John Peel is Dead

I just learned that John Peel died last month. I suppose it's an indication of how out of touch I am that I didn't know about it until now. But there you have it.

If you live outside the UK, you probably don't even know who Peely was. Simply put, he was probably the most influential non-musician in the not-insignificant British music scene of the latter half of the 20th century. He was one of the original DJs on BBC Radio One (when the offshore pirate radio stations were shut down and he went legit, back when I was still in diapers), and the last of them to leave the airwaves. He introduced British radio listeners to punk, to reggae, to hip-hop, and countless other kinds of music. He single-handedly launched the careers of dozens of musicians, from Bowie to the Sex Pistols to the Smiths.

I came to know John Peel during a brief residency in the UK, spending a term at the University of Aberdeen, back in the mid-1980s. American radio was already well on its way to becoming the corporate pablum it is today, but I'd experienced the thrill of doing college radio, which whetted my appetite for more cutting-edge music. Then I got to Britain, where this proper-sounding middle-aged bloke on the fucking Bee-Bee-Cee was playing stuff that no one in the States would even touch. I recorded stuff liberally from the John Peel show, and mailed cassettes to a co-conspirator at my home college to play for the colonials.

I lost touch with Peely when I returned to the States, but I brought with me several EPs recorded for his show, released in those days in a series called "The Peel Sessions". A few names from the sleeve: OMD, AC/DC, T-Rex, Jeff Beck, Joy Division, Billy Bragg, Teardrop Explodes, Cocteau Twins, Joan Armatrading, Xymox, Wire, The Specials, XTC, the Fall, Pink Floyd, Elvis Costello, Manfred Mann, the Cure, and We've Got A Fuzzbox And We're Gonna Use It. The belt on my little-used turntable has turned brittle, and it broke apart when I tried it just now, so I had to spin the Undertones' disk (one of Peel's all-time favorite bands) by hand. Which seemed appropriate, somehow. John Peel loved music at its most raw and elemental, and "Listening In" at 15-60rpm was the kind of thing he would have played and played up on his show.

I don't want to count how many years its been since I've heard John Peel, and I'm saddened to think that I'll never again hear him live on the air. But I can still hear him in my head, plain and clear as if it were yesterday. I ran across a quote from him that I can easily mentally transcribe in his voice: "I've always imagined I'd die by driving into the back of a truck while trying to read the name on a cassette, and people would say, 'he would have wanted to go that way.' Well, I want them to know that I wouldn't."

He didn't, of course. It was a heart attack. But I do hope he had some good music on at the time.

Shopping Outside the Box

It's almost time to celebrate the great American national holiday: the month-long festival of shopping. Huge sectors of the U.S. economy are entirely dependent on this season, in which people who really can't afford to are guilted into buying more toys for their children, and other people struggle to find gifts to buy for people who can afford anything they might want for themselves.

I'm not going to go as far as to boycott it all. Christmas means too much to my family, and they mean to much to me. But I do try to keep it in perspective and to keep from participating too heavily in the destructive aspects of it. For one thing, I don't go anywhere near the malls or the big box stores to shop. (Heck, I've never even set foot in a Target or Wal-Mart.)

I try to find gifts that don't involve spending money just for the sake of spending money... not because I'm cheap (though the fact that money's tight these days is a motivator) but because it's a more sane way of giving gifts. So I give people books I once bought for myself, or a piece of art I've created. Or I give them a free upgrade for their computer using some spare RAM or a mid-sized hard drive I don't need anymore.

Uninvited Pets

I like living in an old house. One-of-a-kind floor plan, hardwood floors, big trees in the yard, a funky added-on room that preserves the exterior wood paneling as two of its interior walls, and dozens of other little quirks and details that add up to "character".

Unfortunately, it also has dozens of places where a small, flexible burrower could get into the structure, and even more places where one can hide once inside. So I've got mice.

They're not the only rodents in the neighborhood, but I have to say that I'm more fond of the squirrels who bound around my yard, leap through the trees, scamper across the skylight, and occasionally peer in my windows from the tall bushes. I live my life, they live their lives, and neither of us impinges on the other.

I'd be happy to take the same attitude toward the mice, but from time to time they break that unspoken truce. It's happened a few times before. Once I caught one trying to gnaw his way between the baseboards of the wall. Another time I found a couple of emaciated corpses in the cellar that apparently couldn't find their way out. Last year I found that something had been nibbling at the seasoning packets and had eaten through and consumed the Taco Bell hot sauce packets I'd been saving in one of my kitchen drawers. Lately I've been hearing scratching sounds from the ceiling, where I assume a few mice are trying to make themselves at home under the upstairs neighbor's floorboards.

But the last few days, they've crossed the line... into my living space. That I can't deal with. Hell, I had a hard enough time dealing with it when my boyfriend invaded my living space, and I loved and had great sex with him. These guys just steal my food and leave little turds. At least Andy used the toilet.

I don't want to kill them. For one thing, I'm squeamish about that sort of thing. Plus it just seems wrong to kill something for just trying to survive. Breaking & Entering shouldn't warrant the death penalty. I'd rather just get them to leave.

When a bee or a moth gets into the house, it's not too difficult to shepherd them out a window or open door. Just leave it open long enough and they'll usually find their own way out through a combination of chance and instincts to head for light areas. When I encountered a mouse in the house a couple summers ago, I just left the doors open overnight and I never saw him again.

Earlier tonight I heard a little click from the kitchen, and after going in there and quietly listening for more sounds, I spied him running for cover on the counter. He ducked into a container, I took it out to the back porch, then chased him (around and around, back and forth) to the open screen door. A nice, humane solution.

But it's not always that easy. For one thing, this critter was definitely smaller than the one I'd seen yesterday. And as I was writing this, I saw the bigger one again (the same part of the room I'd seen him in before). And I have to assume that there are more. Taking care of one - who makes it easy for me to move him outside - isn't enough. Winter's on its way, and we've had several sub-freezing nights already. Even if I left the doors open, I'm guessing the mice would have sense enough to hunker down and stay put to keep warm, rather than being enticed by the genuine natural goodness outside.

So I've resorted to a trap. It's not one of those humane traps that captures them unharmed so you can release them into the wild. I'd prefer that, but I don't know where to get one. But I couldn't stomach the traditional spring-loaded bar mousetrap, which would leave its victim exposed for me to look at. Instead I bought a little plastic maze that springs shut and kills the mouse when it gets far enough inside... out of sight.

I half hope it never gets sprung. I don't really want to kill anything. But I don't want to share my home with a mouse... or spend the coming days and weeks not really knowing whether I'm doing so or not.

One thing that baffles me is just how well adapted these creatures are. Like the one that made its way into and out of my spice drawer a while back. Or the one on my kitchen counter a little while ago. How did he get there? There's no apparent route to climb up there, and they're a good three feet above the floor. That's quite a climb for something not two inches long (not including the tail). I can figure out making their way into the cellar, but what about climbing up to my ceiling (presumably inside the walls)? If nothing else, it demands a certain level of respect.

But that's still not enough for me to want to live with them.

Fascism Already on the March in Michigan

This week just keeps getting worse.

The Michigan state Senate has just passed a bill that would require pubic school students to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. They did this during a quickie lame-duck session this week, without any advance notice. The Republican party has a majority, of course, so they can do that.

Most elementary school students already recite the pledge every morning. But so far, despite plenty of pressure on kids to say it - whether they mean it or not (hell, whether they understand it or not) - they've always had the right not to. There are some people who consider the recitation of an allegiance oath like that to violate their religious beliefs, which require them to give allegiance only to God. They may consider a pledge to a flag to be a form of idolatry. Then there are those who object to the "under God" bit in there, because it contradicts their belief that there is no such thing. (Ironically, one of the arguments for keeping "under God" in the pledge has been that no one's forced to say it. Until this.)

The principle of "free speech" includes the ability not to speak. It has to. Without that, you're just coercing people to say things they may not believe in. We have the right to remain silent, after all. Requiring someone to put his hand on his heart and say "I pledge allegiance..." when they don't mean it, is requiring them to perjure themselves, a form of self-incrimination. It's the Fifth Amendment being spat on along with the First.

The bill's primary sponsor is Sen. Patty Birkholz, a Republican and evidently a banner-saluting fascist. But she had plenty of company in voting for it. One more piece of evidence that the people we elect to our government either have no understanding of the principles this country was founded on, or they just don't give a damn. They should be recalled. They should be impeached for willfully failing to uphold the Constitution. Instead, they're going to stroked and fondled by their equally freedom-hating, flag-worshiping constituents. And this is in one of the states that Bush failed to win.

Dividing Up the States

With all this talk on the web lately of the Northeast, the West Coast, or even the upper Midwest seceding from the Union, I have to point out that I suggested this months ago. I actually think it would be a good idea in the long run, not just for electoral politics and maintaining cultural distinctiveness, but in terms of representation and good government (smaller districts and legislatures). The world could certainly use one less "superpower". Here's the gist of it:

The Pacific: These states share a common lean toward the left (except for Alaska) as well as cultural and economic ties to their Pacific counterparts in Asia. California would probably have to be split into two or three states to avoid it dominating the others... which is something many Californians want to do anyways. San Francisco would make a nice capital for Pacifica. (Top-level country domain: .PC)

The South: The membership of this nation doesn't match up exactly with the original Confederacy (I omitted Texas, and added the then-disputed border states of Kentucky and Maryland, and yes even the District of Columbia) but it captures "the South". Overall very socially conservative. I think they even have a flag ready. Although the city of Washington would be part of this nation, it might be best to dissolve the District of Columbia into Maryland, and put the capital in Atlanta (rather than Montgomery or Richmond) to establish that the Dixie Confederation isn't your great-grand-pappy's confederacy. (Top-level country domain: .DX)

Note that I carefully avoided using red or blue for any of the states. {smile}

There was a bit of debate in the comments of that article about whether to include Maryland and DC in New America or the Dixie Confederation. I changed my mind, but I'm thinking now that my first instinct was correct, and they should go with the Northeast. Maybe we'd get more cohesive results by redrawing some state lines as well. And I skipped the whole question of whether certain states with a history of independence (e.g. Hawaii, Texas) should revert to that. But I think the basic concept is good. Another four years of the current "culture wars" and another electoral disaster in 2008, and maybe it could happen. I think it should.

Traumatic Stress

Did you notice that the Terror-alert level went down right after the elections? For most of the country it was "yellow", but for New York City and D.C. it was orange. Not enough to send people into a panic and blame the president for them feeling unsafe, but just enough to make them nervous... about changing presidents.

Of course the Bush administration will claim that they lowered it because we successfully got through the election without a terror attack. But what they really mean is that the alert is no longer needed. It helped get George re-elected, and now they want to lower it so people will feel more relaxed and euphoric about his election.

It hasn't worked for me. I've been horribly stressed out the last couple days. I haven't been sleeping well, my gut's been irritated, and (probably the direct cause of much of that) I've drunk enough since Election Day to match what I usually drink in a week. Which, to be honest, is a substantial amount.

One thing that's helped is having the Virtual Canadian web site to work on. It's now a proper-looking web page, and I've set up an online store to sell t-shirts and mugs, as a way for people to spread the word about escaping their U.S. identity and becoming virtual Canadians.

I've done some blatant whoring about on the blogosphere mentioning it wherever I can find people talking (seriously or not) about moving to Canada. It seems to be catching a little buzz, and I'm getting some registrations from others who want to escape the states (even if just in their heart), which is kind of exciting. Time will tell whether it becomes The Next Big Thing, a little sizzle in the pan, or what.

O Canada

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Since it looks like Bush is going to be re-elected, it's time to look at the handwriting on the wall. It says that the United States is no place I want to live.

The political system itself and the principles it represnts have a lot to say for them, but what the voters themselves are saying through that system... I find contrary to my own values and to common sense. The arrogant foreign policy disgusts me. The embrace of intolerance frightens me. And the sheer fearful irrationality of the voters astonishes me.

My nation has again chosen a Republican executive, legislature, and judiciary. This time even more so than last. It gave Bush an actual majority (not just a plurality) of the popular vote. Let that sink in a moment; it doesn't usually happen. It has thrown out the Democratic leader in the Senate, and elected a handful of far-right-wing Republicans to replace occasionally moderate Democrats in the South. Kentucky re-elected a Republican who's obviously suffering from dementia. My state (along with 10 others) has voted overwhelmingly to make me constitutionally a second-class citizen without the right to marry. (This issue seems to be a major factor in the right-wing turn-out in the king-maker state of Ohio.) Even my county commission district (representing my supposedly lefty neighborhood) has elected a Republican.

There are bits of good news here and there (Obama beat his token challenger, and a Democrat beat one of the Coors clan in Colorado), but they're not enough. I want out.

I'm too settled in my house and my job to pull up stakes and move, so instead I'm declaring that my home is now part of Canada. Ontario, to be specific (since it's closest). I'll be doing this through VirtualCanadian.org, a just-created web site providing a means for disaffected U.S. citizens to declare themselves Canadians... of a sort.

This will allow me to travel abroad without being abused for my nationality. It will entitle me to health care, though I suppose I'll continue using my Michigan-based insurance, since Windsor's pretty far to go for a check-up, and would take too long to reach in an emergency. I still won't get to marry, but at least I won't be singled out in the constitution.

Getting legal recognition of all this will be impossible, of course. It'll only be true in my head. But at this point I'd rather live in a deluded state of denial, than in the United States of America.