…and by that I mean the Constitution, the Judiciary and the Senate, to be replaced by… what, exactly?
Read this, and be amazed.
I’m not so sure that their little plan, however, will be achieved that easily.
The next few months should tell us, I guess. But in the meantime, let us heed the wise words of some professor or other:
BUY GUNS AND AMMUNITION, BECAUSE IF THIS HAPPENS WE’RE LOOKING AT CIVIL WAR.
I’m not hoping for it, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be ready for it when it comes.
Bring it on.
Back when I was serving my country in the Seffrican Defence Force, I found myself playing bass guitar in the Army’s Entertainment Group.
At the time, the senior NCO in charge of all the national servicemen like myself was a guy named Dave Langley. Dave was very different from the rest of us: quite a bit older (late twenties), married with an apartment in downtown Johannesburg, he was unbelievably “straight” — that is to say, conservative and a normal citizen, unlike the rest of us. He was, truth to tell not very likable: officious, very much subservient to higher ranks, and worst of all, he had no sense of humor that we could discern. He was tall and rather stout, and had a variety of facial tics that we mercilessly lampooned when saying things like, “Langley says we have to sweep the parade ground today”, accompanied by a series of eye twitches and chin pulls that caused howls of laughter.
What was worse was that he wasn’t a musician — in all his time there, he’d never been called on to join a band, perform at any function or even been seen to practice any instrument. It was rumored that he could sing, but that didn’t mean much — everyone in the EG could sing.
Anyway, you may recall that I was playing in a band of national servicemen called Hogwash. One day, there was a pause in out daily practice — can’t remember the reason — but Danny the guitarist and Franco the drummer had left the room, leaving me alone with Boze the keyboards player. We were just noodling around when the door opened and Dave Langley came in. We expected him to grab us to clean the kitchen or some damn thing, but instead he rather nervously handed Boze some sheet music and said, “Do you mind playing that so I can sing it?”
Boze squinted at the music — I don’t know why, he could play anything ever written on paper — then said, “Sure,” and passed the music to me. It was Cliff Richard’s Miss You Nights (featured on last Saturday’s birthday greetings, hence this post). I knew the song but had never played it; but no problem, it was pretty easy, so Boze launched into the introduction like he’d played it all his life.
It turned out that Dave Langley had a very nice voice, a full baritone with excellent pitch, and so on we went.
About halfway through the song Danny and Franco came back into the room, stopped and stared at the scene, then immediately went over to their instruments and started to fill in. The song ended, and I think Langley would have left, but instead Danny said to him, “Let’s do this again”, and off Boze went.
This time through, however, I could tell that Danny, Boze and I weren’t just playing the notes, but were also figuring out the song — parts for strings (Boze’s little synthesizer) and more importantly, the many vocal harmonies and fills that turn a simple song into a powerful ballad. Here’s the link, if you want to join in at this point.)
At the end of this second run-through, Danny said, “One more time, guys — and Dave, give it all you’ve got.”
What Dave Langley got was the full Hogwash Treatment — full, lush harmonies, note-perfect instrumentals: it could have been performed (or recorded) just like that, and would have been a showstopper.
Anyway the song ended, and as it happened, lunch call came and the guys all left the practice room. I stayed behind to pack my Rickenbacker bass away in its case, then Langley came back into the room to grab the sheet music.
As we walked out of the room, I noticed that he had a tear running down his cheek, which was not in character for the impassive, humorless man, and I asked, “Dave, are you okay?”
He brushed the tear off his cheek irritably, and said, “You know, I never thought that anything I ever sang could sound that beautiful.”
Dave Langley never did get to perform with a band, or anywhere else during his time at the EG. When it was the end of his service, he left camp, and nobody ever saw him, or heard anything about him ever again.
But for that one brief moment, he’d been a musician. I’m just glad I was there to see it.
A Classical Reflection:
And on with the ugly stuff:
And just to end it all:
I know, I know… everyone’s going crazy about Elon’s Flyeeen Car and how cool it is, and people are already lining up to buy second-floor parking spaces in downtown Manhattan etc. etc. etc.
And let’s be honest, this is pretty cool:
I do, however, have one thought that nobody seems to have addressed yet. And that is:
Let’s assume that before the Flying Tesla took off on its groundbreaking run, before it got to 60mph in under a second — before all that, its little Duracell battery was at 100% charge.
Now after zooming up that ramp, performing a slow roll and slowly descending back to Earth, landing back on its wheels…
…how much charge was left in its battery?
I think we should be told.
…from yesterday to Cliff Richard (86), who had at least one #1 hit record in each decade since… seems like forever. Some my personal favorites:
When The Girl In Your Arms (from his regrettable “Elvis” period)
…and one hat tip to his backing band The Shadows, with peerless lead guitarist Hank Marvin:
Doesn’t sound like much today, but to the early-1960’s listening public it was heavy metal.