JOE DOLCE NEWSLETTER

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Friday July 25th, 2008

The Underground Railroad:
Painesville Depot


Hell is sold out.
Unknown




Hi folks,

I was born and raised in Painesville, Ohio, in the States. My higher education and discovery of Music occurred further south, in the late 60s, at Ohio University, in Athens, Ohio. In a previous newsletter,  a couple of years ago, I revealed that  Athens, Ohio, was named by the British Psychical Society, in the 1800s, as one of the most haunted spots in the WORLD. When I heard this, I thought:  Ahah! That helps explain why I am the way I am.
http://members.iinet.net.au/~dwomen/files/nlMar2406.html

Previously, when I thought of Painesville, people like Judge Michael Cicconetti came to mind. Judge Cicconetti was famous for his unusual sentences and once ordered a man who called a policeman a pig to stand next to a live pig in a pen and hold a sign that read “This Is Not a Police Officer.” A couple who stole a baby Jesus statue from a manger were sentenced to dress as Mary and Joseph and walk with a donkey. He once sentenced three men to 30 days of standing outside the courthouse in a chicken costume, holding a sign that says “No Chicken Ranch in Painesville.” The men were arrested after they solicited sex from an undercover police officer. (“Chicken Ranch” is a reference to a brothel in Nevada, where commercial sex work is legal.)

Just recently, I discovered that Painesville, Ohio – whom fellow hometown alumni and myself have always referred to as ‘Painesville: Where it Hurts the Most’ – also has an significant and colourful past!  

There's a ghost named Stephanie who haunts the fourth floor of Painesville’s Lake Erie College. Stephanie killed herself in the belfry, which is closed off now, but they say she can get downstairs through a mirror in the social parlor. She is said to be a student from the 1800's when it used to be a strictly girls college: The Lake Erie Female Seminary. Lake Erie Girls College also happens to be where I first performed and sang publicly, in a French-language play by Moliere, called Les Precieuse Ridicules, when I was a sixteen year old high school student. I met my first girlfriend, Carol Dunlop, two years older than me and a sophomore at the college -  who I’m sure was really probably Stephanie, now that I think about it. Carol went with me to my High School Prom and years later ran off and married Julio Cortazar, the Argentinian writer of Blow-Up.  

Another spooky story comes from Normandy High School, over in nearby Parma. The cheerleaders were hazing the new recruits in the 80's when a tile from the gym ceiling fell and struck one of the girls in the head killing her. The cheerleaders didn't want to get in trouble so they threw her body in the woods behind the baseball diamonds. It is said that if you walk in the woods late and night, you can still hear her practicing her cheers.

President Abraham Lincoln made a brief stop at the Painesville Train Depot for an address on Feb 16, 1861, in front of 4000 people.   Painesville was also one of the key transit-points in the legendary UNDERGROUND RAILROAD which enabled slaves escaping from the South, to find refuge in Canada, via the Grand River, thru Fairport and across Lake Erie.  Many houses and hotels in the area still have hidden rooms, tunnels and passageways. The Grand River was pretty much outside my back door for most of my childhood, when I lived on Skinner Avenue, which was also the site of the first settlement in Painesville, laid out by Abraham Skinner and Eleazer Paine, in 1803.  My dad regularly hunted rabbits along the Grand River (most of which ended up in my mother’s spaghetti sauces.) Coincidentally, and before I knew any of this history, I wrote a song in the 90s, for DIFFICULTWOMEN, called, Slavewoman:

Slavewoman, can you hear me?
I’ll help you if I can,
To find the Underground Railroad
To the North Freeholding lands.
Sister, Slavery is finished,
It’s just a matter of time,
Every Law
Will someday fall,
That justifies this Crime.
(from the CD ‘Black Pepper With a Hint of Violets,’ DIFFICULTWOMEN)


Ain’t it strange how the wheel of destiny goes around?

The Underground Railroad was a system of safe houses and hiding places that helped runaway slaves escape to freedom started by the Society of Friends, who were also known as the Quakers, in the 1780s. People living in Ohio began to help runaways by the 1810s.

Most Northern states had passed laws outlawing slavery during the late 1700s. Nevertheless, the United States Constitution, the Fugitive Slave Law of 1793, and the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850 permitted slave owners to reclaim their runaway slaves, even if the African Americans had moved to a free state. To truly gain their freedom, African Americans had to leave the United States.  Although slavery was illegal in Ohio, some people still opposed the ending of slavery. These people feared that former slaves would move to the state, take jobs away from the white population, and demand equal rights with whites. Many of these people vehemently opposed the Underground Railroad. Other people tried to return runaway slaves to their owners in hopes of collecting rewards. The OHIO BLACK LAWS of 1804 stated that:

Section 1.‘ . . . no black or mulatto person shall be permitted to settle or reside in this state, unless he or she shall first produce a fair certificate from some court within the United States, of his or her actual freedom. . .’

Sec. 4. ‘ . . . And be it further enacted, That if any person or persons shall harbour or secret any black or mulatto person, the property of any person whatever, or shall in any wise hinder or prevent the lawful owner or owners from retaking and possessing his or her black or mulatto servant or servants, shall, upon conviction thereof, by indictment or information, be be fined in any sum not less than ten nor more than fifty dollars, at the discretion of the court, one-half thereof for the use of the informer and the other half for the use of the state.

Sec. 7. ‘. . . And be it further enacted, That any person or persons who shall attempt to remove, or shall remove from this state, or who shall aid and assist in removing, contrary to the provisions of this act, any black or mulatto person or persons, without first proving as hereinbefore directed, that he, she or they, is or are legally entitled so to do, shall, on conviction thereof before any court having cognizance of the same, forfeit and pay the sum of one thousand dollars, one-half to the use of the informer and the other half to the use of the state, to be recovered by action of debt, qui tam, or indictment, and shall moreover be liable to the action of the party injured.’
http://afroamhistory.about.com/library/blohio_blacklaws.htm

(A writ of qui tam was a writ whereby a private individual who assists a prosecution can receive all or part of any penalty imposed. Its name is an abbreviation of the Latin phrase qui tam pro domino rege quam pro se ipso in hac parte sequitur, meaning "[he] who sues in this matter for the king as [well as] for himself."
The writ fell into disuse in England and Wales following the Common Informers Act 1951 but, as of 2008, remains current in the United States under the False Claims Act, 31 U.S.C. § 3729 et seq., which allows for a private individual, or "whistleblower", with knowledge of past or present fraud committed against the U.S. federal government to bring suit on its behalf.  In other words, a stool pigeon. George W Bush would have been proud.)


So folks, it took a lot of courage and conviction, and personal risk, to be a conductor on the Underground Railroad in those dangerous times, even in free Ohio. I feel honoured to know that as a child, I played, roamed, was educated, slept and dreamt on such hallowed ground. And that perhaps some of my secret playmates and tutors might have been Stephanie in the Mirror, the ghostly Cheerleader from Parma, and the countless other free spirits slipping stealthily through the night on their way to a new life.


FAVOURITE LETTERS OF THE WEEK

Dear Joe,
thanks for all your funny, interesting, thoughtful mails
a small thing - Catherine Cookson is very recent (maybe even still alive)
all good wishes, Linda G

(Note: Linda, you’re right. She is contemporary but she writes so vividly of her early nineteenth century upbringing that she seems like a Victorian author. She was born around 1906 and died in 1998 at 91 years old. Her husband Tom, whom she was married to for 58 years, died seventeen days later. Here are a list of her books:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Cookson)

Joe,
Your weekly missive was an annoying curiosity until I bothered to read it. It matters now, so thanks for taking the trouble to make a wee difference.
This came to me today......there's no context for it other than the truth. (.....can't dig up a shingle on the bastard, any clues?) Keep cooking and strumming, Walt


In life we all have;
an unspeakable secret,
an irreversible regret,
an unreachable dream and
an unforgettable love.
Diego Marchi

(Note:  Walter,  Can't find anything about Marchi except a couple other interesting quotes which I have retranslated to make a bit more sense:
"If you want me back, do not try to discover the reason that caused you to lose me, but the reason that led me to love you."
"Many say I am just one more to try. I say I am one less to quit."
)


G’day Joe,
just wanted to say thanks for the informative and witty Newsletter that drops into my junk mail box every Friday afternoon. I haven’t yet been able to convince the latest version of Bill’s email application that your Newsletter is not junk, so I dutifully retrieve it on Monday before the omnipresent, ever-helpful, over-zealous Office Arseistant empties the junk mail folder. Last week’s photo of the stained glass window was absolute GOLD! I fired that off to all my recovering-catholic family and friends.
 Maybe you could put together a list of amusing quotes from our esteemed Cardinal Pell like “go forth and multiply”, a message to young Catholics visiting Sydney for the recent love-in. For an intelligent bloke he sure has a great talent for sticking both feet in his mouth at once, which shows he has surprisingly supple limbs for a man his age.
 My brother told me a joke on the Friday of the love-in. Probably not appropriate for the Newsletter:
 “I see the Pope’s saying Mass at Randwick racecourse this weekend.... the only place in Australia you can legally ride a three year old.”
 It brought back fond memories of being flogged like a racehorse in the home straight by “Potty” (a Christian Brother) who actually had a name for his strap. At least he was fair – he flogged everyone with equal relish and vigour, well there were no favourites that I was aware of. Cheers and keep and up the great work. Frank
Ps.
 Sorry, can't remember the name of the strap. He also used a 2' length of 1" electrical conduit on occasion. I don't think that had a name, probably because leather has a much more personal feel to it than polyvinyl chloride :) Of course not all the Brothers were raging psychopaths. In fact, most were deeply caring blokes who were dedicated to bringing out the best in us. Maybe Potty was too, he just had a really twisted way of showing it. I also forgot to mention that "Potty" was a wonderful play on Brother Pottinger's surname :)
 
Frank Akers
Home Brew Advisor
Adelaide, SA

(Note: Folks, it’s reassuring to know that some of the folks behind good beer are thinking folk! Frank sent along this t-shirt, as a memento of the recent fine Papal Smear in Australia.



DEAREST JOSEPH IN THE LORD,
 I AM MRS ELIZABETH DAVID. I BECAME A CITIZEN OF LIBERIA DUE TO MARRIAGE, BUT I WAS BORN AN ORPHAN IN 1942. I AM NOW OLD AND SICK WITHOUT A HUSBAND AND CHILD. THE LEFT SIDE OF MY BODY IS PARALYSED. THE DOCTORS SAID I HAVE FEW MONTHS LEFT TO LIVE. I CAN ONLY MOVE MY RIGHT HAND, AND I AM ABLE TO  WRITE WITH THE HELP OF THE NURSE WHO IS HELPING ME. I DONT KNOW YOU, I WAS ABLE TO GET YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS.  BEFORE THE DEATH OF MY HUSBAND HE DEPOSITED TRUNK BOX HERE IN A SECURITY FIRM AND IT WAS DEPOSITED AND REGISTERED AS AFRICAN CULTURAL ART WORK MEANT FOR EXHIBITION IN OVERSEA BUT THE ACTUAL CONTENT IS MONEY AND THE AMOUNT IS 14.5 MILLION USD.  I WANT YOU TO TAKE CUSTODY OF THE DEPOSIT, AND USE THE MONEY TO BUILD AN ORPHANAGE IN YOUR COUNTRY.
 
I DO NOT WANT ANY OF MY RELATIVES TO BENEFIT FROM OUR LABOUR BECAUSE MOST OF THEM AVOIDED US WHEN WE WERE STRUGGLING AND THEY HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT MY PRESENT LOCATION.
 
MAY THE ALMIGHTY GOD THE MERCIFUL AND THE PRECIOUS ONE BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILY.
PLEASE EMAIL ME.
 
YOURS BELOVETH,
 MRS ELIZABETH DAVID

(Note: Dear Beloveth Elizabeth, firstly, my precious, my sweet, my pet, doll, my sweet -  you aren’t that old. If you were born in 1942 you are only five years older than me and, as Val Kilmer (playing Doc Holliday) said in the film ‘Tomsbstone,’  - “I’m in mah prime.”

Yea! I note in your letter that you were born an orphan. That must have been particularly hard on your mother. (boom boom!)

I would be willing to help you set up a beautiful orphanage here in Melbourne but we would have to call it ‘The Pope Benedict XVI Orphanage for Illegitimate Children Born from the Sexual Abuse of the Faithful.’ Please have your nurse go to my website and order 14.5 million dollars worth of my latest CD, ‘The Wind Cries (Jesus) Mary (and Joseph).’ That would be the most effective way of transferring the money to Australia. Once I have received your wire transfer, I will contact photographer Bill Henson to see if he would be interested in managing the facility. I promise not to reveal your whereabouts to your relatives if you promise not to reveal mine to my children. Yours in the Beloved Dripping Sweat Beads of Christ, St Josephus the Utterer.)


Two Films about Moliere

I mentioned above that my first performing and singing experience was as Mascarille, in the French language play, Les Precieuses Ridicule, by Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, better known as Moliere, at Lake Erie College for Girls, when I was sixteen years old. (I was the only male lead! I know I Know. It was a tough job but someone had to do it.) This experience led to my falling in love, for the very first time, with my co-lead, who also ignited in me my lifelong love for poetry, literature and music. Not a bad menage-a-trois.  Here are two excellent films about Moliere. The first portrays him as a kind of a standard issue self-centred dysfunctional artist a la Van Gogh, but it is beautiful to watch and one of the best musical soundtracks going. The second film is much more accurate and a much more empowering portrait of the vastly influential French playwright.

LE ROI DANSE - The King is Dancing
Directed by Gérard Corbiau, director of the 1994 Oscar-nominated film, "FARINELLI."  The King's rise is told in flashback through the eyes of the court composer, Jean-Baptiste Lully. Together with the playwright Molière, they create elaborately choreographed ballets in which the agile young king takes the leading role. Sublime exercises in self-promotion, these dances see Louis transform himself from a shy, immature dauphin into the all powerful Sun King - the embodiment of his realm. The film is a sumptuous costume drama, packed with the music of Lully, my favourite French baroque composer, expressively performed by Reinhard Goebel and Musica Antiqua Köln.

MOLIERE
Directed by Laurent Tirard. Like Shakespeare in Love, MOLIERE uses guesswork, imagination, and creativity to fill in the blanks when the facts are not readily available. What we do know about the life of Moliére is scanty. In 1644 he was a 22-year old actor who spent some time in debtor's prison after his touring company went bankrupt. After that the young actor and aspiring playwright disappeared for several months before he surfaced in the provinces. It was there that he toured with his Illustre Theatre for 13 years before arriving in Paris convinced that tragedy was the only true theater. Of course, what is not known is what inspired him to take a comic turn, but Tirard allows us to imagine characters and situations that might have led to such great works as "Tartuffe" and "Le Bourgeois Gentlhomme" and 28 other plays which roast the upper classes as affected hypocrites and worse.


Shut Uppa Ya Face By Weirdoes Productions
Crazy young women playing the fool to my song. You gotta love ‘em. They really belt the crap out of each other. I’d give these gals a scholarship somewhere.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ol6fIr8bJw&feature=related


AWESOME ASIAN PARTY DANCER
Anyone know the asian hanzi, kanji, hanja or hán tự pictograms for ‘booty’?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0qN6zQ3rFY&feature=related



~ FAMOUS DOLCES OF THE WORLD ~



JOSEPH DOLCE
Major character
In Award-winning author (of spine tingling suspense
and heart-warming women's fiction)
 Lisa Child’s
novel

PERSECUTED: Witch Hunt

Magic is in her blood… Elena Jones thinks that her dream-visions are why her life has been a living nightmare. She would do anything to stop them—anything to give her daughter a normal life. But when her dreams show her long-lost sisters in danger, Elena has the chance to transform her curse into a gift. To stop death, before it strikes. And death is in her dreams… BUT Joseph Dolce is her grandmother’s right-hand man, with violence in his past and darkness in his soul. Elena dreams of him, too—sweeter dreams, but just as dangerous. Joseph doesn’t want to be her knight in shining armor. But his generous lovemaking and selflessly heroic actions cause Elena to have a change of heart. (Yeah baby!)
http://lisachilds.com/Persecuted.html



JACK KEROUAC ON CHARLIE PARKER
Piano by Steve Allen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoKnSMadYuc&feature=related
(thanks to Stefan Abeysekera)



DVD RECOMMENDATION

JACK KEROUAC – KING OF THE BEATS
Umbrella Entertainment
Extras include footage of the original scroll of 'On the Road' (it was typed onto a long roll of telex paper!)
http://www.memorabletv.com/new/jack-kerouac-king-of-the-beats.html


More Kerouac?
Here he reads from ‘On the Road.’ Magnificent!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MjPtem6ZbE&feature=related




SONGWRITING WORKSHOP 23
RECIPE SONGS


"My recipe is Jack Daniels,
 Unfiltered Camels. . . '
From the film, 'The Girl Next Door.'


I saw Nettie Bird, a percussionist from New Zealand, playing once with the Topp Twins and she performed a reggae song she wrote which was an interesting Marmalade Recipe but I haven't been able to find a mention of it, since then, or in fact, hardly a word about Nettie herself on the Internettie (boom boom!)

So what is a recipe song? A song lyric that contains a recipe. Kind of like an aboriginal songline. How about we call it a foodline? (boom boom!)

Probably the most well-known recipe song in Australia these days is Paul Kelly's 'How To Make Gravy.'  I saw this mentioned in the paper again last week and thought I'd check it out to see if in fact it was a real recipe that led somewhere.
http://www.lyricstime.com/paul-kelly-how-to-make-gravy-lyrics.html

'How To Make Gravy,' is a well-written song with a really tender lyric, but the gravy recipe, for the roast, which I think is a classic aussie concoction, ain't much.  I wouldn't give up a Scientology date with Tom Cruise for it.  According to Chef Paul, here's all you do:
 

' . . . Just add flour, salt, a little red wine and don't forget a dollop of tomato sauce for sweetness and that extra tang . . .'


Add flour to what? I assume the fat in the pan. But how much fat and how much flour? A little red wine. Sounds like a deglaze, but in that case, I would do that before adding the flour - if I added flour at all, which I wouldn't. (I don't use flour when I make a deglazed red wine sauce. It's one or the other.) And then some tomato sauce as well?!  White Crow Tomato Sauce?  What's going on here? For sweetness, I'd add a teaspoon of sugar. But tang? In gravy? For BBQ Ribs, or Sweet and Sour, tang is good - yes. By adding some vinegar. But for gravy, no.  It sounds all wrong to me but what do I know? Anyway, I'm open for a more detailed account of Paul Kelly's Gravy if he wants to send more specifics - when he gets out of the slammer, that is. I promise to give it a try and report back.

For my taste, gravy for roast beef, pork or chicken is dead simple: after roasting, remove the meat and let rest, pour off all the fat from the pan except a few tablespoons, lightly saute a half cup of finely chopped onions, scrape all the brown bits that have stuck to the pan, add a tablespoon of butter, two tablespoons of flour, (even a tablespoon of Gravox for a kicker), stir for awhile, add some stock or water to thicken it, some salt and pepper, some red chili flakes if you like it hot, maybe a little milk or cream, if you want it lighter in colour, and that's it. (I'd hold the tomato sauce for the Hot Dog Ice Cream, Paul.)

I wrote a real recipe song for my Leadbelly Ballad Novel, called 'Pigtails in Gravy,' down further. The ingredients and method are pretty clear. A classic soul food dish from the 20s which is unique to most people's palates. And it's crunchy! (I tried to find a picture for you by typing ‘pigtails’ into Google Search but have a look for yourself and see what came up! Not quite the same thing!)

A reader once sent me an entire album of recipe songs called:

A TASTE OF GOOD MUSIC,
by Paul Lawler and The Just Desserts
http://www.peculiarhand.com/pages/atogm.html
Here are the written out recipes from the above album. I haven't tried any of these yet but I noticed that Corrie's Coconut Cabbage Soup has coconut milk and vegemite! Hmmm . . . .? That's ambitious.
http://www.peculiarhand.com/pages/yummy.html

'EAT THE TAIL SUCK THE HEAD!!'
Here's a rootsy dish from Chef Chris and his Nairobi Trio
"Crawfish Gumbo"
http://cdbaby.com/cd/chefchris

Probably the grandfather of the recipe song, if we can stretch the definition, was Screamin' Jay Hawkins. Here's a lyric from his 1969 song,  "Feast of the Mau Mau,"

OUH OUHH
WOAH! HOAHH
WOAWOAH!!
Cut the fat off the back of a baboon
Boil it down to a pound in a spoon
Scoop the eyes from a fly flying backwards
Take the jaws and the paws off a 'coon
Take your time, ain't life for good cookin'
Cause the rest of this mess ain't good lookin'
Take the fleas from the knees of a demon
Tell your pals and gals and come screamin'
To the feast with the beast of the Mau Maus
They make wine from the spine of a bulldog
It's a test for the best for who stays
And the feast with the beast of the Mau Maus
Brush your teeth with a piece of a goose toenail
After death steal a breath from a drunk in jail
Pull the skin off your friend with a razor blade
And tonight change tomorrow bring back yesterday
Shake your hip, bite your lip, shoot your mother-in-law
Put on your gorilla suit, drink some elbow soup and have a ball
Get it straight, don't be late, it's time for mad fun
Feast of the Mau Maus has begun - HAW!
At the feast with the beast of the Mau Maus
They make wine from the spine of their bulldogs
And spread some spread on it, you know
It's a test for the best for who stays
And a feast with the beast of the Mau Mau
And a feast with the beast of the Mau Mau
How they talk, man? They go like this
WADEE? HUMDEE MWLADEE
And how do the women talk?
OU UH! DEWAH! OU UH CACKLE
What you want when you wanta tell 'em
You want some more to eat, man?
Well how 'bout gimme some more of that meat there
And pass me some of the inside of that thigh
And spread some spread on it, you know
In between the toes,
yeah, sock it to me there, ooh
Sure tastes good, man
Gimme some more of that inside soul, yeah
That, what you mean you ain't got no more soul?
You won't eat that, WAH
Feast of the Mau Mau
They make wine from the spine of their bulldogs
They stick their thumb in their eyeballs
And make  olives
Yeah, that's what's happenin'
Reach into his chest and pull out his ribs, man
Let me bite on that cat's bone
Sock it to me one time
Evil, fellow
EVIIIL!
Please!!
Can I have a fried ear?

And for your homework, class, something contemporary from Fleshless.
'The Roadkill Recipe,' from their seminal album, Nice to Eat You. Freshly ground pebbles, anyone?

Fleshpiles of tissue mass
Lethal velocity
These creatures put to death
With tire impression
They lay on the lanes
Yes, it's my larder
I can choose everything I want
Whatever takes my fancy
To appease my strange taste and hunger
A roadkill recipe
Cooked it will be
Shriveled piece of flesh
A steak with asphalt mesh
I need no recipe book
So let us f*cking cook
Shapeless roadkill pancake
Firstly deboned and sliced
And then corned in sweet-hot sauce
The scent of ripe meat
Mixes with odour of spice in bizarre
As in flame of burner I grill it
At last dinner can be served
I love the couvert fantasy
Whatever will augment that taste
A roadkill recipe
Cooked it will be
Shriveled piece of flesh
A steak with asphalt mesh
Yes, kiss the cook
And then you can puke!


Totally Gay Happy Meals

It is the end of the nutball Christian right. Here is your proof. To go

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist

Hey, remember the angry evangelicals? The quivering clan of militant Christoholics who propelled Bush into office and seized the national narrative for a few terrifying moments about five years back, ran deep into the woods with it and rubbed it all over their naughty bits in a frenzy of fear and confusion and lust for all things homophobic and saccharine and spiritually denigrating?

Dying. Nearly dead. Gasping their last. Very soon to be a footnote, a caricature, a gag, a punch line, blasted to the dustbin of history like dried housefly limbs after a sneeze. You should know this now.

Yes, you are right; they already were a caricature, a cultural pothole, a nasty rash in the armpit of society. But it wasn't all that long ago that they were, through a bizarre series of sociopolitical machinations still being parsed by baffled historians, a powerful rash, hugely newsworthy, as dangerous and unstoppable as they were wrongheaded and sad. Remember?

You were not much younger than you are right now. As the Bush era crested, as the neocons' power reached nuclear levels, when female nipples and f-words and evil gay agendas ruled the news, the evangelical Right -- led by the most virulent, spittle-flecked gaggle of mental throwbacks to ever stain the American newswires, Focus on the Family (Dr. James Dobson's clan) and the American Family Association and its nefarious leader, the Rev. Donald Wildmon -- these groups controlled, for a brief, awful moment, the national dialogue. They were the temporary arbiters of taste, the warped conscience of a freaked-out culture. And lo, it was ugly.

Rejoice, won't you? For their time is over.

Did you know the AFA recently boycotted McDonald's? That's right, this once semi-powerful tub of right-wing brain-caulk recently declared a comestible fatwa against America's foremost purveyor of toxic foodstuffs because, apparently, some high-ranking McD's VP just joined the board of directors of the National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, which, to the AFA, somehow translates directly into free pink condoms and mind-controlling rainbow flags in every toxic God-fearing Happy Meal.

Did you read about that? No? Of course you didn't. Here is why: No one cared. Well, that's not quite true. McDonald's sort of cared, just enough to write up a nice letter of response to Wildmon stating, in essence, that the AFA is a bunch of troglodytic knuckle-draggers with the sociosexual awareness of a fungal spore, and they should crawl away right now before God spanks them even harder with the 2x4 of total irrelevance. (full glorious article)
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2008/07/11/notes071108.DTL&nl=fix
(thanks to Ramon Sender)


RECIPE SONG


PIG TAILS IN GRAVY

Pig Tails in Gravy ain’t that hard to cook,
Remember this song and you won’t need no recipe book.

Two pounds of tails for a pig tail treat,
Cut each pig tail into three or four piece.
One large onion, a stalk of celery,
Chop it coarsely, as coarse as it can be.
 
Pig Tails in Gravy ain’t that hard to cook,
Remember this song and you won’t need no recipe book.
 
Four cup water; quarter cup of vinegar,
Add the onions, celery, pig tails and stir.
Black pepper, salt; teaspoon of chili flakes,
Cover and simmer, take an hour to make.
 
Pig Tails in Gravy ain’t that hard to cook,
Remember this song and you won’t need no recipe book.

Preheat your oven, take the tails from the broth,
Bake ‘em at 350 until the fat browns off.
A third cup of flour; a third of water, too,
Mix to a paste and stir until smooth.
 
Pig Tails in Gravy ain’t that hard to cook,
Remember this song and you won’t need no recipe book.

Stir up your flour paste into your broth,
Stir it ‘til your gravy get smooth and soft.
Add the tails to the gravy; simmer low heat,
In fifteen minutes, check your seasoning, and eat.
 
Pig Tails in Gravy ain’t that hard to cook,
Remember this song and you won’t need no recipe book.

~ Joe Dolce ~
(The Leadbelly Ballad Novel)




THE FINAL HURRAH



REDNECK LOVE POEM
 
Susie Lee done fell in love;
   she planned to marry Joe.
She was so happy 'bout it all
   she told her pappy so.
 
Pappy told her, "Susie gal,
   you'll have to find another.
I'd just as soon yo' ma don't know,
   but Joe is yo' half-brother."
 
So Susie put aside her Joe
   and planned to marry Will;
but after telling Pappy this
   he said, "There's trouble still.
 
You can't marry Will, my gal,
   and please don't tell yo' mother,
but Will and Joe, and several mo'
   I know is yo' half-brother."
 
But Mamma knew and said, "My child,
   just do what makes you happy.
Marry Will or marry Joe;
   you ain't no kin to Pappy."

(thanks to Jim ‘Deliverance’ Testa)