Wilde Expectations

When it's suggested to me that I should get out more often, I tell them to take the lead.

It's a Guy Thing: A Visit from Football Dumbo/Legend Daryl Sanders...at Facebook

WWW--I'm on Facebook a lot (no shit Sherlock), one of many reasons I rarely post on here anymore, besides the fact that...oh, never mind.

Any reader of this blog will know that I'm adamantly iconoclastic, that I hold no sacred cows and that slaughtering them is something I excel at. Football (not the EU version, the real deal) is an American obsession to the point of being nauseating. Like baseball, it very openly wraps itself in "Old Glory," and doing so is the last refuge of scoundrels. Yes, Hunter S. Thompson was just as obsessed and it was something I could never relate to with him. I see it as a failing on his part and that of many Americans, it is a drug, literally, to socialize as well as to anesthetize the public.

Like a lot of self-destructive American institutions, I hope to live to watch it also bite the dust, and it's a roundly corporate one. People having fun is one thing. This shit isn't fun, it's a pathology.

It would hardly be the first time were I to observe that American football is equivalent to the "bread and circuses" of the Roman empire, it's literally a cliche at this point and obvious, something to take for granted. It is a distraction, one-of-many, but it's served a very central part in shaping the public mind since the 1920s, and is an adjunct to jingoism with its over-emphasis on competition, machismo, and a Manichean (us vs. them, black & white, etc.) worldview. What's more, and has many others have observed, George Carlin being a noteworthy example, football pushes a military mentality and is a cultural avatar of militarization. Anyone watching the coverage of the first Gulf War on CNN will know what I'm writing about here, but that scoreboard mentality could just as easily be applied to the current conflicts America's now mired down in. It's all part of the same moronic, wrong-headed Americanism that got us into Vietnam.

I have never, for one moment, entertained the bullshit surrounding the sport and find it unbelievably boring, as much as going to church, and that's what it really amounts to (or doesn't). This is literally institutionalized nationalist barbarism. The rest of the world fears us over how pathologically feral we are as a nation thanks to these cultural roots, never mind our entertainment output, enough to scare any normal human being into paralysis. But we're not a normal culture at all, we're a sick one, a degenerated settler state like many others. It's no surprise, then, that a sport like football is so popular here, even supported over our museums and cultural centers that are actually frequented more often.

And so, into this mix came me...and some asshole I only heard of over the years: Daryl Sanders, professional flag waver. Amazingly, he can walk upright and read and write, but his trainers had to use negative reinforcement therapy for all of that. Somehow, some way, some retard on Facebook got his ire up and thought he'd tap the "champ" (chump, chimp) to confront me over my opinions of the recent deaths of a helicopter filled with professionally trained assassins in Afghanistan. I apparently wasn't showing enough "respect" to these Einsatzgruppen-clones and he posted a comment on my wall, which was nice of him.

Next week I'll ask him to get groceries, mow the lawn, he's a rock and apparently does widow, a rarity these days. A hero isn't some oddly-shaped lummox who chases a ball around a field, little FYI. A hero is someone like Pat Tillman, a real man who wanted to protect his country, but also a dedicated leftist who wanted to go to Afghanistan to bear witness. He knew where America had been and wasn't a little child like Sanders, he was a real hero who was probably slaughtered by his fellow soldiers for seeing too much, like the fellow who recently reported the "kill team," another real hero. Heroes don't follow illegal orders. The resist, from inside of the military, putting their lives on the line in the truest sense, for the common good and the good of humanity.

That was Patrick Tillman. I don't even know or care if dumbo ever served, but members of my family did, so don't even go there, sunshine patriots.

Some of this bullshit goes back to John Wayne, a Californian (the genocide state, look at their constitution) college athlete in the 1920s who excelled at football, so much so that he landed a movie contract since if there's anything Americans value, it's the sport. That's called having your priorities out of order. "Wayne" (not his real name) became a wrong-headed icon of American manhood, machismo, just like Daryl Sanders, a little boy who I have to assume still thinks the Vietnam War "was a good idea." He also supports the illegal and genocidal wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, our point of entry. Sanders told me that I "have an odd sense of right and wrong." Oh really? Someone should really air-drop this piece of shit there and see if his over-sized ass could even make it out alive.

The fact is, those assassins who were killed weren't heroes, they were mindless killers who are paid to murder human beings in the service of private power, something Tillman grasped, making him that rarest of things, an intelligent and reflective American football player. Perhaps that's why he's dead and Sanders is still alive and will die at a ripe, old age. Heroes--real ones--don't live to old age, like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The system here finds some way to eliminate them or to wreck their lives. Daryl's an obedient lapdog, and so his taking-up-space ass will probably continue on, contributing more sickness to our culture. He's a disgusting little man, a joke, a fraud, but then, so are most football players and phony patriots.

"Mr. Smiley" (product review)

PARENTAL WARNING: THIS REVIEW IS RIDDLED WITH SARCASM, SEND-UPS, BELITTLEMENT, AND SCORN FOR EVERYTHING. PROCEED WITH CAUTION...

With my first few tokes I wasn't expecting anything at all.

Not a buzz, certainly not a high, but I was surprised after around seven hits: this comes awfully close to being a lot like a marijuana buzz and high. Let's not get carried away, however. “Mr. Smiley” (which also goes by the monikers "K2" and "spice," among others) is one of those many enigmatic products littering our shelves and lives these days, and like most pharmaceuticals, it doesn't have a seal of approval from the now nearly defunct Food and Drug administration, created at the behest of the public and that communist, President Theodore Roosevelt, who, when he read an article citing slaughterhouse conditions uncovered by writer and muckraker Upton Sinclair (a socialist, say no more! The ignominy! The gall in caring about people and our nation, the temerity!) exclaimed over his breakfast on that fateful day in 1906 that, “I've been poisoned!” and indeed he had, but it was too late and a bad case of the trots was on his agenda for the evening.

Out of the kindness of his own Red heart, for his own Red heart's well-being, he ordered the creation of the communistic FDA. As we all know, life was never the same after that and an economic disaster ensued that reduced things to stone age conditions forever. A calamity of better health, nutrition, working conditions, and lower profits began to ruin America until very, very recently after all the Soviet Jews were run out of the federal bureaucracy on a rail, and replaced with nice people from the industries who merely want to feed us contaminated, ersatz foodstuffs and drugs at hyper-inflated prices. Truly, this has been part of our wonderful way of life...if you're one of the few within the saintly ranks of our Captains of Industry, men who have worked harder than all the sweatshop workers and illegal immigrant slaves combined!

Hype or reality?

Because Mr. Smiley is sold by different names and has evolved in different forms, most states have voted to ban the chemical compounds JWH-018 and JWH-073, synthetic compounds created by a Clemson University researcher to mimic the effects of cannabis on the brain.

According to published reports, the recipe to make those chemical compounds were eventually leaked to chemists in China, who began producing the compound and selling it as a marijuana substitute. By 2008, the synthetic marijuana began arriving on shelves in the United States, where it gained rapidly in popularity.

Because the compound is marketed as incense, it does not require Food and Drug Administration approval for sale and no long-term studies of its use have been completed.

"That's the thing, no one really knows how bad it is," Dieter said. "It may be much ado about nothing, but there's too much that we don't know about it."

It's also not known how popular synthetic marijuana truly is in South Bend. (City not smiling about Mr. Smiley," South Bend Tribune, 05.24.10)

Cry bitter tears for these poor men, brothers and sisters, because it's truly the White man's burden for them to sip champagne on the French Riviera while everyone else toils for them and consumes their toxic products that make our nation what it is: a gastrointestinal nightmare where the water supply is less-and-less safe and about to become privatized along with the air we breathe. Progress, indeed, has its price. But what of the “D” in the FDA, a communistic anagram if ever there was one? Yes, that other naughty word, besides the aforementioned “Jew,” the Satanic-infused word, “drug.” Yes, the FDA is responsible for marijuana still being off the lists as medicinally useful as well as a powerful narcotic, hence its persistence as an effective tool in throwing niggers and spics in prison when times are hard (and whites who "won't get with the program"). Poisoned by the free market?

Yes, haven't we all been after a little over a century later with the wacky-yet-divinely inspired wave of whipped-up sentiment to deregulate almost everything and to head willy-nilly towards the Maoist altar to Ayn Rand and the magazine stand erected to Lenin. Both are not-so-secretly adored by the GOP, secretly by mainstream Democratic leaders. Yes, the cranks have had their generation of fun, but the party's over, and it's time to pay the waiter...but all they have are Euros. What of Mr. Smiley? No, this isn't your grandfather's corn silk or Jimson weed, which you should never, ever smoke if you want to retain your ability to breathe or reason (potentially answering some of the question as to why rural voters shit where they eat) ever again, and besides, crank is for cranks these days.

According to my own eyes, the product has been sold at convenience stores and gas stations in my own part of the Midwest, namely, Northern Indiana and parts of Michigan. How does this product smoke? Very smoothly, I must say, and with an aftertaste that's very similar if not exactly like some decent Mexican weed, the so-so kind they leave for the rest of us and put on a NAFTA-approved semi-trailer bound for desperate potheads who will smoke literally anything to keep their buzz on. Mr. Smiley is made up of (according to the label, so it must be true...) TWO ingredients: “Damiana leaf” and “Mullein leaf extract,” about which I know very little, like high fructose corn syrup, glutemates, and all the other horseshit that manufacturers put into our food supply for reasons that would only make sense to a Soviet bureaucrat. You'll forgive the last contradiction, but this is being written by a product of the American educational system, also patterned after the factory model, so bear with us on this.

First ingredient, Mullein leaf: This is often used as an herbal treatment for asthma! Is it safe? Yes it is, and it is sometimes known to cause a sense of drowsiness, like marijuana, and it's also an expectorant like that Weed of Satan. It's a mild sedative in some people, a common side-effect. It's sold by herbalist outlets in greater quantities than the less-than-an-ounce (one gram) little dispenser that Mr. Smiley comes in. In other words, it's significantly cheaper in larger quantities elsewhere. You can even buy it by-the-pound from Amazon.com.

Second ingredient, Damiana leaf: This is roughly the same deal. You can buy it off the Internet easily, and in quantity for a very low amount of money. Effects? In women, it's allegedly a “natural aphrodisiac,” meaning that it's bullshit and doesn't work at all in that area or most others claimed by those who sell it. Ask a botanist or a pharmacologist. You know: people who are evil communist scientists (the evil "Dr. Yakub" from the Nation of Islam's cosmology) or "fill-in-the-blank" since they have the temerity to be factually correct, trumping one's ego and personal narrative. Interestingly, Damiana lowers blood glucose levels like marijuana does when ingested or smoked, though it's more commonly ingested in tinctures and extracts. It might have psychoactive properties in some people. Sounds like snake oil bullshit, doesn't it?

So, how did “Mr. Smiley” become a “product”? Because some douche-nozzles sat around one day (as most asshole entrepreneurs have in the past in America, and the disease has been exported) trying to figure-out how they could get people to buy something they never wanted, needed, and could buy cheaper and assemble its constituents themselves, and then make a good profit. Take the money and run. There is no product code on the product. There is no address either. There is no Internet address. Yes, “Mr. Smiley” “works,” but you could save yourself a lot of time and money and simply buy its ingredients online for much cheaper, in larger quantities, and put these banal free market crackheads out of business along with the legitimate heat they're getting from the Police. But is it even safe?

Rumors--and that's all that they are so far--are saying that the substance is dangerous. How do they know? That said, I wouldn't advise anyone to buy or smoke it, and I only inhaled enough to see if there was indeed a buzz to be had. There is. Other rumors state that it's being packaged in China, though no evidence is forthcoming on that claim. One thing's certain: by pasting the story all over the Internet, TV, radio, and the like throughout Michiana, every kid in the region who would want to know about the fake drug will now, and they could very well end up finding it, online in one form or another. This has been facilitated by both the local political establishment, the Police, and what's left of the press. Thanks, assholes. Why not just let the kids smoke pot? We know it's not going to hurt them and that the FDA's stance on the substance is a purely political one. Do not taunt Mr. Smiley...

Grade: An “C-” for the fact that it works, and an “F” for them being typical hustler/grifter douche-nozzle fucks.

http://www.southbendtribune.com/article/20100524/News01/5240337/1130

http://www.southbendtribune.com/article/20100519/News01/100519346/0/FRONTPAGE

Nowhere special: South Bend, Indiana

Ed.--Here are a few photos I took of the town I live in. The photo to the top right shows the building in which John Dillinger, Homer Van Meter and Baby Face Nelson robbed the Merchant's Bank on June 30, 1934, to the left of the front-end of the car in the center of the shot, a building with arches and a tall front. It's now a Cambodian restaurant. The building to the bottom left was once an outlet of the Chicago Stock Exchange, or at least that's what I've been led to believe. The State Theater was featured in some shots of the Party Monster "Shockumentary" that was aired on Cinemax in 1998, about South Bend native and club kid promoter Michael Alig. There hasn't been a hell of a lot going on here since Studebaker closed in 1964.

DEVO: Chicago, the Vic. 11.13.2009, 8 PM Night Two-Freedom of Choice (review)

Chicago, Illinois--Last night's Chicago performance was a barn burner for the many Midwestern fans of DEVO, itself being a Midwestern band going back to the early 1970s. As a matter of fact, the members of DEVO met at Kent State University during the Vietnam War era, some were members of SDS, and bassist Gerald Casale helped organize the antiwar demonstration in the spring of 1970 in which the infamous shootings took place. If you stay in the Midwest long enough, you get as weird as these guys or weirder, mostly from boredom.

Far from being "nerds," or "yuppies," DEVO began as a multimedia arts collective and still operates as one to this day. The real irony in all of this is that they never broke up and have continued to record in their Sunset Strip "Mutato" studio doing soundtrack and commercial work, the most well known being with director Wes Anderson.

Like several other old school punk and postpunk bands that have been touring this year--like the Pixies and even R.E.M.--the spuds were doing entire albums live and in their original running order. Night one was "Are We Not Men?" from 1978 (a punk classic) which sold out so quickly that another night was added to their Chicago appearance. Night two brought the entire "Freedom of Choice" LP from 1980, and yes, "Whip It" was in full bloom with all of its punch and glory. The music hasn't aged and the entire original lineup looked healthier and happier than they have in--well--over a decade, and the mood was celebratory, even for Chicago. From the opening guitar-riffs of "Girl U Want" to the more obscured album cuts like "Gates of Steel" and Mr. B's Ballroom," there was a real sense that this music hasn't aged at all...which was interesting since there were probably no more than maybe two dozen twenty-somethings to be seen. The majority of the crowd was 30-and-up, and with the bar, it was an 18-and-older show. But what the hell, people are broke all over the place these days! The audience was more fun than people watching at Wal-Mart. The icing on the cake was the gorgeous Bettie Page-style model coming out with her boxing-round cards emblazoned with "Track 1," and so on.

Some of the best times I had was looking at all of the former New Wave glam queens, now in their forties and early fifties, but still looking pretty good! Many concertgoers literally hadn't seen the group since the 1980s, or if they were like this writer it was their first time ever. The merchandising will be legendary, but there was nothing especially crass about it and it all appeared to have been made in America. All said, it was exactly what you would have wanted out of a DEVO concert and that includes Mark Mothersbaugh coming out onstage and singing "Beautiful World" in the second set dressed as the utterly grotesque "Boojie Boy," then regaling the audience in a totally surreal account of DEVO's trek to Los Angeles and meeting Michael Jackson, that he was dead, and how great it would be if he could rise from the grave like in the video "Thriller" to tell us all "what a beautiful world it truly is." The brutal truth was that there was no irony to be had!

But really, having been a budding teenager listening to Freedom of Choice when it was new, this was just a real road to Mecca moment, pure bliss. Not only is DEVO still great, they're professional and can still stop on a dime. Most of these guys are hitting their sixties, but the joy and the appreciation were so palpable that Mark Mothersbaugh, and even Gerald Casale, could only smile along with the rest of us and enjoy a very special tour in a very unique cultural moment. One of the greatest surprises of the evening was the dusting-off of a very old DEVO song, "Be Stiff," going back to the mid-1970s, almost one of the earliest songs that they ever did. Hey, they weren't going to do "Oh No! It's DEVO!" (1982) or "Shout!" (1984). Here's to art and crowd pleasers! Whoever said you can't have both in art was wrong.

"It's a coup!": Some more reflections on the Wall Street bailout reactions

"When small men begin to cast big shadows,
it means that the sun is about to set."
--Lin Yutang

WWW--It was coming from Michael Moore, Naomi Wolf, and from all-points-in-between on the political spectrum back at the end of this last September and October: the bailout of Wall Street was a coup because "we're all being robbed," case closed. That we're all being robbed is a certainty, but a coup? I still keep hearing this weird contention, yet I'm not seeing any proof that any of the players being bailed-out are different ones.

Why should we care if it's the same people? Because that's one of the main preconditions of a coup--someone else has to be in-charge, replacing the last group. What coup? It doesn't fit the definition, yet you have progressives and conservatives screaming one has occurred all over the place. Was there one? Well, yes, ages ago, and they missed it. They're making strange sounds over this, and I wanted to know why, and I've given it a lot of thought and reached a few tentative conclusions.

My belief: people like Michael Moore have had major investments on Wall Street like many of us have had (not me, however!), and that includes folks like Arianna Huffington, Al Franken, much of the wider society, and maybe even a few investigative journalists and media-outlet owners out there. But aren't they begging the question? That was my feeling back in September, and it still is, with a few more historical reflections.

Now, if you lost your ass on Wall Street and you heard that others were being bailed-out--and you weren't--wouldn't you be freaking-out and yelling too? Sure you would, and if you had a soapbox bigger than everyone else's, you'd use it, right? Perhaps. This shouting that the first bailout of the banks was a "coup" by some of these celebrities across the political spectrum reminded me of someone from our past: Father Charles E. Coughlin, the radio priest.

Today, most Americans have no idea who Coughlin was, but you could say that he was one-part Rush Limbaugh, one-part Michael Moore, and one-part Joseph Goebbels. Yes, this is about the 1930s and the Great Depression, what else would it be about? Coughlin was originally from Ontario, Canada and had confronted a group of the KKK who had tried to burn his church in an act of anti-Catholic hate, so he began with "progressive" and populist credentials. At the dawn of the Great Depression, Coughlin sounded like a voice of reason to many, and they supported him with money and activism. He went as far as founding a short-lived political party, the NUSJ (The National Union for Social Justice), and was most popular with Irish-Catholics during the 1930s, but had a much wider appeal.

Incredibly, he and Gerald L.K. Smith (a lieutenant of Huey Long) could be fairly credited with creating the white supremacist movement. How did it end up that way? From frustrated populist aspirations and a deep disdain for Western-style capitalism. Some people react dysfunctionally to social injustice because they're terminal racists. Where did it all begin for the "radio priest"?

Father Coughlin's American parish in Royal Oak, Michigan began doing radio broadcasts of his sermons sometime in 1926 out of Detroit's radio station WJR, the beginning of the radio age. It has been calculated that Coughlin had a listenership-peak of as many as 40 million, an incredible number for its time. Coughlin was radically populist one moment in his speeches, backing Roosevelt completely one day, and then making remarks totally against the New Deal the next depending on which way the political winds were blowing at the moment. For him--as with Limbaugh--it was all about ratings. In this respect, little has changed since the 1930s, but he accidentally pushed FDR further to the left, so he had some value.

While Coughlin was railing against Wall Street, he was heavily invested in it at a time when almost nobody in the general population was. Who had money then? Demagogues like Charles Coughlin, that's who; the radio priest was getting rich slamming Wall Street, from his appeals for donations, and his weekly radio program's advertising revenue. Unbeknownst to most Americans, by the mid-1930s, Father Coughlin was one of the largest holders of silver in America. In other words, he was a hypocrite in most respects, and vanity assured his fall. Coughlin began with very enthusiastic support of FDR's New Deal programs, but by 1934 he started having political aspirations of his own and began bitterly attacking Roosevelt and his policies. He also began broadcasting and writing anti-Semitic remarks and began his love affair with Continental fascism and the Nazi State.

By 1938, he reprinted the Tsarist secret police (Okhrana) forgery, The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion in his own newsletter, "Social Justice," and was witnessed at a Bronx speaking- engagement doing the fascist salute. It was all downhill after that, as radio stations stopped carrying his programs and the Roosevelt administration moved on him to curb his ability to disseminate first his radio programs, then his newspaper and related literature through the postal system. By 1942, with his support of Nazism all-but-complete, Coughlin became a marginalized laughingstock, and went back to his tiny Royal Oak parish to live out the rest of his life in relative obscurity.

Interstingly, he had connections with a domestic fascist group called the "Christian Front," who plotted to overthrow the government of the United States. He never renounced his connection to them.

I don't think Michael Moore is exactly the same kind of creature as Coughlin, and this isn't some attempt to smear him with the same brush at all, because it's not accurate or fair. But there are a lot of parallels between his life and that of Coughlin, and he's not alone. New communications media have empowered many individuals in the last two decades like never before, and with that access comes the same kinds of issues that arose during the 1930s, a time when radio was first emerging as a force. But the cries of "coup" smack of similar hypocrisies that people like Coughlin once engaged in. One might ask such celebrities like Limbaugh and Moore (or even "conspiracy" writers/activists like Alex Jones) what their holdings on Wall Street are today. You might get a very surprising answer indeed, even with the contemporary prevalence of investment.

Now is definitely a time of demagogues, but the question is: "Who are they exactly? Who are the demagogues?" Rush Limbaugh and most of the right-wing noise machine certainly fit that bill, but there are others out there, right now, waiting for their time. Intellectual honesty is as good an inoculation as you're likely to get, a proactive solution for the ages.

Republican Rep. Steve Austria is perhaps the stupidest human being drawing breath on this rock called earth

Ohio--Is there something in the water in the state of Ohio? Is it a bad gene pool? Are human beings really this unimaginably--just wait, it can get worse--stupid? If you're a Republican who holds this utterly bizarre viewpoint that flies-in-the-face of accepted reality, you might be a victim of being an Ohioan and a Midwesterner who breathes through their mouth in public.

Austria doesn't have all of these excuses to hide behind, however, and since I assume that he can eat without stabbing himself in the face with his fork every time, so he must have been lying, the curse of the GOP, its wont.

The problem is, not everyone is as stupid as the GOP's core-base...well, what's left of it, meaning religious lunatics, racists, free market extremists, and others in the ranks of the hopelessly irrational and confused. Don't get me wrong, we have this kind of moron living in Indiana and other parts where completely irrational people live, right here in these here U-nited States.

Austria (not the country) spake:

"When (President Franklin) Roosevelt did this, he put our country into a Great Depression," Austria said. "He tried to borrow and spend, he tried to use the Keynesian approach, and our country ended up in a Great Depression. That's just history." ("U.S. Rep Austria blames Depression on Roosevelt," Columbus Dispatch, 02.10.2009)

What's astounding is that freshman Rep. Austria told this to the editorial board of the Columbus Dispatch. But really: does anyone believe that FDR caused the Great Depression...really? I don't think so, not really. They might say that they do, but they don't, just like the flat-earthers and liars trying to prey on the truly desperate and ignorant poor, the subproletariat. Illiterate rednecks and Oakies. This is odd, since most of them don't vote...

But that's why Austria back-peddled the very same day:

"I did not mean to imply in any way that President Roosevelt was responsible for putting us into the Depression, but rather was trying to make the point that Roosevelt's attempt to use significant spending to get us out of the Depression did not have the desired effect. Roosevelt did not put us into the Depression, but rather his policies could not pull the nation out of the recession." ("Rep. Austria gets right with history: FDR didn't start Depression," Columbus Dispatch, 02.11.2009)

Actually, he's wrong again--we were still in a Depression until we entered WWII. New Deal policies continued during and after the war, even after being under vicious attack from the Republican Party, the national Chamber of Commerce, the National Association of Manufacturers, etc., during the immediate postwar era and McCarthyism.

LBJ expanded New Deal programs significantly during his time in office, and the American dream as we know it was able to grow under the Bretton-Woods system. WWII took us out of the Great Depression? Fine, but that's also Keynesianism, military Keynesianism. We know from decades of an already bloated military budget that that route isn't going to work, and that there is no one panacea that's going to fix things.

If we weren't one of the most powerful nations on earth, this would merely be laughable, a real hoot. To some extent it is, but this moron can actually vote on legislation that affects us all, including the authorization for war.

Small wonder that we're still bogged-down in the Middle East in pointless occupation, our economy is collapsing thanks to a lack of proper oversight and regulation of the financial and business sectors, our schools, bridges, roads, and health care system are collapsing, we cannot compete internationally in business like we once did, when ethically challenged morons elect ethically challeneged morons. The mess we're in couldn't have happened without representatives like Steve Austria, the 6 trillion dollar man, a man barely alive.

The good news? These particular morons are becoming isolated demographically and by the objective, real world failure of their most cherished beliefs and ideologies. This is the end of Reaganism, the end of faux conservatism and neoliberalism. The game is over, and even a moral imbecile like Steve Austria understands that not only isn't history on his side, the facts aren't either.

This kind of desperation is symptomatic of a dying party, the Republican Party, a party without any identity, answers, or ideology left. But they all have one thing left from the good old days, after everything has been scraped-away by the events of this historical moment: bunch of hollow, self-serving arguments that a ten-year-old could deconstruct and dismantle in around 30 seconds flat.

If you don't like it in America, then go back to Austria, he'll steer you wrong. That'll learn 'ya.

"U.S. Rep Austria blames Depression on Roosevelt," Columbus Dispatch, 02.10.2009: http://www.dispatchpolitics.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2009/02/10/copy/caproos.html?adsec=politics&sid=101

"Rep. Austria gets right with history: FDR didn't start Depression," Columbus Dispatch, 02.11.2009: http://www.dispatchpolitics.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2009/02/11/copy/AUSTRIA_RECANTS.ART_ART_02-11-09_B8_0PCS8TG.html?adsec=politics&sid=101

You know you're from/in South Bend when...

You know you're from/in South Bend when you've missed every major social and cultural movement in the last forty years. Just sayin'!

You know you're from/in South Bend when you criticize aspects of it openly and are asked, "You from around here?"

You know you're from/in South Bend when Bobcat Goldthwait remarks how economically depressed it is at a show here, and it's when times were good.

You know you're from South Bend when you tell someone from another part of America you're from here, they don't understand, and you break down and say "Notre Dame." Then--and only then--do they "get" it.

You know you're in South Bend when the most exciting thing happening is a house on fire.

You know you're in South Bend when you realize that the most entertaining thing are the Snyders and the redneck disaster area that is Roseland, Indiana.

You know you're from/in South Bend when you realize that we have the finest homeless shelter in almost the entire continental United States, and that that's not necessarily a good thing.

You know you're from/in South Bend when 98% of the people you encounter here assume you're: Catholic, Polish, and a Notre Dame fan. Sydney Pollack was right.

You know you're from/in South Bend when you're aware that the poet James Whitcomb Riley lived here and that 99% of the local population do not.

You know you're from South Bend when you read the newspapers and read about the weekly drive-bys.

You know you're from/in South Bend when you see grown-men wearing spandex-tights that looked stupid in the 80s.

You know you're from/in South Bend when the South Bend Symphony Orchestra has yet to play very much 20th century music, and the 20th century is over. But, that's why you never go to see them, like everyone else.

You know you're from/in South Bend when most of the major industries here are housed in museums.

You know you're from/in South Bend when you're watching the outtakes from "This is Spinal Tap" and you notice that a character from South Bend is in it...and they're a total dork and a moron.

You know you're from/in South Bend when you realize very little ever changes here, and that Black people are almost the only people worth knowing. But: a beautiful place, just avoid the public and you'll be OK.

Marcus Schrenker, evil genius

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"--W.B. Yeats, "The Second Coming (Slouching towards Bethlehem)."

Indiana--We've topped the 1920s in every respect. Once, dumb formerly-rich people used to jump out of windows, off of ledges, or off of bridges. This was fine, and it had the dignified sense of not leaving such a mess. Schrenker wasn't from aristocratic-stock--he couldn't be, he's leaving too much of a mess.

Things are more complicated these days: Now, crooked and unlucky businessmen get into a plane, radio in a false distress signal, bail-out (pun intended), hit the chute, then somehow head North 225 miles to a pre-picked location in Alabama...to a waiting, rented motorcycle at a rental storage shed, and they disappear. See simple jumping-off a ledge is? They were smarter in "good-old-days." This guy wanted to be Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, to be able to enjoy the fruits of being dead without all the hassle. Who can blame him when it's "fight or flight"?

Having lost a Federal District case against one of his wealth management firms in Maryland, and knowing his assets were going to be frozen after December 31st, the time had come to face the music. Maybe read Twain in High School, but I'd imagine the lessons were lost on him. Anyway, his wife wisely left the schmuck before the events that began on Sunday...

This guy reminds me of all the morons I had to endure in college, and not people that I knew directly back then, but the business majors and that curious species known as the free market advocate, the Young Republican, the Chamber of Commerce cardholder, but really, the eventual businessman. Schrenker was this last sort of individual, a real card, no doubt, and he never really became a "real"one. Being stupid hurts, and Schrenker appears to have been "the stupidest guy in the room."

At 38, Marcus Schrenker is a creature I've met and know all too well. If you've ever had the misfortune of working for someone like him or entrusted your investments with his used car salesman (future politicians) ilk, you have my sincere sympathy and condolences. I'm sure you want that part of your life back too. Schrenker is that special kind of Midwestern jackass--the boss and petit bourgeois personality who thinks that they're a god after they've made their first $1,000,000 (after taxes). Frequently, they start out in fast food, but that's a story for another time.

Yes, yes, I'm "just jealous"--it's true--but these folks know everything. Just ask them, but it's going to take a time machine to do it now, the hang-dogs. That's just how the market crashes, that'll learn ya'.

Time machine? No problem. The Republican Party has violated most human laws, so why not the laws of physics? They appear willing and able. Yes, some people have a "funny" way of not thinking, and it's not just me. But hey, Schrenker (say it fast, win a prize!) could fly an airplane, he just couldn't run a sustainable business, that's all, no big deal. Perhaps he might have focused on his flying-abilities as a career--just a thought--but the former-business aspirant is at least getting more air and sunlight and experiencing some self-actualization.

Funnier still, I'm familiar with the city he took-off from--blessed Anderson, Indiana--which is not exactly the kind of town fit for human life (nearby Muncie isn't either), but a great place to build a Church (CHOGS occupy the town), discriminate against a Black person on the way home from work, or burn a cross on those hot weekends when the nits are biting. That the people there have almost no real culture, personality, taste, or intelligence, is a given, but not atypical of Indiana. Hey, at least it's a place where one has plenty of time to contemplate. But Anderson is a squalid town in a squalid part of the Hoosier state. Expect it to die almost entirely with the American auto industry along with a whole string of similarly stagnant Midwestern towns.

As is well known by now, Marcus Schrenker's Icon Group ( along with his other "wealth" mismanagement "firms") was under an Indiana Securities Fraud investigation, partly because the fun is over with George W. Bush and most of the GOP leaving office, the other part because what goes up, must come down when you're selling lies and air. He chartered an airplane and flew it out of Anderson on Sunday, January 11th, ostensibly to fly down to Destin, Florida. Schrenker radioed a distress signal over Birmingham, Alabama. Unsurprisingly, he'd already rented a storage shed in Harpersville on that Saturday and placed a Yamaha motorcycle with loaded saddlebags. Maybe he's in Mexico by now.

Unlike during 9/11, military interceptors had actually been sent up promptly to--uh--intercept his plane; they got close to the aircraft before its crash, noting that a side-panel door was open and that nobody was inside, fancy that. FAA authorities authorized that the plane be safely put onto autopilot so that it could crash in an unpopulated area, God bless them. It was just one more mess left by the business community that law enforcement authorities are going to have to clean-up, an era of the lie. Lies are what this story is all about.

Like most of his life--and the lives and values of the average Indiana businessman--it was all a sad lie. He probably lied about the orgasms too. Schrenker wrote his neighbor Tom Britt: "I embarrassed my family for the last time. By the time you read this I'll be gone. ..."Hypoxia can cause people to make terrible decisions and I simply put on my parachute and survival gear and bailed out. [I] just made a 2 million dollar mistake...I did not tell them [the Alabama Police] about what happened as I was embarrassed and scared." You could take the email at face value, and his comments to Britt are still going to be ridden with half-truths and outright lies. Of course he'll embarrass his family again. No, this not is amazing, and the full original must read like a Burroughs-Gysin cut-up thanks to its twisted logic.

What's not amazing is that Schrenker is clearly a pathological liar who cannot stop lying whether it benefits him or not, even in an ostensible "suicide note." He premeditatively bought the rental shed, put an also rented motorcycle in it, and is presumably riding it right now after his escape from the very stupid Alabama Police whom he earlier lied to, telling them he'd been in a canoe accident. Exactly how do you get into a canoe accident and only end-up wet up to your knees? I would have noticed this, but I'm just being observant here. Unfair, I know. At that previous moment in Childersberg, he was 225 miles from the scene of the plane wreck in Florida.

Schrenker bailed-out (pun intended) of his plane D.B. Cooper-style (Cooper was smarter) and probably landed in a Florida swamp thanks to a trusty parachute he'd packed. There's every reason to believe he had some kind of vehicle waiting down there as he did in Alabama. The problem is, he didn't figure-in the fact that the FAA would take it all very seriously, or the fact that those investigating him were going put the word out there on him, that he was fleeing. Now, Federal Marshals are looking for him and he's left a very good trail for them to follow.

Now, in this, the final week of the Bush II administration, the SEC and numerous other state, municipal, and federal law enforcement investigators can untie their hands for the first time in eight years and actually start shooting all the ducks in the mostly GOP-constructed barrel.

Schrenker is just a footnote, but his behavior has made him a noteworthy coda to an era of unparalleled business corruption under the Republican Party's stewardship. He is a clown, but he's not the only one wearing a suit-and-tie and doing the ordering. Marcus Schrenker isn't likely to kill himself, he's too much of an egomaniac, he loves his ass too much.

Postscript, 01.14.2008: Told you so. He couldn't carry it out properly, and he embarrassed himself and his family again. Yes, he tried to kill himself by cutting his wrist, but you cannot be half-pregnant, he failed again. "dual personality" my ass, he was liar who led a double life, end of story. Good riddance to Reaganism, it's over folks, praise God.

$$$ In hoc signo vinces. $$$...

"Schrenker's wife issues statement," WTHR (NBC), Indianapolis, 01.14.2008:

http://www.wthr.com/Global/story.asp?S=9672899&nav=menu188_2_8

"Delta filings unveiled adviser's shaky record," AP, 01.14.2008: http://www.ajc.com/services/content/printedition/2009/01/14/planeside.html

"Wanted pilot's life had been falling apart," AP, 01.14.2008: http://www.ajc.com/services/content/printedition/2009/01/14/planecrash.html


The statement from Michelle Schrenker's counsel:

"Michelle first contacted me this past summer to discuss a divorce from her husband because he was having an affair. At the time, she wanted to work on reconciling with her husband. However, he continued his affair and, as a result, on December 30, 2008, she filed a petition for dissolution of her marriage to Marcus Schrenker. Her decision to file for divorce was based on her husband's infidelity and in no way was based on the investment fraud of which he is accused. In fact, Michelle first learned of the allegations against him when, on December 31, 2008, the police and investigators came to her door to search her home. To Michelle's dismay, at the time her home was being searched, Marcus was in Florida with his girlfriend.

Clearly, Michelle and her three young children are victims of this man's deceitfulness as well. She is not guilty of anything other than trusting her husband of 13 years. Everyone should remember that Michelle and her children are suffering through a terrible time right now. Through no fault of their own, they are having to deal with the repercussions of this man's behavior and will be doing so for a long time to come."

Congratulations Senator Burris

The Midwest--Welcome to the Senate, congrats! And congrats to Governor Rod Blagojevich, don't let them take you without the ugliest fight in American political history (too late). Good show, and I'm sure that there's more to this whole media story than anyone would imagine. Congratulations.

Rod Blagojevich-3, The Illinois Legislature/Rahm Emanuel-0

Because that's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it.

Ron Asheton (1948-2009)

Ann Arbor, Michigan--Last night, it was announced that Ron Asheton, primary guitarist for the proto-punk group the Stooges, had died. Apparently, Asheton had been dead for a few days of natural causes. He was 60.

Asheton, James Osterberg (Iggy Pop), and Scott Asheton formed the nucleus of the Stooges from 1967-1974 when the band imploded over a lack of interest and the vagaries of heroin-addiction. There's nothing like that first time hearing their three albums from that era, it's a stunning experience, and nobody has sounded quite like them, either before or since.

My own personal favorite album is "Fun House," from 1970, which still sounds like the future. The Stooges were the "sister" group of the politically radical MC5, a band whose ranks have been decimated since 1991 with the death of lead-singer Rob Tyner.

Ron Asheton's place in rock and music history as an influential guitarist is secure. While too many lousy garage bands were spawned from his style (which really, was inimitable), those rare successes were worth it, from Killing Joke, to Minor Threat, to groups like the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and even Joy Division, Asheton's style has and will continue to endure.

He was an unsung-part of punk, one of the true founding fathers of what was once a viable and important musical form, and he sat on the sidelines while others made a fortune copping his style. Asheton was beyond mere punk rock, a cultural form that ossified long ago. That's been over for a long-time, and now it's truly over. In 2007, the Stooges released what will be their final album, "The Weirdness," barring another barrage of "unreleased" material. Anything else will be posthumous, after-the-fact. It's barely known to most, but Ann Arbor and the environs of Detroit produced the earliest forms of what's known today as punk rock. That was forty-years-ago.

Think what you want of the Midwest, but we've produced a lion's share of relevant American culture over the last 100 years. Rest in peace, Ronnie, it should have been Ted Nugent. Three albums that changed the world: "The Stooges" (1969, produced by the Velvet Underground's John Cale), "Funhouse" (1970), and "Raw Power" (1973).

Postscript, 01.08.2009--NPR corrected itself today at the end of a program, noting that they had played a song from "Raw Power," which Asheton only played bass on. The main guitarist at that time was James Williamson, who last reported, was a business executive. So, NPR did an outro of "I Wanna Be Your Dog," which became incredibly subversive with the voiceover of all the contributors (money) to the show. I didn't expect anyone at NPR to know the difference, but they tried, they tried.

Our dying mainstream media: Asking the wrong questions about the Blagojevich scandal, so you don't have to!

WWW--"How will this scandal affect Barack Obama?" asks the television news outlets over and over again, like a chorus in nearly perfect unison. Is that the real question we should be asking? It's one of them, but being the smart ass I am, I have to ask this:

How does the Blagojevich scandal affect President George W. Bush's and Vice President Richard Cheney's chances of being impeached and/or criminally prosecuted for greater crimes?

This is no less a "trick" or a "loaded question" than the one asking how Blagojevich's charges are going to affect President-elect Obama.

OK, got that? Great, have nice day, you've got some thinking to do. Cognitive dissonance hurts, I know, so be patient.

Illnois Governor Rod Blagojevich's arrest today

Chicago, Illinois--Let the chips fall where they may, I have no sentimentality for the Democratic Party of Illinois, or otherwise.

You have to wonder if Blagojevich knew Fitzgerald was closing in on him when he went down to the Republic Windows and Doors plant to announce his solidarity with them and also stating that he was doing the almost unprecedented act of halting all business with Bank of America in the state of Illinois until they were compensated.

I think he really did know it was over. Yes, I believe he's guilty, but these are also very peculiar times, one never knows.

What Blagojevich didn't know was what else to do but try to appeal to the people directly, it was all he had left, surveying what might have been. He may continue to do so. If he felt this way, it was too late, as it usually is with scoundrels. He leaves a sad legacy.

What does this event tell us? That corruption is a bipartisan affair. And let's be honest--this is Chicago at its finest, this is what keeps the place going. I don't believe Obama had anything to do with Blagojevich's actions.

Why anyone's shocked by his language in the wiretap transcripts is beyond me. Listen to the JFK tapes, LBJ's, and Nixon's. "Cocksucker" is a favorite, including several variations of "fuck." Like everyone else, they're human beings with all of the same frailties. Remember that due process should be honored in all of this. As hard as it might be for us to believe, the GOP didn't invent corruption and they're not the only ones engaging in it. Let the chips fall where they may, although the evidence appears solid.

One thing's certain in all of this: Rod Blagojevich has always had strange hair. His "alliance" with labor will be seized-upon by GOP and Chamber of Commerce cockroaches, but none of it will matter because he's the one who blew it. His visit to Republic Windows must have presented him with a picture of "what might have been" watching the real solidarity of workers engaged in a sit-down strike. Then he went on to his last hours as Governor of Illinois, before his new status as a "perp."

At 6 a.m., the FBI made their courtesy call. "Is this a joke?" he asked. No, no joke, said the FBI. Look, he had to check. Wouldn't you? Will Rod Blagojevich contemplate how it all came to this? All the tireless years of effort to reach the position of governor? Will he reflect on how all of his supporters over the years are going to feel? Nah, but since he's not a Republican, he's going to be intelligent enough to resign shortly.

President-elect Obama appears to be coming out clean in all of this so far. This all has a ring of "Huey Long" to it, just another broken human dream while others emerge into reality, a shadow on cave walls of what might have been. Blagojevich acting Populist at the very end is both sad and tantalizing, and begs the question, "Why not all of the time?" Blagojevich's possible exposure is part of the answer.

Why shouldn't the governor of a state side with the workers of that state for the common good, and why isn't this more common? The answer is in the workers of Republic Windows and Doors--they stood up and demanded just the things they were owed, which sets them apart from the rest of us and Blagojevich. The governor wanted more, much more, than he was due, and now the GOP are having their brief moment where they're not running their cha-cha line into the courts over corruption charges.

Obama's endorsement of the Republic Windows and Doors sit-down is historic

Chicago, Illinois--Just as FDR finally relented in 1935 and backed the right of the UAW, the CIO and other national unions to legally organize and recruit, Obama's support of this strike is a very real step forward. The passage of the National Labor Relations Act of 1935 was a momentous step in our history that guaranteed the legal right of collective bargaining with ownership, and the right is being reaffirmed. There's nothing "socialist" or "communist" about this, the desire for workplace democracy is as American as apple pie.

It could only have happened because the workers--the laid-off no less--of that factory said, "No more, we want what's due to us."They've used their collective-heads and found that they aren't cowards and that they have guts. There really is strength-in-numbers, which is why employers in this country have done their best to keep us all divided. This is because they were always redundant.

The business in Chicago was shuttered giving Republic workers just three days notice, rather than the sixty required by law. Bank of America now holds the debts and obligations of the company but won't pay them. Republic's "bankrupt" owners appear to be in-hiding.

Several politicians have smelled the opportunity that escapes the average American, and have come down to show their solidarity with the workers there who are getting stiffed out of their benefits. Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich has also thrown-in, stating that Bank of America is under a statewide business injunction until Republic workers receive these benefits.

...We have contacted all of our agencies across state government and as of right now, every agency has been ordered to suspend doing any business with the Bank of America. The Bank of America received $25 billion in taxpayer money as part of the financial bailout. This is exactly, precisely the kind of thing that isn’t right -- when one the one hand, powerful special interests get the help of taxpayer money to bail them out -- the banks -- and yet the purpose of that money was supposed to be to provide a line of credit to businesses like this to keep workers working and keep people employed. And yet the Bank of America has yet to step up and say that they are going to be helpful to this company and keep these workers working. ...

This all sounds like the 1930s again, doesn't it? It's almost been that long since any American governor would dare to say such things towards the business sector. Unionization is coming back, bigger and better than ever, it's coming, and it's time to recognize the opportunities. Make it happen if you want a future. Many of the Republic Window and Door employees are Hispanic, and the UEW (United Electrical Workers) is doing a very good job indeed in lending their support. Solidarity must continue to cross racial and cultural-lines.

In this mix, Obama's endorsement is a very refreshing breath of air, it's going to have a very big impact. He's set himself up for a follow-through. Being the party of big business, the GOP will do their best to ensure he doesn't do this, because the last thing they ever want to do is assist the American worker in anything but emptying their wallets without too much fuss.

On the Chicago sit down occupation at Republic Windows and Doors

Chicago, Illinois--I'm sorry, but I hate this city, it sucks. But it's going to suck a lot worse there if more working-class Americans don't start standing up to power and the banks as these folks at the Republic Windows and Doors plant are.

Already, the comparisons to the 1936-37 Flint, Michigan sit down strike are coming, and they're becoming apt. The time to hit employers and ownership is here, and the fist is beginning to clench again when the options of apathy and complacency are gone. Habits die hard, people tend to prefer to be told what to do, but that's ending anyway. Fear is the great controller, but how many cars was anyone buying during the Great Depression? Who was buying them? The workers struck anyway, for their futures and for their families.

You know, nobody important: just our grandparents and parents, because history affects others, and never ourselves. Americans are also being stripped of this convenient attitude by events.

Most Americans think that in a major economic downturn they're even more expendable, that they have even less leverage. This is, flatly-put, utterly wrong and defeatist thinking that we've all been conditioned to. It's in times like this that employers are most vulnerable, and it's in these kinds of environments that workers must start hitting them where they live and demanding more, much-much more.

In the case of the Republic Windows workers, they're getting shafted by the creditors of the company, a name that should sound familiar: Bank of America, recipient of $25 billion in bailout money. How is any of this going to "fix" the economy?

No, these workers should remain there until this is sorted-out in an amicable way. If it isn't, they have to weigh their options. Drama is a very real possibility.

Most of the workers at the factory are Hispanic-Americans. The majority of them were unionized under the UEW (United Electrical Workers), whose leadership are aiding in the fight and negotiations with the now-bankrupt company. The real problem right now appears to be Bank of America, meaning a very real and dramatic confrontation could be coming between them and the UEW.

The time has come for a new step in the history of the labor struggle, and once again, Chicago is center stage. One Big Union.

From the Blough family vaults: A dirty postcard to a mistress

Kansas, 1907--It seems my great-great grandfather liked to screw-around on his wife. This is close to 101-years-ago, when the dead are scarcely a memory any longer. If you want an idea of how much you're going to be remembered--if at all--this is a good lesson.

But be wise, dear friend, and be sure to destroy all of the physical evidence that might fall into the wrong hands of, say...a historian. Then, they, your descendants and others in the future, could accidentally discover what a fool, a coward, and a scoundrel you were. One ancestor forgot to burn a pile of his post card collection, the majority-of-which were written to his mistress. Oh, it was a very different America, and yet the it's still the same. There was Populism them with all its own internal-contradictions just as there is today. Some of my ancestors were prairie Populists.

As far as I can tell from the accounts, my great-great grandfather was a very wrong-headed small businessman who owned a hotel for a time. It burned-down around the time of this card. A petty bourgeois, some of the worst among us, and I believe his own father was a barber and leather-worker in the Old West. Since the Revolutionary War, some of the Bloughs have worked closely with horses, and we're a vast surname. I have my great-great-great grandfather's Old West Bible. You have to wonder whose hair he cut during his time living in 19th century Kansas. He died in the 1890s of poor health, possibly tuberculosis or pneumonia.

On December 25th, 1907, his mistress felt it important to mail him saying that her ride on the railways had gone well. Wonderful, at least they were satisfied, though I doubt Mrs. Blough was. If you think everything nowadays is new, unique, and that you're the first person to have sex...you must be under the age of 30. That's right kids, you're not the first people to discover illicit-fucking, I hate breaking it to you. Most of you are as boring as you suspect, so try to work on that one. Your parents are full-of-shit too, so why imitate them so much?

My point is, I reject a lot of things in my family history. Many people do, or like to think that they do. I'm not mistaken in my assertions, but all Americans of every color harbor bigotry and racist conditioning, it's inherent to our culture.

While these lily-white slobs were playing house, thousands of Native Americans were being herded into the reservations, thousands were being forcibly-sterilized for being "different" or troubled, millions of workers were being exploited and flogged like slaves, while blacks were being lynched from the highest-trees and still worked as slaves when they weren't being hounded under vagrancy laws; and while our military was slaughtering untold thousands of Filipinos, these ancestors--not the mistress--of mine were screwing in their ignorance. Such are the lives of the middle class.

It's a funny little card from an unfunny little era, not so different from our own. It was yesterday, and I reject the racism and the hypocrisies of that time and this era. Why is reincarnation necessary at all?

Postscript, 09.18.2008: There are what appear to be remnants of writing along the left-margin of the postcard. Yes, some of them are stains from deterioration, very perceptive. I'm guessing it's a reference to the spurned- wife.

Ed Gein (2000) review

Modern American horror began on November 16th, 1957 in a little farming community named Plainfield, Wisconsin: This movie gets a lot more criticism than it generally deserves. Indeed, it is extremely low-budget, but it basically nails the whole point of Ed Gein better than anyone ever has, or possibly ever will. What seems to disappoint most people is the fact that the film sticks so closely to the story of what actually happened, rather than the speculations and additions. Not that Eddie didn't kill anyone, mind you...

The reality is, Ed Gein was not a serial killer in any respect, and murdered only two women whom he may have felt resembled his dead mother. It's unknown factually beyond that, though he might have killed his brother in an argument when both men were hunting. The photograph to the right is of the body of his second victim, Bernice Worden. What he is most remembered for, in reality, are the ghoulish excavations he committed, and his "articulations" of dead bodies.

It's very difficult for us to imagine in our current era how much of a bombshell Ed Gein was in late-1950s America. People didn't talk about mental illness or domestic abuse in those days. In fact, it's my own humble opinion that we still haven't entirely coped with the knowledge of such aberrant-behavior.

Why do people do such things? There really are no answers here, which can a very disturbing reality in a modern world that appears to have explanations for nearly everything. But sometimes, there are no clear answers. The makers of "Ed Gein" have shed some much-needed light on what is really known about Gein's metamorphosis into a full-blown ghoul. Surprisingly, a great deal of the psychological subtext of his life has leaked-into films "based" on his "true story."

Most successful of all--naturally--is Hitchcock's "Psycho," but Steve Railsback and Chuck Parello have shown us a very clear scenario into why Ed Gein became the man we know-of today. Gein was basically bisexual and had a strong desire to BE a woman, like his domineering mother. Gein's real problem was being schizophrenic, however. The addition of the strident religious fanaticism of his mother probably didn't help, as many sufferers hold a fascination with the cosmological.

As stated in "Psycho" so well, he wanted to "...become his mother," in a sad-attempt to "bring her back to life." His father was a pathetic drunk, and as is well-known, his mother had a god-like dominance (coupled with religious-fanaticism and sociopathological attitudes) over the young boy. Ed was also deeply traumatized by an incident on the family farm where he saw his parents slaughtering a pig--Ed was unable to assist them, and was often called a "panty-waist" by his mother.

The incident, and a few others, are reenacted convincingly by Parello and company, and much of the film takes-place in Gein's head (where it belongs). Feeding his insanity with detective pulp-magazines, published accounts of cannibalism and head-hunting in the South seas, and a deep fascination with the Holocaust and war crimes committed under the Third Reich, it was clear that Ed Gein was obsessed with death. In time, he would attempt to embrace and control it, wearing the tanned-skins of cadavers that he had stolen from a nearby cemetery. Ed Gein was a ghoul, not a serial killer, and he sometimes wore the skins taken from these bodies so he could be a woman. Insofar as anyone can tell, all the "parts" came from deceased women.

Also interesting is the story behind Gein's brother Henry and his mysterious death. While it could be viewed as speculative, it's known that Henry was found dead (allegedly of a heart attack while hunting) with bruises to the back of his head. A fire had been started around his body, pointing-to Gein again, as he must have panicked after murdering his brother and either tried to dispose of the corpse or create a scenario that would explain-away his involvement.

The film also speculates on whether Gein fed human flesh to people he knew--this is unknown, but some of the stories around Plainfield attest that he did, and that hunting deer was repugnant to him. The detail is pretty amazing, with some incredible asides by Railsback that add to our understanding of Ed Gein. One scene has Gein at the local watering-hole mentioning how he'd like to have a sex-change, which was explosive news at that time, from Sweden.

This event --like nearly all others in the film--really happened, and Gein's comments were taken as they often were: a joke, that he was pulling everyone's leg. That's how Ed Gein was viewed--a leg-puller, an oddball flake and a shitter. He wasn't taken seriously, which is why it was so hard for people in Plainfield to comprehend what he was up to out at the farm.

There are a few continuity errors: the headlights of a car are clearly from the 1990s in one insert-shot, and there are a few moments where the production design could have been closer to what 1950s America looked like. But, all-in-all, what you have here is the definitive film on Ed Gein. It's all here, in all its pathetic glory. This is what happens when someone is neglected by family and society, both spiritually and medically; this was simply a sick man who needed help. Nobody did so until it was too late, leaving just another example of how we are not a very proactive culture.

It's telling that Augusta never had her son taken to get help, and one has to assume she was also deranged in a way that found expression in the sickest, darkest pages of the Bible--especially her fixation on the Book of Revelations, a tome that should be read as metaphor only. None of this is sexy and exciting to gorehounds and thrill-seekers who come to a film like this, not to learn something, but merely to stimulate their hunger for viscera. Grow-up.

An excellent film! How can you lose with ole' Steve Railsback, anyway? He bankrolled this one, and it was a wise move, they got a lot of bang for their buck. If the movie says anything, it's how insensitive we were as a culture at that time. Hardly anyone thought it that strange that Ed Gein had shrunken-heads hanging from his bedroom walls. His excuse was taken at-face-vaule: he'd gotten them from a relative who had fought in the Pacific during WWII.

Trophies of this sort were common, but should have been taken as a good example of the sickness and psychopathology of their owners. During the late-1950s, people might have thought it odd, but rarely would have blinked over it. That's how sick a culture we were at that time, and we aren't out of the woods surrounding Plainfield yet. We haven't coped entirely with Ed Gein as a culture yet, let alone Jeffrey Dahmer. Pity poor Ed, he's earned it.

Postscript: It seems possible Mr. Railsback was a target-for-death of Robert Blake at one time!