revision99

The city never burns.

It’s made of steel and glass, asphalt and concrete. Even the rivers are paved. When there’s a fire here, it’s started with gasoline, fueled by toxic chemicals and old tires. Nature doesn’t have the tools to burn us here in our fortress.

But if you venture outside the walls, as many of us have, if you build your house of sticks out in the canyons or on the surrounding ridges, if you are so brazen and presumptuous as to think that the world owes you a view, of the sea, of the mountains, of the stars at night, then you’d better be ready to run. Spiders will bite you, coyotes will eat your cats, mountain lions will stalk you and poison ivy, Lord’ll make you itch.

We’ll build a road out there for you, and we’ll string wires, and you may feel as if you’re still part of the city, but there are different rules out there. One day all the moisture will be gone from the air, and the trees and brush will get brittle. The animals will be jumpy with foreboding and a hot wind will start to blow in from the desert and the brown, cracked leaves on the ground will start to swirl, trees will bend in half from the roaring wind and after a while one of your wires will fall, spraying sparks, and God help you if you don’t catch it in time.

We’ve put out too many little fires, we’ve tampered with the natural order of things, and we will atone.

Back here on the pavement, I can’t see any fire, except on television, like the rest of the country. I might see more of it because here everything is preempted for fire coverage, hours and hours of pictures of things burning, soot-covered men in yellow suits, water-dropping airplanes and helicopters, reporters on the scene, wearing goggles and face masks, endless reports of road closures and — hooray! — road openings, the Governor giving grim interviews in front of a fire engine while evacuees pour out of the hills, 500,000 of them so far.

It’s like the bad old days of the 1960’s here now. You can see the air. It coats the inside of your mouth and shrouds the sun, casting the city in an orange-grey shadow. Soot and ash are everywhere, but the business of the city, getting and spending, goes on. Yesterday on the freeway on the way to work I saw a mile-long convoy of fire trucks and ambulances going in the opposite direction, in the carpool lane, heading for Orange County, the vehicles painted the many colors of several different fire departments. They were on the other side of the divider, but my side of the freeway bogged down for ten minutes because of it. People have to look. They can’t help themselves.

But I’m fine. The temperature will be below the nineties today, not that I’ve noticed in my air-conditioned office. I’ll be singing for the people tonight. I have a little extra stuff in my throat and lungs, but I think I can do it, and I think the people will ignore the disaster and come out to party.

It’s not the apocalypse. Just a preview.

I was late for work today, so I had a chance to listen to Rush Limbaugh in the car.

Since Al Gore was given the Nobel Peace Prize this morning, I figured Rush would be particularly entertaining today. In the few minutes I listened, he said:

• The Nobel Prize committee is a joke
• The Nobel Prize committee is a bunch of socialist Swedes
• “the Clintons” hate Gore because he’s rich
• Gore hates “the Clintons” because after 2000 they stole the Democratic Party leadership from him
• The Nobel Peace Prize is meaningless because of the inadequacy of past recipients, namely Yassar Arafat and Jimmy Carter
• “the Clintons” are “hell-bent” on getting rich, and might be getting money from Norman Hsu

These are just the things I can remember that he said in a three-minute period. I don’t know how Bill and Hillary Clinton became part of the story, but I’m sure the ditto-heads were delighted to hear their names again. There were, of course, a few more remarks that I can’t remember, but there was also his tone of voice, which was dripping with sarcasm and a kind of giddy, manic, pseudo-gotcha glee. Pseudo because he ain’t got shit.

The Nobel Peace Prize is prestigious. The right wingnuts know this, even as they try to deny it. It’s often controversial, but if it’s such a joke, why spend any time making fun of it? Rush ain’t got shit, and the Republicans ain’t got shit. Limbaugh is a clown, an entertainer who has figured out where the money is and who will say whatever it takes to keep it flowing. He’s good at his job, unfortunately, but he seems to be talking crazier and crazier shit as the fortunes of the Right decline.

Note to the righ wing slime and disinformation machine. Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize, and you didn’t. Get over it.

____________________________________

Your assignment, should you choose to accept:

Reconcile the following two oft-heard statements.

A. “Lift only with your knees.”

B. “The knees are the first to go.”

I was somewhat disgusted by the spectacle of Ann Curry, upon whom I have a slight crush, sucking up to Jenna Bush on the Today Show this morning.

Ann is a pro, though, a description that also applies to prostitutes, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear her say more than once during the “EXCLUSIVE!” interview that she would be so proud of Jenna if she (Ann) were her mother. Ostensibly, Ann said this because Jenna has written a book in which she professes concern for disadvantaged people in Latin America,* but actually it was probably corporate penance required of NBC for allowing Bruce Springsteen to say bad things about Jenna’s dad last Friday.

This, in part, is what he said:

. . . over the past six years we’ve had to add to the American picture: rendition, illegal wiretapping, voter suppression, no habeus corpus, the neglect of that great city New Orleans and its people, an attack on the Constitution. And the loss of our best men and women in a tragic war.

This is a song about things that shouldn’t happen here happening here. So right now we plan to do something about it, we plan to sing about it. I know it’s early (in the morning), but it’s late. So come and join us.

What a dilemma for NBC! The Boss has a new record out and he’ll play in the street for you to promote it (Yay! Big ratings!), but you have to let him talk, and then he goes and shoots off his mouth like that (Boo! Controversy!). There goes your access to the White House. David Gregory never gets called on in a news conference again!

But then two days later Jenna wants to promote her book, and presto! Problem solved! Just have Ann get a lip lock on Jenna’s butt, and fawn over her for not one but two interviews on the same episode of The Today show. I think my link at the top contains video of these extremely sappy interviews, but I’m at work, where there is no such thing as streaming video, so somebody please let me know what you find.
OK, seriously, I understand that these morning talk shows exist primarily for authors and movie stars and political figures to promote their books, movies and selves to us, but really, aren’t you supposed to just toss them softball questions? I mean, come on, Annie — let Jenna promote her own book! You don’t have to do it for her.

Whatever. But congratulations to Springsteen for speaking up the way he did. I’m dismayed that more of us aren’t doing it.

In other aging rock star news, apparently Genesis has gotten back together and staged an elaborate paid rehearsal in Cleveland in preparation for their real shows here in L.A. Check Blue Girl’s blog for many obscure insider observations on this.

_________________________________

*Please note that I do not doubt Jenna’s sincerity. But if she says she’s not running for President, get your “Jenna in 2016″ posters ready.