Arshad and think they're murder victims. I doubt that. Most are donated by the people while they're alive, supposedly. (bwahahahahaha)

The corpses in sexual positions are particularly bizarre and haunting. They're challenging, as all artistic endeavors pushing the outside of our sexual more envelopes are. And if art is supposed to be dangerous and thought-provoking, Body Worlds and works like it definitely delivers.

Here's a cool article about it.

Goodbye, David Bowie

David Bowie has influenced my life as long as I can remember. I love how his life itself was a work of art. He reinvented constantly, somehow remained relevant, and never seemed to falter under the burden of success. An iconoclast and creative force over so many decades, it's hard to imagine a time when David Bowie wasn't. 

His death is affecting me more than most musicians' have because he is more than most musicians are. Bowie was a mogul of music, art, fashion, literature, film, and  more. This is the guy who produced Iggy Pop. This is the guy who made the suit cool again. He could take anything and make it cool. In Young Americans, he quotes the Beatles' A Day in the Life, creating elegant intertextuality and subtle commentary you just don't find in pop music every day. He wrote Heroes in German about the Berlin wall and translated it into English so we could all partake in his emotional journey about the tension between east and west. And the way he recorded that song is insane, but simple. He was over the top and minimalist at the same time. He wrote songs about space men playing them with acoustic guitars. He was everything an artist should strive to be, and managed humility. 

I'm sitting listening to Blackstar, his swan song. It was released on his birthday. Even in death, he was a transcendent artisan.

Jon Griffin Dies at the Age of 43

I didn't like Jon that much. He rolled with a crowd that I didn't fit into and didn't like me. But he was an artist and a dreamer. He was always into something artistic, showing up anywhere art was being done or sold, or late at night when streetlight people gathered at bars and lounges after the tourists were mostly gone. Everyone in town knew him.

His death saddens me. Yes, it's tragic to leave behind a toddling daughter, but that's not what I'm on about. It saddens me because here was this sensitive, artistic, dreaming, jerky soul that was snubbed out in America like he never had a chance. Too many people in my life have gone out like this. 

There's just no place for artists. They don't last long; they have too many natural predators. Heroin ended up getting Jon Griffin. This country has no patience for people with addiction. We treat it like a family secret, like a dark skeleton in the cellar who rattles inaudibly as we turn up the party music to drown out the racket. But I didn't even like Jon. I knew he was on the horse from time to time, but thought nothing of it and have no idea if anyone ever tried to help him. But I miss Jon Griffin.

A while back he started a gallery with some friends that quickly became a kind of all-ages, semi-illegal, underground rock club called GONE Studios. I didn't like GONE very much, but I ended up there from time to time, one of my best friends became an investor for a time, my band played there, and it helped spawn other art projects in town that were cool and interesting. My opinion always was, it's not for me, but I'm happy it exists. You need an underground art scene. You don't even know you need it, but you do. And it's going to be dirty, and smoky, and you're going to want to take a shower if you get into it for any length of time. Having lived in the underground art scene for huge chunks of my life, I didn't want to spend that much time with the people of GONE. Plus, there were drugs.

I've never been against drugs, but our attitude about them in this country is so myopic it's sickening. And maybe people like Jon wouldn't turn to them if there were a different attitude toward art in this country. Maybe Jon Griffin could have made ends meet if things were different. Maybe better access to grants, maybe cultural subsidies, maybe just a larger group of Americans who appreciate art and are willing to pay to support it. But who am I?

So you know how I felt about Jon while he lived, but I am deeply moved by his passing and filled with sorrow, too. And a lot of my friends loved him so much.