22.0 Elliot Carter: The Day the Music Died?

-I weep for Adonais- he is dead!”

P. B. Shelley

Elliot Carter is a name few people outside the classical music world would recognize. The loss is theirs. He was a true Titan of modern composition with few peers in this country or any other. Possessed with the rare gift of an innate understanding of rhythm, his compositional output stands at an elevated level few of us can conceive, let alone approach. I suppose I could spend the time and energy explaining the utter originality of the man’s compositional ideas (metric modulation comes to mind), but perhaps a summation is preferable: there was something in his works for everyone. Moments of tender beauty contrasted with ear-splitting dissonances, forceful polyrhythms devolved into ethereal disjointedness, but one characteristic was always present: a sense of perfect elegance.

Carter’s work was not easy on the performer, nor was it consistently accessible to the untutored ear. Nevertheless, the performances were not soon forgotten. Even as a student, I recall being fascinated by the theoretical brilliance of Canaries (from Eight Pieces for Four Timpani), not to mention being held in aural thrall by the recording (who would have thought it was possible to write something so interesting for one person playing on four drums?). It is not without significance that during the upheaval of the trend towards total serialization, the European Avant-garde (who typically sneered at their American counterparts) held him in the highest esteem. His contributions to musical set-theory alone would place him at the pinnacle of musical theorists.

A life-long educator, a complete list of his students would border on an exercise in over-indulgence, as perhaps a complete listing of his works might as well: he continued (and even accelerated a bit) to produce magical works right up to the day of his death.

That day, unfortunately, was today.

All too often, we venerate composers only after their corporeal existence has faded. It is as if we are “waiting to see” if the music outlives the composer. As wrong-headed as that approach may be, I believe that anyone who retains a passion for concert music will agree with me:

Elliot Carter will never truly die; it may just take the world a bit more time to recognize the towering genius that once walked on this terrestrial plane.

R.I.P.

21.0: Mr. Robinson visits Taco Bell…

Let me set the scene for you.

Paragon of healthy living and bastion of excellent taste that I am, I decided that the true gourmand’s choice when selecting a midday meal locale was none other than Taco Bell. Heavy with anticipation, I arrived at the establishment around noon. The thought of low-grade beef (ish) swirled in my thoughts along with the promise of innumerable calories in the form of cheese (ish) sauce, cascading into a whirlwind of devilishly indulgent delights.

I was not prepared for the scene that unfolded before me.

There were well over a dozen cars in the drive-through. The dining room was pure bedlam: every table occupied, a line that wrapped through the greasy confines of the cattle/customer chute, and nearly a dozen people standing while waiting for the arrival of their sustenance. Given that I am mildly claustrophobic (or maybe I just don’t like being near other people), this was a personal hell of sorts. Nevertheless, the desire for delectable and undoubtedly authentic Mexican cuisine helped me to stay the course. As I placed my order, the young man at the register noted that perhaps “to go” was the correct turn of phrase for the present condition.

I heartily agreed.

As I stood waiting for the arrival of the promised comestibles, I noticed something rather curious: the restaurant’s crew was performing flawlessly. I know, I know, idle flattery is not my strong suit- but I meant what I said. As overwhelmed as they were, they responded to every customer need with a combination of agility and grace that I have seen before… in Michelin-starred restaurants. The orders were executed efficiently, the quality of the food was identical to that which I’ve experienced in more relaxed business hours (as hollow as that may seem, my point is to emphasize that quality did not suffer as a result of the extreme demand- my tacos were well made and carefully wrapped, the order was exactly what I had previously specified, and it was delivered with a genuine smile), and things seemed to be going remarkably well, given the unique circumstances.

That was when she walked into the dining room.

Rushing through the door, thinning hair shiny with countless attempts to defy time and the elements, she promptly made her way to the chute, clutching what appeared to be Danielle Steele’s latest efforts at literary immortality. Her dress was impeccable: a cheaply made corporate T-shirt (some fantastic promotion must have been going on at her place of “employment”- a bank which is not, thankfully, mine) over a poor attempt at the emulation of Donna Karan linen pants (polyester does not imitate linen), topped off (?) with a pair of scuffed shoes that would have embarrassed Sam Walton.

Please don’t misunderstand me: I put very little stock in one’s outward appearance. However, I have always felt that if an “air” is to be “put on,” the substance must back up the hype. This was obviously not the case. Swooping in as a captain of industry in between trans-Atlantic teleconferences, her demeanor was instantly disagreeable to someone of the style and wit for which I am recognized the world over- or so I assume. To be honest, I wouldn’t have given her a second thought had it not been for the events that unfolded within a matter of less than a minute.

An elderly woman, obviously with more than a few physical infirmities limiting her mobility, inquired of the young man at the register whether it might be possible to eat her meal in the dining room. Scanning the area quickly, he honed in on a table made recently available. Apologizing to the woman for the delay, he informed her that he would clean off the table (a matter of 45 seconds and a damp rag), and then take her order. Her appreciative smile was lost in what happened next: grasping the literary masterpiece firmly in the swollen and poorly colored hand of a debauched ingrate, the captain-of-industry announced in a loud voice (replete with a rolling of the eyes, an impatient shifting of the feet, and a slight upturn of a malformed nose):

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!”

I beg to differ.

You have all the time in the world, my dear. As pointless as your existence is, my mind boggles at the thought of you finding your time worth more than the breath expended discussing it.

The young man was understandably taken somewhat aback by the exclamation, and with a sheepish grin, he returned to the counter (having taken a grand total of four steps in the direction of the table) to take the orders of the elderly woman and the most important person in the world- a middle-aged frump of an inconsequential human being (ish) who obviously had better thing to do. I cannot remember the last time I was as close to cursing someone for inhabiting the same planet as I was at that moment. Unfortunately, the induced stupor of the tableaux could not be overcome. The moment having passed, I left quietly (being no fan of the ubiquitous after-wit) and said nothing.

I will now rectify that mistake, that lack of courage and fidelity to principle I displayed during the episode. Pray listen to an open remark:

Madam (if one may use the term loosely),

I have an unfortunate revelation with which to greet you: you are NOT special, exalted, unique, or consequential. You are a trivial being, the spawn of generations of mediocrity that have finally culminated in the shapeless mass of the nominal existence you represent. Your intransigent attitude towards your own self-assured sense of importance would be laughable were it not so pitiable. Those of your ilk are as countless as the flies that buzz around steaming heaps of excrement- and remarkably similar in value. Given a situation where grace and dignity (not to mention respect for one’s elders) would have been the order of the day, you distinguished yourself as a blatant example of foppery writ large and foist on a numbingly addled public.

You apparently have decided that your time is of infinitely greater value than that of others. Even supposing that this were the case, could you not have displayed a modicum of patience commensurate with the situation? Evidently, you could not. I therefore recommend the following to you:

Please continue your current course of action: shout at customer-service representatives who are barely paid minimum wage to endure your abuse, act as if an additional 90 seconds is the difference between gain and loss in your life, and- above all- regard yourself as more than the painful reality of your purposeless existence. With each epithet you hurl, my position is further solidified: no human being is possessed of a “divine spark” that distinguishes us from other animals. In fact, there exist in the world a nauseating number of people who are as rude and insensitive as to deny the point of their being. They are best left to their own insignificance; observed and valued, they will be led to the false sense that they are more than (as I have mentioned) the mediocre spawn of slack-jawed, drooling idiots who could not grasp the intricacies of condom usage.

Let that suffice.

 Yours in anger,

Someone Who Once Worked in Customer Service

(and, because of people like you, will never do so again…)          

20.0: Rick Santorum, cultural warrior…

Here we go again.

It appears the race for the Republican presidential nomination has devolved into the standard fare: a colorless, faint image of a blown-dry professional politician as embodied by Governor Romney, against the more-conservative-than-thou standard bearer of the social right, Rick Santorum. The net effect will be the same regardless of who wins the nomination: in the fall we will be treated to another four years of profligate spending and economic brinksmanship courtesy of our current President.

Having belabored the point as to the intractable idiocy of both major parties in my previous posting, I thought I might spend a few moments examining a couple of direct quotes by Mr. Santorum so that I might adequately convey to my Libertarian-leaning friends exactly how ridiculous this man truly is. Recognizing that I am a Libertarian, I nonetheless believe that his thoughts on the true and proper role of government are instructive even to those who do not share my political leanings. At the end of the day, this man appears to believe that government has a right (perhaps even a duty) to directly intervene in the private lives of its citizens.

“I am not a Libertarian. I fight very strongly against Libertarian influence in the Republican Party and in the conservative movement. I don’t think the Libertarians have it right when it comes to what the Constitution’s all about. I don’t think they have it right as to what our history is.”

Rick Santorum: Press Club luncheon in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania ( June,2011)

The Constitution?

Having read the document dozens of times, I feel safe in saying that nowhere in it is a government charged with the moral imperative of socially legislating its constituency into submission to some listless, archaic vision of culture “as it should be.” The elephant in the corner speaks: ‘as it should be’…according to whom? Perhaps it may be more instructive to look at what the document does elucidate:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Amendment I

The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

Amendment IX

The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

Amendment X

Simply put, Mr. Santorum does not understand his would-be position as President of the United States. Rather than serve the people as a custodian and defender of our Constitution, it appears that he desires to be some sort of “social activist” sovereign (the diction here was purposeful). What Mr. Santorum fails to recognize is that we already have one of those in office- and it’s not working out all that well; simply swinging the pendulum to the opposite end of the social agenda spectrum is not a viable solution.

“They have this idea that people should be left alone, be able to do whatever they want to do. Government should keep our taxes down and keep our regulation low and that we shouldn’t get involved in the bedroom, we shouldn’t get involved in cultural issues, you know, people should do whatever they want. Well, that is not how traditional conservatives view the world, and I think most conservatives understand that individuals can’t go it alone, that there is no such society that I’m aware of where we’ve had radical individualism and that it succeeds as a culture.”

Rick Santorum: Interview with NPR (August, 2005)

His words are not simply indicative of a stunning ignorance of our founding documents; they reveal a profound misunderstanding of the national character. First and foremost, Americans have tended toward individualism, rapidly attacking anything that appears to encroach on our personal liberty. While Mr. Santorum seems to recognize this in some of his fiscal policies, he spectacularly fails to acknowledge this same tendency in the realm of social policy. As a deeply committed defender of the 1^st Amendment, I take no issue with Mr. Santorum holding the personal stances he takes on contraception, same-sex marriage, etc. I will not, however, consent to his personal views dictating my life choices. The United States is strong enough to survive in the world without the imposition of his “beliefs” into codified and binding legislation. This is simply not what our liberty-craving founders intended. Nor is it, I suspect, what the average American desires.

Our national image bespeaks of a freedom-loving populace driven to the top of the international food-chain, as it were, of our own accord: “government” did not get us here through the denial of liberty; rather, in its best form, it has removed obstacles to personal initiative and discretion. Our citizenry, patriotic though they may be, is leery (and rightly so) of additional government intrusion into their lives. Regardless of Mr. Santorum’s baseless assumptions that “a majority” of Americans agree with him, the imposition of majority will on the rights solely retained by an individual is anathema to our identity.

• I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.

Thomas Jefferson, to Archibald Stewart (23 December 1791)

• It behooves every man who values liberty of conscience for himself, to resist invasions of it in the case of others: or their case may, by change of circumstances, become his own.

Thomas Jefferson, letter to Benjamin Rush (21 April 1803)

• Of liberty I would say that, in the whole plenitude of its extent, it is unobstructed action according to our will. But rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. I do not add ‘within the limits of the law’ because law is often but the tyrant’s will, and always so when it violates the rights of the individual.

Thomas Jefferson, letter to Isaac H. Tiffany (4 April 1819)

• That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not sufficient warrant.

John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (1859)

• He that would make his own liberty secure must guard even his enemy from oppression; for if he violates this duty, he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself.

Thomas Paine, in First Principles of Government (1795)

• The end of law is not to abolish or restrain, but to preserve and enlarge freedom.

John Locke, in Two Treatises of Government, VI.57 (1689)

Allowing myself to nudge into hyperbole, I can’t help but think that Mr. Santorum finds the wisdom of these giants of political philosophy to be lacking. Are these viewpoints that have shaped our national consciousness to be suborned in favor of “Ricky Knows Best?” I had thought that institutionalized arrogance stemming from the assumption of intellectual superiority was largely confined to the Democratic Party; evidently I was wrong. In Mr. Santorum’s case, however, it is an intellectual intransigence born of inflexible adherence to gross generalizations. When this is evinced in an individual human being, it is regrettable. When it carries the potential to be foisted on an unwitting populace by a charlatan of a public servant, it is beneath contempt.

19.0: The Problem with Parties (no, not the good kind…the political ones)

Consider a toy: perhaps a box of some sort, painted blue on the outside and red on the inside. With a few simple movements, you can turn the box inside-out, such that the red is on the outside and the blue is on the inside. The box brings no other use or amusement save this feature; it serves no distinct purpose, and it cannot be truly altered in any real sense. What level of advancement do you suppose a child would reach before casting the toy aside in either abject boredom or frustration at the toy’s inflexible and predictable nature? Do you suppose an adult would find this same toy useful or entertaining? Despite the obvious rhetorical nature of the question, I submit that most rank-and-file members of the Republican and Democratic parties would be fascinated by the object.

Simply put, Democrats are lying thieves and Republicans are thieving liars: two sides of the same political coin that should have been taken out of circulation 100 years ago. When Woodrow Wilson noted that Thomas Jefferson was “not a great American,” it should have been painfully obvious to the most addle –brained sub-normal that something was seriously amiss in American politics. In our own time, consider the thought experiment of a generic tax cut: one side will argue that they cannot support a cut that extends through the wealthiest 1% of the citizenry, while the other will argue that they cannot support a cut that does not include said segment. The bickering and threats continue ad nausea for weeks on end, the salaries and facilities subsidized by people who have to perform a useful function in order to receive remuneration: you and me. At the end, one side finally gives ground (having had enough back-handed concessions passed their way) and the bill is passed as a triumph of bi-partisan efforts- only to be turned into an election year talking point by both sides ( as a mistake or an accomplishment), dependent on its outcome.

No one, however, seems to be willing to ask the most fundamental question: were they willing to trounce on the very people who finance this nonsense based on their (the individual legislator’s) pet hatred or adoration (depending on the party) of the wealthy? If you witnessed this sort of bloviating among children, you would write it off as typically childish behavior; yet when it is seen in adults, it is accepted as “part of the political process.” That people are willing to tolerate this chicanery is an indication of how far we have sunk as a nation; that some are happy to encourage the reign of half-witted charlatans is an indication of how far we will sink.

Ironically, I console myself with innate cynicism: I assume that the major party members slyly wink at each other across the aisle, confident that they have duped the voting public into believing they are “fighting for their Constitutional rights.” I nevertheless live in fear that some of them may truly believe the incomprehensibly inane eructation spewed on a daily basis. I take it as holy writ that the most incapable are drawn to politics so as to appeal to the lowest common denominator with an over-riding precept: aim low- thus if your goal is not achieved, no one will notice anyway.

Lest I be accused of speaking in generalities, consider the following statement as it appears in the official Democratic Party Platform. In the 2008 document, Section IV (Renewing American Democracy) outlines eight key areas of commitment. Yet, in the body of the document all of these commitments are specifically addressed with one notable exception: “Invest in social innovation and ideas that work.” I find it interesting that of all the points in this vacuous document, the most troubling is conveniently missing an explanation. Think about that phrase for a moment: invest in social innovation. If the phrase does not terrify you, I would suggest you quit reading at this point.

We do not require any “social innovation.” Why would we? We foment social change as a result of our growth as a human populace. The government’s job is to adapt to social innovation- not institute it. Any student of history could make a convincing argument that when government gets into the business of shaping society vice the other way around, tyranny is not far behind as injustice waits in the wings; this is the essence of totalitarianism: bending of the social identity of a target population to the will of a single party or individual.

In transition, I will remark that Republicans are no safer from this type of intellectually bereft invective than the Democrats. In fact, I consider the party to be more vexing than the Democrats. While Democrats will gladly tell someone they are about to steal money from an individual to benefit some nebulous concept of “social innovation” (then spend the money on a grant for a performance artist who plays with feces and is considered “important” by the shallow cognoscenti who serve as the arbiters of modern taste), the Republican party represents a diametric opposition: you will be told that your “individual rights” are being protected while your liberties are surreptitiously siphoned off in the exasperated gasp of Christian extremists.

As a reference from the Republican Party’s official 2008 platform, the following statement appears: “Because our children’s future is best preserved within the traditional understanding of marriage, we call for a Constitutional amendment that fully protects marriages as a union of a man and a woman, so that judges cannot make other arrangements.” This is indeed an interesting sentence on many levels. For example, I am at a loss to explain how the phrase “Because our children’s future is best preserved” has any merit whatsoever. It sounds as if the party was trying to sound scientific, despite the notable lack of empirical evidence one way or the other. Gay marriage has not been a contended issue (in the main-stream, at least) for more than twenty-odd years. The raising of children in same-sex homes barely breaks the bounds of the century. What studies or data mining thus supports the veracity of this phrase?

The second portion of the opening salvo is simple to eviscerate: “within the traditional understanding of marriage” implies the same sort of social tinkering for which I lambasted the Democrats- instead of the government trying to change society in an “innovative” way, though, the Republican vision is one where the government attempts to maintain the status quo in an obviously dynamic society. Traditional? Whose tradition? Gustav Mahler once noted that “tradition is an excuse for slackness.” Take a hint.

One must chuckle inside considering that this is the party of “individual rights” when the next words are read:”we call for a Constitutional amendment that fully protects marriages as a union of a man and a woman.” Protects from whom? If we open the floodgates to same-sex marriage, will we heterosexuals “catch gay?” Nevertheless, this idiotic phrase is perhaps the most damning sequence of words in the complete sentence.

When we look at the Constitution of the United States, the amendments seem to fall mostly into two general categories: procedural clarifications and rights-enumeration. Essentially, either errors of technical omission and administrative clarity are corrected or specific rights are guaranteed. There are, however, two notable exceptions to these broad bins: the 16^th (Income tax) and the 18^th (Prohibition). These items, enacted under Wilson’s administration (as with our current President, also a Nobel Peace Prize winner), represent (for the first time in nearly 124 years, roughly speaking) a constraint on individual rights. This is significant in that no other examples may be found in the amendments that so starkly represent an imposition of ill-defined will on the American public- yet the Republicans propose to do the very same with a “marriage clause.” This is an egregious assault on the core principles of any true champion of liberty.

The ending of the sentence is laughable: “so that judges cannot make other arrangements.” In other words, after only the 3^rd constraint on individual liberty in the history of our living document, the power of the Judiciary would be unalterably suborned to the Legislature in the name of Judeo-Christian sensibilities. This is an obvious enforcement of narrow religious tradition on a non-sectarian document. To argue that the separation of church and state does not preclude constraints on the individual will so as to avoid offending the spiritual preferences of the majority is beneath contempt.

The careful observer will note that I have spent more energy refuting a single Republican sentence than I have with a similar Democratic conjecture. My rationale is simple: the hypocrisy of the Republican Party is an offense against liberty of the highest order. I make no attempt to hide the fact that I find it annoying when Democrats appear to take the approach of “all is permitted…so long as we, the obvious intelligentsia, consider it socially valid,” I nonetheless expect it: when half-educated buffoons assume that their viewpoint is the only intellectually valid stance on a given issue, it is safe to assume that their condescension will become apparent when challenged by others. I am infuriated, though, by the Republican Party’s outward defense of individual liberty when it is combined with the socially-constraining rhetoric and the unmitigated corporate cronyism of the last 50 or so years. Both sides may be said to be infected with rectangular brain syndrome; that their respective recent activism bears witness to this goes without saying.

The net effect is this: both parties seek, by means of legislative imposition, to upend the very foundations our forefathers sought in a war of staggeringly bad odds. I am shamed by the thought that an afterlife might exist; the image of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and even John Locke looking down on us and wondering what went so terribly wrong bothers me to no end. I do not claim to know the answer, but I believe I have the solution. Thomas Jefferson, in one of his more radical moods, wrote that any extant government should be wiped clean every ten or so years. We have witnessed an activist vice benevolent caretaker form of undeniable autocracy for well over 100 years…and the smell of rot is beginning to fill the air.

Granted, it is easy for me to sit at my desk (armed with the strains of Bach in the air and a fine Scotch in the glass) and find fault with the current system. But we have known the solution all along: a housecleaning is in order, and a damn fast one at that. Americans tend towards a “throw the bums out” mentality when a piece of controversial legislation is passed. Unfortunately, we also tend to have short memories (hence the absence of contested legislation in the months leading up to elections). In my optimism, I believe that if the mistakes of the past are kept fresh in the contemporary mind, the future decisions made by the political class will unfailingly be for the cause of liberty. Nevertheless, if “change” is to be fomented, we as a political entity must be willing to cast aside the plastic chains of traditional party affiliations, exchanging the familiar for the controversial, chastened by our past experiences yet brimming with optimism about a radical step-change in political identity.

As a nation, we must be willing to acknowledge that the current system is in a hopeless state of disrepair; duct tape can no longer be applied to ideologies bereft of actionable intents in line with the founding principles of this nation. This is obviously easier said than done. To be frank, many people with whom I’ve spoken vote out of a negative perception: essentially, they chose the candidate they think least likely to trample on them. This is a crucial point; when we begin to vote from a sense of desperation or “damage control” vice voting our conscience, the downfall of our political experiment cannot be far behind.

I have never hidden the fact that I am a Libertarian. I have voted Libertarian in every election since I came of age- and I do not regret a single ballot. None of my candidates has ever “won.” Nevertheless, I have walked out of the voting booth safe in the assurance that my conscience is clear. I have voted for the candidate whom I believe to be the greatest advocate of liberty; this is not a pat phrase, but a singular conviction. I doubt that many straight-ticket party voters can claim the same. They are, in most cases, demonstrating a Pavlovian reflex derived from upbringing, a particular college professor, or influential friends- they are in no sense voting as a means of rational consideration and due reflection.

In championing the careful, considered vote, I think I should make it clear that I have never ruled out, explicitly, any major party candidate due only to his or her affiliation; rather, their noxious regurgitation of empty party rhetoric has typically eliminated them for me. As such, I do not necessarily champion the Libertarian candidate simply due to the “L” after his or her name. I hope that those who choose (and, I might add, not choosing is also a powerful statement…so long as it is not done solely out of apathy or expediency) to pull the proverbial lever do so in good faith, safe in the assurance that the candidate of their choosing truly represents what will be best for the United States. Anything less than this demonstrable conviction is a wasted vote: not in the sense of selecting a “definite lose” candidate, but rather as a reflexive vice assertive act. Certainly, we as a nation are better than that.

The strength of the United States lies in its ability to reinvent itself as time and culture dictate, while staying true to the core principles upon which it was founded. In the current state of affairs, very little differs between the two major political parties- one is on the outside what the other is on the inside. If such is the case, can we reasonably expect fundamental change? At the end of the day, our historically singular nation owes its grace and favor to the will of the people. When the liberty of the constituency is degraded, the Spirit of ’76 is betrayed. We have not come this far to see the ideals of the American Revolution tossed onto the pyre of adherence to the failed practices of our major parties. “Change” is indeed required, but not the cheap vernacular usage of the term. A fundamental shift away from the empty promises and miserably inefficient actions of the current political class is decidedly in order. The political will for this type of paradigm shift does not find its base in the Washington regulars, but in the hearts and minds of the constituency: those who understand the principles on which this nation was founded and long to see them returned to the conscience of all our fellow citizens. Nothing less is acceptable.

18.0: Happy birthday, Mr. Bach…

On March 21^st, 1685, a unique voice was brought into the small world of Eisenach, Germany. Offspring of a humble, yet musical family, his life of travel and fame as an organ virtuoso could hardly have been predicted from so inauspicious birth. Made an orphan at the age of ten, a long series of church and court appointments made for a rather mundane biography: he was born, he lived, he worked, he married, he fathered, he died…hardly the stuff of which legends are made.

Why then, do most educated people recognize the name of J.S. Bach? The answer is once again mundane, yet with a slight twist: he wrote music because he was paid to do so, and his works have come to represent some of the most ethereal, soul-wrenching, intellectually challenging and supremely enjoyable oeuvres in all the western canon of music. His art, described in the Oxford Dictionary of Music as “allied to a tireless industry in the pursuit of every kind of refinement of his skill and technique,” is still the subject of wonderment to the layman listener and doctoral credibility to the professional. Why should one man have so universal an appeal? To borrow a phrase from the vernacular, there is “something in it for everyone.”

There exists the mind-numbing emotional content of the Crucifixus section of the B-minor mass, as well as the unbelievably perfect symmetry employed in the ‘Wedge’ fugue. There is the dour portrait of the composer in full court dress with formal wig as well as the pastoral perfection of ‘Sheep and lambs may safely graze.” He is at once a towering figure of music, and a conundrum in historical perspectives: condemned by his contemporary musical contributors as hopelessly grounded in the past, modern listeners recognize the brilliance of his musical duplicity- to steal and invert from Carl Nielsen, Bach’s music is indeed “new wine poured into old bottles.”

This complicated man, the ne plus ultra of contrapuntalists, brought a clarity and consciousness to the sprawling forms of renaissance music; it is not an insignificant matter that the year of his death, 1750, is considered by many to be the defining moment of the transition between the Baroque and Classical eras of music. While his historical significance and rightful place in the pantheon of musical genius seems to be relatively assured in the long run, his stature continually falls victim to the ebbs and flows of musical taste. One cannot but wonder why…

The answer lies in the timetables of history themselves: for more than 300 years his music has survived the ebbs and flows of ‘tasteful’ disposition, garnering continued accolades from the devoted, surviving the slings and arrows of hopeful PhD. candidates, and rising above the mindless eructation of countless media-friendly, pre-packaged industry creatures. It is my firm hope that those of us who recognize him as a special talent among many will effectively communicate his legacy to the future generations: the survival of music is due both to the importance placed on it by its progenitors and the value attached to it by its inheritors. Mr. Bach’s corporeal form has left us, alas; the music survives. It is the closest thing to the eternal we will ever experience; he is not the sole, dusty province of musical historians- he is the gift to humanity that continues to provide an undeniable thrust into the face of the beyond: humankind has existed and it produced perfection.

17.0: Mr. Colmes considers Thanksgiving…

The following is submitted as a rebuttal to an article written by Mr. Alan Colmes, available at:

 http://www.aolnews.com/opinion/article/opinion-being-thankful-for-being-an-american/19729744

Lest Mr. Colmes incorrectly assume he is alone in his feelings of thankfulness, I wish to add my name to the list of the grateful.

I am thankful that a man may accede to the most powerful political office in the world despite the deplorable name-calling Mr. Colmes describes. I am likewise thankful that this same man can be awarded the Noble Peace Prize on the basis of what he “might” do; one wonders if the Noble Committee accepts returns.

I am thankful that a prospective U.S. senator was upbraided for daring to espouse a political philosophy outside the mainstream; that sort of individuality and commitment to one’s ideals has no place in our nation.

I am thankful that public fears of “death panels” and the like were never adequately countered with factual information. We the people have no business knowing the details of legislation our representatives most likely did not read for themselves. After all, we recognize that our government obviously knows better how to dispense with our livelihood than we do.

I am thankful that the media sees no difficulty in damning a former governor for her lack of political experience while constructing a hagiography of a man who was a “community organizer” and first-term senator. When one considers the bullet we dodged by not voting her into the highly esteemed office of the vice-presidency, a prayer of thanksgiving is particularly apt. Instead, we have elected a man of highly believable political credentials to the relatively benign office of the presidency.

I am thankful that our country’s problems are so minor that the controversy surrounding a television show has captured the nation’s interest. It is invigorating to see that our priorities are clearly in order.

Finally, I am thankful that an intelligent man can turn one of the noblest traditions of our nation, the giving of thanks, into an opportunity to foist a political screed on an unwitting public. Were it not for men of his ilk, the public might come to an awful conclusion: one side of the political coin is populated by thieving liars while the other is home to lying thieves. If they came to said conclusion, they might choose to take the coin out of circulation.

There are many things in this nation for which to be thankful; precious few of them are related to politics.

16.0: On this day in history, self-determination triumphed over totalitarian artificiality…

October 3^rd is a day that will most likely pass into obscurity this year here in the United States: we will fret over the latest self-imposed difficulties of Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and multiple other inconsequentialities, but in all likelihood we will have nothing concrete with which to mark the day. I doubt very much that the Germans will have quite the same outlook. On this day in history, 20 years ago, East and West Germany were re-unified; to any mildly serious student of history, this represents an unfortunately cyclic event in the troubled story of that nation. I would contend that something more momentous than we typically acknowledge occurred on that day: self-determination resolutely triumphed over the imposed artificiality of a totalitarian system bereft of both a clear comprehension of human nature and a realistic conception of its own striking inadequacies.

Consider the implications transmitted by the simple decision to build a structure such as the Berlin Wall: ostensibly constructed as a means to prevent ‘western’ infiltration of the pristine heaven of the Eastern Bloc, in reality it served as a method to prevent the brain drain Joseph Stalin had become concerned with in 1948. In short, it seemed that intelligent, educated, and talented people did not share his vision of a perfect society in which the State dictated every aspect of one’s life…imagine that. As late as 1989, East German Border Guards still operated under a shooting policy as concerns would-be defectors. The implication here is staggering: better that you should die than exist in a free country. This fact alone should make any defender of Communist ideology to be shamed into silence…and yet it doesn’t.

We adopt policies and espouse outlooks that may be considered as being derived from the same Marxist-Leninist leanings as the mind-boggling idiocy that brought us such successful states as Bulgaria, East Germany, and Albania, smug and satisfied in the knowledge that the theory is correct but the practice has been wrong- how amazingly short-sighted. Rousseau (regardless of how inane some of his ramblings have proved) once correctly wrote that “man longs to be free, but everywhere he is in chains.” Said chains may be of the more figurative version to which he was referring, ignorance and a lack of education, or a more concrete version in which the very freedom of movement is limited. This is indeed a sad commentary on our evolution as a human species: we have never satisfactorily answered a fundamental question: by what right do you impose your restrictions on me?

As I am a proponent of natural rights, I believe no such right exists as it tramples on the inherent human rights of all persons. To argue that such limitations serve the State which in turn serves the people is an exercise in the worst kind of circular logic. As such, it amazes me to no end that this line of argumentation is ever seriously countenanced. Thomas Paine once noted that society is often confused with government. Surely, in the case of the division of the German State into two parts that reflected the societal leanings of political entities is as absurd as the idea of man-made barriers created to limit the movement of those who erected them. I sometimes wonder if future humans will look back at this sad chapter of our existence with a look of incredulity and disbelief: were there actually people who believed this was acceptable and productive behavior?

As I noted above, the Germans have been particularly susceptible to the artificial divisions imposed on them by external forces, at the expense of national identity and the planting of a seed of understandable aggression. It remains an ironical point that the Soviet Union, itself a victim of historical self-doubt and paranoia, was the architect of the ne plus ultra as regards an effrontery to the natural, free condition of the human species. Thankfully, the erstwhile misinterpreted “will of the people” overtook the blighted vision of the founders of the Soviet experiment, forcing the ideal that humans would prefer to be the authors of their own destiny, right or wrong, and neither required nor desired the influence of a governing body to elucidate their personal hopes and dreams in a farcical display of stark ignorance.

On this particular day in history, a 45-year laundry list of human rights violations and intellectual fraudulence were laid to rest on what Ronald Reagan described as the “ash-heap of history.” On June 12, 1987, he challenged Mikhail Gorbachev to “tear down this wall;” while the wall was broken on November 9^th, 1989 (the day of the month having resounding significance to the German people since 1848), the proverbial nail in the coffin of totalitarian European governments was pounded in on October 3^rd, 1990 with the reunification of a country. The partition had hitherto represented a “division that never represented the will of the people,” as noted by a resident in the October issue of Smithsonian magazine. As a triumph of will (if one will pardon the phrase) over intellectually lacking ideology, this date in history is one that should be celebrated the world over: a committed populace, armed with the righteousness of its own existence can never be truly defeated, only delayed. This historical episode also provides future generations with a significant warning: always beware the nation the builds a fence with the barbs pointing inward.

15.0: A remembrance of Pavarotti…

It was arguably one of the best Christmas gifts I had ever received: a single ticket to Luciano Pavarotti’s concert (with full orchestra) at the Cincinnati Gardens. The asking price was $100 and the year was 1991, the height of his prowess. I suppose it goes without saying that my familial background did not typically support such extravagant gifts; nevertheless, there it was in my stocking: I was about to see the greatest tenor of all time in concert. Having said as much, I understand the arguments for Caruso, Domingo, possibly Carreras, et al for primacy (obviously I will countenance no arguments for Bocelli…the first time he can complete an aria without going sharp halfway through, I will reconsider my position), but let me try to communicate the magic that occurred that evening.

It started simply enough, the great showpiece arias, a smattering of Italian love songs, a few “popular” works, and then the intermission. Obviously, I sat on the edge of my seat the entire time- what else could I do; here was a man whose voice is instantly recognizable to millions of people, and I was listening to it live. By the time the intermission rolled around, I was completely emotionally drained…I thought he must be as well.

How wrong I was.

When he returned, he sang for no longer than three minutes before the great white handkerchief came out of his pocket. I began to notice, for the first time, his stage presence: with out-stretched arms he tried to draw the thousands into his world of passion for beautiful music. Each work stood on its own, yet I found myself asking “what will he do next?” The answer, as I found out, was simple: something even more amazing than that which preceded it. The projection screen recorded his every facial expression, every internal sigh at the ephemeral quality of the music he sang, and every imploring look at the audience to experience one fraction of the joy he felt at reproducing, in the most earnest and faithful way, the music that will outlive the current obsession with flavor-of-the-month “artists.”  I think it is safe to say that I have never seen an artist so in touch with the eternal quality of the medium with which he or she communicates.

The concert ended on a high note, if one will pardon the pun, featuring Nessun Dorma by Puccini. To say the least, the performance was breathtaking. Something happened after the final chord faded away, though: the audience, in its entirety, was on its feet; social position, occupation, income, or education had no sway over the aesthetic response of the crowd- to a person, we yelled, clapped, stamped our feet, and carried on in a general welter until he reappeared. For the encores, a curious thing happened: we stayed on our feet. Concert etiquette typically dictates that one should retake one’s seat during encores- this did not happen. In point of fact, we found ourselves leaning forward and glancing at each other as if to confirm we were actually experiencing that which we perceived to be occurring. It was the supreme irony: I would typically rather eat broken glass than to have to acknowledge the existence of another person, but there we were, clasping hands, locking eyes and shaking our heads at each other in disbelief. It was a hedonistic display if ever there was one- and I still correspond with two people I met that evening, nearly twenty years hence.

I confess that I had been mildly disappointed that he had not performed “Vesti La Guibba” during the performance. As he reappeared for a final curtain call (12 at this point, if my recollection is correct, though he holds the absolute record at 100- I suppose we were all getting tired at that point), I heard the first strains of the work, and I knew that I was about to be changed: the out-stretched arms returned, the handkerchief imploring, the eyes filled with tears, the sad expression requisite to the work, and the sheer effrontery of the amount of emotional content in the deliverance.

I have rarely witnessed its equal in my life; there have been comparable moments, but they will have to wait for another posting. Suffice it to say, I was blessed that evening: I had heard the greatest voice of all time, at its prime, singing the works that will live forever. I thank my parents for making the concert possible, I thank myself for being so infatuated with great music that I could appreciate it when I heard it, but most of all: I thank Luciano Pavarotti for being what he was- the greatest contributor to vocal music in history.

R.I.P.

14.0: Whittaker Chambers, congenital idiot.

 As may have been noted, the format of these words of wisdom has changed a bit; rather than publish in easily digestible sections, I have elected to relate my thoughts in a continuous entry. While this may seem to be dissonant with the currently lamentable attention span of the average citizen, I nonetheless came to a stark realization: no on reads my posts, ergo I have nothing to lose. With this thought firmly in mind, I submit the latest of my drunken, end-of-the-evening ravings…

Whittaker Chambers has been lionized by the right as some sort of hero; a latter-day Don Quixote, tilting at the windmill of leftist claptrap, seldom recognized for the brilliance he brought to the conservative renaissance of the late 1950s era. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Mr. Chambers was a congenital idiot.

It has always been remarkable to me that W.F. Buckley, no mean intellectual himself, could be taken so agog by the vapid commentary of this sad individual. Did he expose Alger Hiss- yes; were his assertions, so long dismissed by the left as outright chicanery borne true by recently declassified KGB documents- yes; does it truly matter in the grand scheme of life whether he was motivated by patriotism or pure narcissism- surprisingly, yes.

Chambers was the ne plus ultra definition of an attention-seeking media whore whose contributions to the human condition can be measured in the micro-grams. In attempting to paint Alger Hiss as an agent of Soviet interests, he unwittingly called himself into the public eye as exactly what he was: a self-aggrandizing puppet of irrational Red-hysteria. At first blush, I had taken his existence as a minor inconvenience to the forward progress of the American people; little did I realize exactly how wrong-headed this man’s incongruence with rational thought truly was.

This blissful ignorance was dispelled when I read his review on Ayn Rand’s masterpiece Atlas Shrugged. Having read his weak diatribe, I became convinced that he never actually read the book. To be sure, his review is peppered with direct quotes to provide some metric of validation; it is also salted with some of the most egregious misunderstandings of good literature that have ever been foisted on an unwitting public. As a brief submission of a few selected faults:

1.) Whittaker Chambers has not only demonstrated a profound misreading of Nietschze, Aristotle, and Marx, but a generalized neglect of philosophical understanding.

2.) His remarks as to the improper placing of time in the book (i.e., this is not the current reality) have not stood the test of time- the majority of the suppositions Ms. Rand asserted have been borne true by the passage of years- all within the context of Congressional “reforms” spawned in the timeframe she references. It is important to note that I do not condemn Mr. Chambers for being wrong as regards the subject: I nevertheless damn him for not correcting his earlier mistakes as the passage of time has proved his positions untenable.

3.) As he is a venerable icon of the right, it strikes me as ironic that he abuses Ms. Rand’s vision of unfettered capitalism as a profound good; to be frightfully honest, he has the unmistakable odor of a closet socialist (I will never capitalize that word) who is uncomfortable with his role as a darling of the right.

4.) With no recourse to skewer the book on its logical and rhetorical principles, Mr. Chambers devolves into a religious diatribe that centers on the book’s lack the guiding hand of “god.” The mere fact that he needed to stoop to this level surely alerts the reader as to the true value of his review.

5.) “Out of a lifetime of reading, I can recall no other book in which a tone of overriding arrogance was so implacably sustained. Its shrillness is without reprieve. Its dogmatism is without appeal.” Well said, Mr. Chambers: the only counter example I can think of is your review.

While I have never been known as a friend of the left, I can think of no greater caricature of intellectual fraud perpetrated by members of the right as the pitiful figure of Whittaker Chambers: a schoolboy shouting “he done it” among greater intellects, hoping that his mumbled voice will be perceived as the clarion to usher in a new age: mission failed. One can only hope that with the passage of time, this fraud of an “important voice” will be drowned out by those more cognitively gifted than he; by this I mean at least 80% of the population.

Whittaker Chambers, R.I.P.- and stay there.    

P.S. If you don’t believe me about the egregious misunderstanding of the aforementioned novel, check out W. C.’s original review at http://www.nationalreview.com/articles/222482/big-sister-watching-you/flashback?page=3

Palin Agonistes 13.2: …into the ears of the deaf.

Needless to say, the idea of someone’s time being worth a figure of five digits seems beyond the pale. Given the person in question, it is an outright mockery of capitalism. To whom, then, should the withering glance be cast? The answer is astoundingly simple: anyone involved in the whole sordid process. To borrow from Zola, J’accuse:

            1.) Bristol Palin: for being able to face herself in the mirror, comfortable in the knowledge that an hour’s worth of her musings on life are worth $15,000 at a minimum.

            2.) Prospective event organizers: for agreeing with Ms. Palin as delineated above.

            3.) Prospective attendees of said events: for giving tacit approval to the whole concept by willingly purchasing a ticket.

Granted, there are a host of others who rightfully deserve acerbic condemnation, but the twin demons of time and available space have conjoined to preclude further remonstration.

Bristol Palin is the product of contemporary attitudes towards politics: spectacle at the expense of substance. In her defense, I doubt very highly that she ever intended to be thrust into the national consciousness in so coarse a manner. Nevertheless, her actions indicate that she fully plans to reap the benefits of our (by which I mean people who are neither me nor my ever-shrinking circle of friends and well-wishers) fascination with the trivial and mediocre. In the strictest terms of empty-words-for-money, she is not alone: Bill Clinton regularly commands $150,000 for a single speech. However, consider the mathematics: at her lowest asking price, Bristol Palin is asserting that her viewpoints are at least one tenth as impacting as a man who, for better or worse, was the most powerful person in the world for eight years.

Have we become so enamored of the transient, fleeting qualities of shallow fame that we are singularly unable to focus our attention on the worthwhile persons of consequence who exist in our facile-minded country? Have we traded the timeless wisdom of the Founders or the wealth of brilliant art, literature, and music produced by our fellow compatriots for the mindless eructation spewed forth from the mouths of babes (meant strictly in the literary vice misogynistic tone)? I am not suggesting that our lives be dictated such that the occasional guilty pleasure may not be enjoyed, but consider: how many people have taken the time to read the Declaration of Independence as compares to the number of people who have read The Da Vinci Code? Our political identity is inextricably woven into the preponderance of illogical passion for the spectacle of gaffes and foibles perpetrated by persons who, absent their public exposure, we would not willingly invite to dinner. Bristol Palin has chosen (most likely unwittingly) to derive financial gain from this morass; I wish her the best of luck: her actions tend to be remarkably adept at validating my beliefs as to the overall direction of the grand experiment that is the United States of America.