darkblack: September 2009

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Fuck Polanski...

Addendum: In all seriousness (admittedly an elusive quality hereabouts at times), Roman Polanski is a convicted sex criminal who fled as a coward from his due judgment, then attempted to justify his act by stating '...everybody wants to f*ck young girls'.

All of his celebrity apologists should be ashamed of themselves for countenancing such flagrant aberrancy.

Whatever one's thinking regarding the relative morality of international marijuana seed sales, and notwithstanding the obviously very real legal penalties for same...Marc Emery isn't running.

Such is the measure of character.

Going Rogaine

...because a change of life doesn't have to include a cold chin.

;>)

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Sunday Overnight

Bud Powell, with Ray Brown and Max Roach, All God's Chillun Got Rhythm, 1949.

The Woody Herman Orchestra featuring Stan Getz, Early Autumn, 1948.

Charles 'Yardbird' Parker, Just Friends/If I Should Lose You/April in Paris, 1950.

Art Tatum, Tenderly, 1951.

No One Escapes The Village, Dear

...Are your lives your own?

;>)

Friday, September 25, 2009

The scum rises, the scum sets...

...and yet another disinformation strategy masquerading as an op-ed in the WSJ under Karl Rove's byline appears on the ink-smudged horizon. Oh, goodie.

Evidently, some people never get tired of having their fiction deficit assuaged by dirty tricksters laboring under somewhat threadbare credulity, yet who somehow miraculously retain a imprimatur of official deference.

Hey, rich folks...Ever thought of what's going to happen when the great unwashed societal mass gets tired of your overweening need to have more than everyone else at the expense of everyone else?

To paraphrase the great Harlan Ellison...Mme. Defarge's knitting needles, click clack, click clack.

;>)

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Leave Glenn Beck alone!

...If you're one of those nasty-wasty reporter types looking for a scoop to earn your blood money, that is.

Isn't there a missing blonde co-ed somewhere, or a dead celebrity with a hitherto-undisclosed shameful past that is in need of maximally saturated coverage?

At long last, have you no decency?

;>)

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Sunday Overnight - Happy Birthday, Mom

The Slim Gaillard Trio, Cement Mixer (Put-Ti-Put-Ti), 1945.

Ella Fitzgerald and the Manhattan Transfer, How High The Moon, 1983.

Nichols and May, Operator Sketch, 1960.

Lambert, Hendricks, & Ross, With The Spirit Beat, 1959.

Johnny Standley, It's In The Book, 1952.

Sarah Vaughan, Fly Me To The Moon, 1969.

...For a special lady, without whom your humble scribe would be dissolute pixels swirling in a formless void. Or something.

;>)

Saturday, September 19, 2009

"Don't ye be wavin'...

...yer kid-size Pirate Pack about on this jolly day, ye thrice-keelhauled swab - Yo ho!"

;>)

Thursday, September 17, 2009

'Television was too important to be left to the journalists'

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Congenital idiocy, as a considered opinion

Think Progress:

In the theater, (George Bush) was clearly confused about how the government would buy these securities. He repeated his belief that the government was going to “buy low and sell high,” and he still didn’t understand why we hadn’t put that into the speech like he’d asked us to.
When it was explained to him that his concept of the bailout proposal wasn’t correct, the president was momentarily speechless.
He threw up his hands in frustration. “Why did I sign on to this proposal if I don’t understand what it does?” he asked.

;>)

Monday, September 14, 2009

Whaddayu bin Smokin?

You go too far with the dramedy, you little performance artist, you.

;>)

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Sunday Overnight - Adios, Amor

Israel "Cachao" Lopez, Mambo, 1994.

Mel Tormé and the Marty Paich Dektette, The Goodbye Look, 1988.

George Benson & Earl Klugh, Dreamin`, 1988.

Sergio Mendes & Brasil '66, Day Tripper, 1966.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Ooooh, That's Newty

"It's a good thing to do and a tasty way to do it."

;>)

Light behind the stars grows dim

R.I.P., Pierre Cossette.

Many of you might not know who he was, but trust me...You've shared his vision.

Adieu

Friday, September 11, 2009

There's A President In The Woodpile

Thursday, September 03, 2009

One last thing...

...Fuck Pat Buchanan. As if I need mentally occluded historical revisionism from someone who put words in Nixon's mouth.

And for those who have kindly inquired, I'm not on vacation...Just too broke to blog. C'est la vie, n'est pas?

;>)

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Lights out, hands above the covers

Taking a break for a while so here's my blogroll, chock full of entertaining opinion. I wish it was larger, but that's the breaks. Email me if anything's important.

Ciao

;>)

Its my Right to

be Left of the Center

Informed Comment