Bill Cosby, The Carmichael Show, & Dangerous Things.

Saw the first episode of The Carmichael Show when it debuted.  Thought it was awful.  In fact, thought it was so awful that I had my number one son watch it with me (the second viewing for me, that is), hoping to share my disdain for it with him, and . . . he thought it was pretty funny.  Hmpf. Well, different strokes, right?  Plus these young folks today, etc.  But I didn't think I'd ever watch the show again.

But then I was doing some this and that on the computer and the television was on and I wasn't paying attention when The Carmichael Show came on and didn't notice it until I started hearing the name Bill Cosby.  I started listening, thinking that grievous offense was but a moment away.  But I was wrong.  I was real wrong. Whilst maintaining the comedic tone, the characters raised some good points.  For instance, they pointed out that Cosby made some big inroads for black actors, and that he contributed a few tons of money to black colleges.  And they asked if the accusations against him had any bearing on his comedy performances.  

It's a dangerous edge, but they walked it.

If you want to check it out, this episode was entitled "Fallen Heroes."  It originally aired 13 March 2016.  Looks like you can watch it--at least for the nonce--on the NBC website. It's worth looking for.

Edgar Cayce is Boddering Me, Boddering Me

(1) Jacqueline used to say "boddering me, boddering me" when something was bothering her, and I find it almost impossible to resist imitating her in such matters of verbal virtuosity.

(2) There's a much longer version of the "Edgar Cayce & Me" story, but I'm currently writing that elsewhere,  and when it's finished I'm going to put it up on Amazon as a Kindle piece.  For sale and stuff.  Writing is great in and of itself, but nothing quite says "I love you" like being paid for blathering, so ahmo give that another try.  (The first time didn't turn out so well.  Let's just say that I won't be buying a yacht with my share of the proceeds.  Or a cup of coffee, for that matter.)  Worth a shot, right?

However . . . this has direct bearing on The Blog.  

I've been reading Many Mansions: The Edgar Cayce Story on Reincarnation by Gina Cerminara, which I guess is kinda sorta a biography.  In part, at least.  And in part an examination of some of Cayce's teachings.  If they are teachings, I'm not even sure about that.  ANYway, I read this:

"Like those who mock, those who condemn must meet within themselves the circumstances of their condemnation."

It was in the context of a story about a person who was a critic who had written mean things about people which had caused many of them pain and suffering.  And, of course, it's just a variation on Matthew 7:1-3:

7 Judge not, that ye be not judged.  2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.  3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

Which I've heard a few thousand times--minimum.  (And which I think about a lot.  For instance, every time I hear about a Christian giving Somebody shit because Somebody is doing something Christian doesn't agree with.  Like being non-gender typical, for instance.)

But it hit me harder this time.  Maybe it was the story context.  Because I immediately thought, Shit, I often write about how I think this book or this movie or this singer (etc.) is fugly.  And I sometimes have a good time cracking wise about it.  

So I thought about going back and taking down all of the posts that relate to me pissing or shitting on other things.  But there are 2,166 published posts up.  (And another 206 in draft versions.)  I don't know if my life is long enough for me to go back and look at all of those words.  So then I thought, "Maybe I'll just scrap the whole lot of them.  Maybe just start over from scratch."  And that might be the thing to do.  I'm still thinking about it.  But . . . well, this:

Pageviews today

69

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164

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3,867

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Ya know?  Should I just wipe all of that out?  I don't feel very good about that.

So I'm just thinking.  I want to do what's right.  I also don't want to come back as a pin cushion in my next life.  But what Jesus / Cayce / Cerminara said about judging others has really inserted itself underneath my fingernails.

What do you think?

#autistickidssaythedarndestthings

This morning Jacqueline was looking at the calendar which breaks down the week's schedule, including what nights she and her brother (who is also autistic) are with me and what nights they are with their mom.  This Friday was supposed to be a mom night, but said mom had something she had to do, so we switched and made it a dad night.  Jacqueline pointed this out, then said, "Mom's at a workshop this Friday, so I'm stuck with you, right?"

But I was wrong . . . but I was wrong . . . real wrong.

Looks like I owe Matthew an apology.  I was not feeling great about Chicago VIII, which I listened to several times yesterday, but it did have "Harry Truman," a song I have always had great fondness for, and after a few spins I will have to admit that even with the very annoying lead vocal track, "Old Days" was starting to work its way into me.  (I credit the songwriting here--by James Pankow 1--as the vocal by Peter Cetera really is QUITE annoying). But other than those two tracks, I didn't feel that the album stood shoulder to shoulder with its predecessors.  And the fact that Cetera was doing lead vocals on 6 of the 10 songs (2 of them shared lead with Kath) didn't help.

And this morning I put Chicago X on, and pretty much from the first note to the last it was Just. Fucking. Awful.  Part of it is the continuing dominance of Peter Cetera as a vocalist--he has five leads on the eleven songs, one of which is shared with a crowd.  But he only wrote two of the songs, so while it's tempting for me to think that Cetera is the man who pissed in the Chicago swimming pool and made us all want to get out of the water, that can't be the whole story.  (And it can't be that the band went to shit after Kath died, either, because he's still alive and kicking and writing songs--albeit only two of them--on this album.)  Although it is true that the lowest point of the album for me was "Another Rainy Day in New York City,"  on which Cetera sings in a mock Jamaican accent.  Probably never a good idea for a white guy to be doing that kind of shit.  

At any rate . . . I still have two albums to listen to, so I suppose things could change for the better, but I doubt it.  Early yesterday--before listening to VIII and still infused with my new love for Chicago--I took a look at the second set of studio albums . . . which takes us from Chicago 13 to Chicago XIV to Chicago 16 to Chicago 17 to Chicago 18 to Chicago 19 to Chicago Twenty 1 to Night & Day Big Band (22) to Chicago XXX and ends with Chicago XXXII: Stone Of Sisyphus.  I like the inconsistency in the numbering, both in terms of gaps in the order and in terms of typography.  I assume that that's not just Wikipedia being slovenly, though I suppose I should check on that.  Anyway, that brings the studio albums almost up to date--there were only two more studio album releases after that . . . with the curious omission of two (yes, 2 . . . or II if you prefer) Christmas albums.  And a whole bunch of collections . . . greatest hits, box, love songs, etc, all of which have numbers.  Anyway . . . I was looking at that second volume and starting to think I might want it, so I started playing the 30 second samples on Amazon. It didn't take long for me to stop doing that.  Jesus, this band went way down.  I'm still kind of interested in the Big Band album, but I will definitely check that out online (thoroughly) before I put any money into it.

And now I have two more albums in this first set to listen to.  I am hoping that there is some lack of suckiness to be found there . . . but I am not overly hopeful, I'm sorry to say.  Sometimes it just bes like that.



1  Pankow also wrote Colour My World," "Feelin' Stronger Every Day" (with Peter Cetera), "(I've Been) Searchin' So Long," "Just You 'n' Me," and "Make Me Smile."  

"BEWARE OF--POISON IVY!"

Yesterday Comixology put up a bunch of titles to celebrate Poison Ivy's 50th anniversary.  99 cents a pop.  Not bad in an age wherein you spend $2.99 to $4.99 for a regular-sized comic book.  And this issue of Batman was one of the sale items.  I bought it, of course.  Because this was my first comic book.  I didn't realize I was so young--not quite 9--when I read my first comic book.  But I do remember that I was a big fan of the Adam West Batman tv show, and that my mom brought this comic book home to me one day when I was sick.

Looking back through it was not quite as big a thrill as it would have been if I hadn't bought a collection of Batman stories which reprinted this issue, but I still like having it on my Kindle.  Also, it includes the double-page pin-up of The Dynamic Duo that was in the middle of the book.  The collection didn't have that.

I wish they had also put in the ad pages, though.  I remember being really thrilled and intrigued by some of the ads in that issue.  There was an ad for Justice League of America #45, for instance, which I really wanted.  The cover was reproduced in teeny tiny form . . . like this

 ,

or maybe even smaller than that.  And I could see Batman, of course, but I thought that the red person must be Robin, and I had no idea who the guy in green was.  (And I couldn't even see The Atom sitting on Green Arrow's arm.)  And when I found that issue on the comics rack . . . a whole new world opened up to me.  You know the Keats poem, "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer"? 1 That's what this comic book was to me.  A new planet had swum into my ken, and I looked about with a wild surmise.  And I'm still looking, still wild surmising, still kenning.

1 Sorry to be a snot--if that's what this is to you--but if you don't know it, you should, so here it is:

On First Looking into Chapman's Homer

BY John Keats

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,

   And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;

   Round many western islands have I been

Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

   That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;

   Yet did I never breathe its pure serene

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:

Then felt I like some watcher of the skies

   When a new planet swims into his ken;

Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes

   He star'd at the Pacific—and all his men

Look'd at each other with a wild surmise—

   Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

The only way Keats could be more of The Man would be if he'd written comic books.

Chicago III

I come not to bury Chicago, but to praise them.

Specifically the the third Chicago  album.    Which is entitled Chicago III, even though the album preceding it was not Chicago II, but Chicago.  (The first album was entitled Chicago Transit Authority, hence the sequencing.)   So this is the first “number” title.  I like that.  I also like that the band gave number titles to all of its albums, even the Greatest Hits packages.  Makes it easier to keep tabs on things.  And less pretentious. Though it was a little confusing for me when I first looked at the “first ten studio albums” package and saw that it ended with Chicago XII:  Hot Streets.  But it’s because we minus out a live album and the first greatest hits collection.  Which are not studio albums.  Or one isn’t, at least.  Well, actually the band didn’t go back into the studio for the greatest hits album, so it had nothing to do with the recording studio itself.  So that works.

Also interesting is the cover of this album. Partially because it just looks cool.  A piece of raggedy flag?  That could say a lot of different things, couldn’t it?  But also because it doesn’t seem to say III anywhere.   Makes me think of Peter Gabriel, whose first three solo albums were all called Peter Gabriel.  (Although I see that now they are being retroactively named: Car, Scratch, Melt . . . and Security was on a sticker on the wrapping of the fourth album, so it was at least mostly named from the time of its first release.  You'd think they could have come up with better names, though.)

As for the contents of Chicago III album, here’s my take.

The first song is a funky little number entitled “Sing a Mean Tune Kid.”  Nice horns, funky bass and guitar lines, and a nice lead guitar bit.  The song, written by  Robert Lamm, but sung by Peter Cetera, weighs in at a hefty 9:13, and none of those seconds seem wasted.  It doesn’t seem long, either.

The second song, “Loneliness is Just a Word” (another Roger Lamm composition), starts with several horn blasts, then settles in to a funky little riff with a light, flighty vocal by Terry Kath.  That lightness is belied by the lyrics, though, which reveal some deep wells of pain.

Third song:  "What Else Can I Say."  And things get a little bit country.  The vocals (by Peter Cetera, who wrote this song) sound much more like the Chicago you know from the radio, but the music is quite different.  And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s “real” country, it’s also not mock or flippant country, you know?  I get more of a feeling that the band is exploring this sound, seeing what can be found inside of the tropes and memes.

The fourth song, "I Don't Want Your Money," which rounds out the first side of what was a double disc album back in the day,  starts with a little studio chatter, then a pretty heavy guitar line.  And then that voice. Holy shit, where did that voice come from?  It’s Robert Lamm, singing lead on a song he wrote with Terry Kath. I don’t know this band well enough to say if this is a natural voice for Mr. Lamm, but it sure isn’t a voice I’d ever have associated with Chicago before I took this 10 album set plunge.  The music here still leans toward the horns, but underneath them is a pretty hard rock, blues tinged sound.

And then things get quite strange.  

It’s a 6 song cycle under the title "Travel Suite," written by Robert Lamm, Danny Seraphine, Terry Kath and Walter Parazaider.  A 6 song cycle.  Hmm.

The first song, "Flight 602" . . . vocals remind me of Crosby, Stills and Nash.  I mean that as a compliment, by the way, despite my ambivalence about CSN itself.  The country tinge has returned here, largely courtesy of Mr. Kath’s lead guitar phrasings.  

And then there’s a drum solo.  What?  Okay, name two other studio albums that include drum solos as songs. (As in an album other than Led Zepplin’s II.)  And it’s close to a minute and a half long.

"Free."  Which is just a cool song, both lyrically and musically.  Musically, it’s got that nice 70s style whacka whacka whack guitar thing going on, a nice horn arrangement, and some very nice bass work.  Kath’s vocals here are very classic rock and roll, deep and growly.

And when "Free" ends—abruptly—get this: solo piano for a minute or so (we’re talking shades of George Winston here . . . and, again, I mean that as a compliment) which is then joined by a flute.  A fucking flute.  And it is really quite pretty and even moving.  But where the hell did that come from?  And then it gets playful, piano and flute exchanging quips, and I’m not a big fan of that kind of stuff, but I have to say, The Balls of These Boys!  Nobody would do this kind of thing thinking that it would be commercially viable.  And this song goes on for almost six minutes.  Just flute and piano.  Well, maybe some water glasses.  Sounds like, anyway.  I shake my head in wonder.  And admiration, too.  The Balls of Thse Boys!

Then “At the Sunrise,” with Misters Lamm and Cetera taking turns on the lead vocals.  Just a touch of country in the guitar again.  The vocals are the main feature here, though, and there are a couple of really powerful moments in the two and a half minutes of song.

And then the last song of this cycle, a seven a half minute instrumental.  Pretty much, anyway.  There are some la las and some la la dah dahs.  Guitar sounding a little Spanishy this time out.  And the flute returns.  Wow.  End of Side Two.

But the tank still has plenty of gas, apparently.  Side three consists of two “normal” songs and then another song cycle.  The first song song is another Robert Lamm composition (and Robert Lamm vocal), “Mother.”  Starts off with a driving beat and a familiar sounding voice, so that earlier bluesy / Kermit the Frog / Louie Armstrong / John Yarmuth voice on “I Don’t Want Your Money” was a different kind of sound for Mr. Robert.  Well, after a bit, “Mother” shifts into a pretty jazzy sound.  More along the lines of progressive jazz of the 70s, I think, though I don’t know a hell of a lot about this kind of thing. Sounds like progressive jazz to me, though.  

And then it’s Peter Cetera time with “Lowdown.”  Cetera actually sounds a little bit like John Fogerty here, which is good.  Sometimes he sounds a little too Alvin and the Chipmunks-y for my tastes.  And hey . . . this song sounds kind of familiar.  Ah . . . it made it to #35 on the Billboard charts back in the day.  So I probably heard it a time or two.  Terry Kath does a nice guitar solo here, and the horns are quite happening.  Yes, I like this Peter Cetera voice much more than the one I’ve heard out of him before.

And then it’s time for "An Hour in the Shower" with Terry Kath, which is another song cycle which consists of these bits:   
"A Hard Risin' Morning Without Breakfast"
"Off to Work"
"Fallin' Out"
"Dreamin' Home"
"Morning Blues Again" 

Kath is in great voice here, very bluesy.  Almost Three Dog Night-sy.  The lyrics aren’t great, but you hardly notice them because of the good tune and musicianship.  
And side four begins with a spoken word piece.  No music.  Pretty grim stuff, too. I like that in a man.

And then it’s Robert Lamm on the vocals.  This cycle is written by James Pankow, James William Guercio, and Kendrew Lascelles.  Interesting that Lamm was the man to handle the vocals here, then, isn’t it?  I guess Peter Cetera wasn’t the Main Man yet.  If he ever was.  Also interesting that most of the band members are involved in writing these song cycles . . . except for the trumpet player, Lee Loughnane, and Guess Who?

"When All the Laughter Dies in Sorrow" is followed by "Cannon," which is a brass only thing, and quite nice. Then with the next song the piano and flute are back--with a bass as well.  Was that part of the arrangement on that earlier thing?  Can't recall.  Might go back and look. And oh, The Drums, The Drums, Boss!  This thing builds to a nice little climax, then takes it back down to the Mellow Groove kinda thing.  And I don't mean that as an insult.  Though I would normally.  It kind of works here.  And I think it's--again--because it's part of a larger picture.  And, in fact, it builds right back up again to another climax.  Which then goes in to a series of street sounds with the blare of a trumpet or two for accompaniment.  Maybe some other horns as well.  Definitely some car horns.  But interesting.  I think this is "Progress?" But I'm too far from the cd player to see and too lazy to get up for a look.  Besides, does anybody really know what song it is?  Does anybody really care?  And, again, this is not something I would have ever expected . . . or even suspected . . . from a Chicago album.  It's funny, I kind of keep waiting for them to fuck up, you know?  Like, "Oh, we're finished being a good, interesting, vital band now.  We just want to do schmaltzy shit and make money from here on out.  Peter, could you take point on this?  Thanks."

BTW, that song ended with a toilet flushing.  And this was several years before The Tubes's "White Punks on Dope."

"The Approaching Storm."  Very jazzy.  Parts of it actually sound like The Average White Band.  I shit thee not. You should check it out.



Am I lying?  Or what?

And that goes right into "Man vs. Man: The End," and that's that.  

And that's good enough for me.  Try it.  You'll probably like it.

HOLD THE PRESSES!

It took me so GOTTdanged long to write the above that I've listened to V and VI and just started VII, and VII just made me stop what I was working on and come back here.  Holy shit, what is this?  

First off, it's another double album.  So for the record, Chicago's first, second, third, and sixth studio albums were all doubles.  The first one came out April 28, 1969, and the sixth one came out March 11, 1974.  That's one hell of a lot of music in five years.  76:36 + 67:21 + 71:29 (+ 45:16 + 38:21 for the single disc albums) + 72:15 =  6 hours 11 minutes and 18 seconds of recorded music.  That's a lot.  But that's beside the point.  The point is: Holy Shit, What Is This?

Ahem.

Rather than belabor things with my commentary, I'll just say that while this album did provide the world with two hit songs--"(I've Been) Searchin' So Long"  and "Wishing You Were Here" (both of them sung by Peter Cetera, but the first one written by James Pankow and the vocal on the second shared with Terry Kath), there is nothing to indicate that this is a "pop" album for the first five songs, which are all jazz instrumentals.  So get this, you're 25 minutes into the album before you even get a vocal track.  As in halfway through the second of four discs.

The Balls on These Guys!



Oh, wait a minute.  Looks like there were three hit songs from this album, the other being trumpet player Lee Loughnane's first song, "Call on Me."  Which doesn't sound even a tiny bit familiar, so I'll have to see if I know it when it comes up.  And yes, I would have heard it long ago, but after the fifth track I re-started the cd.  There's some good shit there in those grooves, man.