If you're not sure which finger and which motion to give someone, check out the Field Guide to the North American Bird.

My man, Mike, did the illustrations. He also laced me and my wife with some artwork.

Yes, Paul Krugman is at it again. I look forward to his columns.

Check this one out:
Noonday in the Shade

June 22, 2004
By PAUL KRUGMAN

John Ashcroft seems to be neglecting real terrorist threats
to the public because of his ideological biases.

Full Article

I heard about this story a while back, perhaps on AlterNet.

(Reminds me of my friend, Timothea, who predicted the DC snipers were probably driving around in a Cadillac while everyone was on alert for a "white box truck".)

If we continue to think extremist Islamist elements are the problem, we will never solve the problem of extremist elements.

Some days you have to pull out the Jungle Brothers and just deal with the fact you're old, and reminisce about "the good ol' days" of rap.

Nostalgia tends to romanticize, but I know you can make the argument that rap's commercialization was already in full effect by the time the JB's dropped Done by the Forces of Nature. I'll grant you that.

Just don't ask me to stop smiling when I hear "Doin Our Own Thang".

Because that was 1989... "a number/ another summer (git down!)/ sound of a funky drummer/ music hittin ya hard/ cuz i know ya got soul! (brothers and sisters)/" and at age 16, I was diggin' the Native Tongues.

Now, in my old age (31), I've moved from Chuck D on wax to Chuck D on Air America Radio.

"Say word. Word, I'm sayin" (dialogue from Prince Paul's "A Prince Among Thieves").

Ted Rall's got some cool comics. But what I'm talkin' about today is his op-ed on Ronald Reagan.

"reagan haiku"
sometimes collective
memory lies, erasing
what really happened

I remember my mom working in a battered women's shelter through the reagan years, wondering whether federal funding would be renewed. I remember first seeing homeless people, first hearing of AIDS, never hearing government could be part of the solution. I remember documentaries about the Berkeley free speech movement, accounts of Reagan's naming of names during the McCarthy era. I remember that Reagan negotiated to keep Americans as hostages until he was inaugurated. I remember Central America's death squads, and Negroponte's wink-nod alliance with killers. I remember air traffic controllers/working people getting shafted. I remember a lot more than "the Gipper" or the "Great Communicator". I remember nuclear attack drills in elementary school.

As an adult, I've learned a lot more about his administration than I care to believe America let happen-- but history doesn't lie. The man won two terms. I believe that says more (terrible things) about the American voting public than about Reagan's supposed greatness. Guess we get the rulers we deserve (Jefferson?).

Kai's link seems too good to pass up without passing it on...

You also need to get up on Wild Style and Scratch.

I watched "Scratch" on the train from DC to NYC, on my way to my friend's wedding. The X-ecutioners, Scratch Picklz and all the originators put the art form in perspective for those who don't know, and accentuate it for those who do.

Head noddin' acceptable...

I'm on a listserv for The League of Independent Voters.

Are you?

I have a copy of How to Get Stupid White Men Out of Office.

Do you?

Whatever your choice in November '04-- VOTE!

Paul Krugman in the NY Times (which didn't deliver my damn Sunday paper yesterday!).

Yeah, it's agitprop. So what?

Check out the trailer for Fahrenheit 9/11. Some shit's about to jump off when the film opens, June 25th! Can't wait till next year's Oscar speech.

Remember what Moore said last year? Get ready for more Moore.

(I wish I'd saved the link to an article where Moore said he made this film because he didn't want to leave it up to the Democrats to fuck it up and lose the election. If it weren't after 1am, and I was a teenager, I'd search for it. But for now, I have to say, "Goodnight, Dick".)

mo' betta...

for Pearlie and Johnny Will Jones, Sr.

we listened to cicadas sing that afternoon, sitting on the porch
looking across the road named after Grandpa toward Cousin Huey’s
fields. as the darkening sky thundered, rain and wind cooler than
inside ceiling fans chased humidity off to the swamps, past the
clearing and log camp, around by the Flying Eagle

where you two sold 'shine and fish sandwiches. hard to believe you
ever set foot in a jook joint, but Uncle Charles and Uncle Leroy drove
me and Huey and Spanky past the spot last time we had a reunion.
Up the road, near Bogalusa, we all stood by the tree Grandpa hit
when the Klan ambushed him. Fools thought they could kill a deputized
veteran moonshining farmer easy as that? Imagine if Grandpa had two legs.

almost a century since you married, decades since you passed we Joneses
have become Grahams and Saintens and more, left and returned, fought in
wars, buried our young and old. We no longer work the land, citified and
spread in every direction; but we still depend on those roads to bring us home, on the rain and wind to stave off heat, on those trees to sing with cicadas
on afternoons like the ones we shared before you went home to God

I don't know where exactly I'm going with this. Any comments? Click the "send props or gripes" link above. Thanks.

for Pearlie Jones

you were here the last time. sitting on the porch, looking
across the road named after grandpa to cousin huey's fields
and the darkening sky. we listened to the

afternoon ricochet between earth and heaven. cicadas
thundered and the rains came cooler than inside
ceiling fans caked with dust.

testimonial

my man knew Un-American
oxymorons better than
they knew themselves

and did not edit
his words in margins
of errant ideology