I am surprised at my reaction to the Artemis II mission. I mean, it's a huge bucket of money to throw at well connected aerospace contractors - and one that imperils the astronauts because it's so expensive that they couldn't really test the heat shield.
And yet suddenly it's 1968 and the teachers are rolling televisions into the classroom so we can watch the spaceships return to Earth.
Sure, it's crazy expensive, but we just sent men people around the damn Moon.
And we did it without that ridiculous Metric System ...
For a moment, America is the Old America that can do things.
Sure, NASA spends taxpayer money like a drunken sailor. Sure, Congress is using this program to throw taxpayer money at favored corporations.
But today, no other country can do what we are doing, just like what Old America did half a century ago. And no other country has a SpaceX waiting in the wings to drop mission cost by a factor of 40.
Considering the epic amount of fraud from California's (and other states) Medicare programs (not to mention Learing Centers), all I can say is that this is waste I can get behind.
This is Jeremy Clarkson from 1998, four years before he rebooted the Top Gear show. They still had F-14s on the carrier. This is a very cool look back to Old America when it still was America.
This week is Thanksgiving* and so calls for what is perhaps the most American of all classical music, Aaron Copeland's Appalachian Spring. Most of the composers we see here on Sunday Classical were child prodigies, going to the Paris Conservatoire before they were 12 years old or such. Not so with Copeland, who was a distinctly American self-made-man story.
His family wasn't musical, and when he was young you would have thought that his older brother was the only musical talent in the family. He got his first piano lessons from his older sister, who he was very close to - but that only took him so far. And so he signed up for a Music Correspondence Course and got lucky. His teacher was a no-nonsense German who schooled him in Romantic era composers. As he said later in life, "This was a stroke of luck for me. I was spared the floundering that so many musicians have suffered through incompetent teaching."
What stuck ended up making him hugely popular with general audiences in the USA. His Fanfare For The Common Man is perhaps his most recognizable work. Artistically, you can compare this with Norman Rockwell's famous Freedom Of Speech painting:
Artistically, you can pair Appalachian Spring with Rockwell's Freedom From Want painting. You cannot find a more iconic portrait of Thanksgiving than this:
Of course the "Serious" Art Establishment hated both Rockwell and Copeland. Audiences didn't care, since both artists captured the essence of America itself. And so spend some time with this music which is accompanied with a lovely series of photographs of the Appalachian Mountains. They too, capture the essence of America itself.
If you are of a certain age, you will remember this Pultizer Prize winning photograph of a US Air Force officer returning from the Hanoi Hilton in 1974.
Dwight has the details, and it is quite a sad story. Rest In Peace, COL Stirm. I hope you now truly have the opportunity to put out your hand and touch the face of God.
This song is an anthem from Old America. I listened to this as a teenager, and you (Old Farts) know how old I am. This is from a time when politics was not Uber Alles, and when Americans could have civil conversations even if they were in opposite parties.
ASM836 has been posting about how he went on a road trip and found that Old America is sill here. This song sings to that, even if Arlo was a Commie Bastard - and son of a Commie Bastard - but he endorsed Ron Paul (!). Because back then we were always America First, even back in the 1970s. I think that this proves my point, that we shouldn't hate Americans because they are in the other political party.
Riding on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central, Monday morning rail; There are fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders, Three conductors, twenty five sacks of mail. They're all out on a southbound odyssey The train rolls out of Kankakee Rolling past the houses, farms and fields, Passing trains that have no names Freight yards full of old black men, And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.
Singing, "Good morning, America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son. I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
I was dealing cards with the old men in the club car, It's a penny a point, there ain't no-one keeping score. Won't you pass the paper bag that holds that bottle, You can feel the wheels a-rumbling through the floor. And the sons of Pullman porters and the sons of engineers Ride their fathers' magic carpet made of steam; Mothers with their babes asleep, rocking to the gentle beat, The rhythm of the rails is all they dream.
Singing, "Good morning, America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son. I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
Nighttime on the City of New Orleans, Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee. It's halfway home, and we'll be there by morning, Through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea. But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream, The old steel rail it ain't heard the news, The conductor sings his song again, it's, "Passengers will please refrain..." This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.
Singing, "Good night, America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son. I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. And I'll be gone five hundred miles when day is done."
Singing, "Good night, America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son. I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans. And I'll be gone a long, long time when the day is done."
As with all great songs about America, this is bitter sweet. This was once the artery that pumped blood between America's different regions. Now - in the 1970s - it was dying as a passenger system.
But people remembered what it was. Here's the Highwaymen who did this almost as well as Arlo. Waylon makes this almost what it was. Sure, Willie carries this, but watch Waylon.
America is not gone. Art tells us what it was, and is, and can be.
That's what ASM826 is telling us. America is here. Just look around.
The most Bad Ass Indian tribe in the old west was not the Lakota that did in the 7th Cavalry, but rather the Comanche. S. C. Gwynne tells their tale well in The Empire Of The Summer Moon.
Essentially they were ferocious and highly mobile guerillas who thought nothing of raiding a thousand miles (from Kansas into Mexico), often - maybe usually - riding at night by the light of the moon.
To this day a summertime full moon is often referred to (at least in Texas) as a "Comanche Moon). In fact, that was the title of a miniseries set in the old west not so very long ago.
The book does a great job describing the rise of the Comanche from obscure beginning to their domination of the central Great Plains. They were the best horsemen in North America and the masters of the hit-and-run. They put so much pressure on settled tribes (not to mention Spanish colonists) that they essentially stopped Spanish advancement north of the Rio Grande. The book makes the case that the Mexican government invited the Americans into Texas to act as a buffer between Mexico and the Comanches. The Texas border with them was bloody and settlement was slow.
The end of the Civil War and the introduction of repeating firearms (and light horse artillery), combined with the slaughter of the bison herds was a problem that the Comanches could never solve. Even so, Kit Carson admitted that their chief Quanah Parker (son of a kidnapped Texas girl who went native in the tribe) almost wiped out his entire command. The second half of the book is Quanah's story, from the greatest war chief of the Plains to the Reservation, and ultimately to his unlikely friendship with Teddy Roosevelt.
Highly, highly recommended.
The book left out what I think is perhaps the most unlikely Comanche story, that of David Pendleton Okenhater. Born as O-kun-ha-tuh (Making Medicine) in the 1840s, he was in the thick of the Comanche wars of the 1860s - he was with Quanah at the Second Battle of Adobe Walls. In prison at Ft. Marion in Florida in the 1870s he ended up as First Sergeant of the prisoners (really!) and was noticed by Capt. Pratt for the art he was creating (really!). Pratt encouraged his art career and one of his pieces came into the collection of Mrs. Alice Key Pendleton, wife of a Senator from Ohio (really!). The Pendletons paid for Okenhater to be sent to live at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in New York. He took their name out of respect and gratitude.
He was baptized there in 1878 and ordained a deacon in 1881. As a Deacon he was sent essentially as a missionary back to the Cheyenne. He lived out his life as a Deacon and a Cheyenne Chief until his death in 1931. That was a long way from a taker of scalps. A long way.
In 1985, the Episcopal Church declared David Pendleton Okenhater a saint. His feast day is September 1. That's quite some Medicine for O-Kun-Ha-Tuh to make.
We did it by treated German POWs held in the USA well. Not just the US Government, but the American people treated them well. They had been told by the Nazis that America was weak, divided, and a mongrel race. The POWs saw the American people and society with their own eyes and then went home after the war.
And then built modern Germany.
We came to America as enemies, as Nazis, as believers in a lie. We left as friends, as democrats, as men who had seen the truth.
Many of the POWs who were employed on Kansas farms corresponded for decades with the families who showed them friendship as POW workers.
Playback has been disabled for this video (from which I got the quote above), but I encourage every reader to go watch it. If you don't - like I did - end up with watery eyes then we just cant be friends anymore. And to those who think this video is a one-off, there are more. So many more. You can watch them at the link (from Youtube suggestions) or you can watch this:
And a note to the Usual Suspects who fancy themselves as "Anti Nazi": this is what anti-Nazi is really about. This is how you turn actual, you know - Nazis - into anti-Nazis. It must really bust your chops to have Primary Sources telling you that your philosophy of life is full of shiest. You Commie Bastards.
Oh, this will too (note the substitution of the word freiheit - freedom - for freunde - I could translate for you but I wouldn't want to insult you; me, I think that Schiller would have approved of Bernstein's substitution at the fall of the Berlin Wall).
Porgy & Bess was first performed in 1935 and sadly has peaked. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was popular in the Soviet Union during the Cold War as a display of American repression - the 1980s film White Nights showcased this.. It seems that the Usual Suspects who control popular culture are not subtle enough to line this into their repertoire of anti-American art, but whatever.
This is without doubt the most famous song from that opera, and has been recorded by pretty much everybody - Janis Joplin & The Holding Company may have been the most unexpected of these. Here's Ella Fitzgerald with what approaches the Platonic Ideal performance of the song.
I was born by God's dear Grace in an extraordinary place. Happy Birthday to that place.
I pledge allegiance to that flag, and if that bothers you, well that's too bad.
But if you have pride and you're proud you do, we could use a some more like me and you. Glen Filthie, this means you. You're already half way thrown out of your current place. The air smells of freedom here ...
Well, if you ask me where I come from Here's what I tell everyone I was born by God's dear grace In an extraordinary place Where the stars and stripes and the eagle fly
It's a big ol' land with countless dreams Happiness ain't out of reach Hard work pays off the way it should Yeah, I've seen enough to know that we've got it good Where the stars and stripes and the eagle fly
There's a lady that stands in a harbor for what we believe And there's a bell that still echoes the price that it cost to be free
I pledge allegiance to this flag And if that bothers you, well, that's too bad But if you got pride and you're proud you do Hey, we could use some more like me and you Where the stars and stripes and the eagle fly
Yes, there's a lady that stands in a harbor for what we believe And there's a bell that still echoes the price that it cost to be free
No, it ain't the only place on earth But it's the only place that I prefer To love my wife and raise my kids Hey, the same way that my daddy did Where the stars and stripes and the eagle fly Where the stars and stripes and the eagle fly
This song sums up the current Cold Civil War here on the shores of the New World*. It also sums up the increasing Cold War between Western Europe** and the USA under the Trump Administration. It's a fundamental disconnect between world views - us vs. them***.
All I can say is that God spared Donald Trump last summer for a purpose. That statement probably bothers some people.
Well, that's too bad****.
* I only use the term to bother the Usual Suspects.
** Ibid
*** Well, except for the European oppressed political minorities, like the AfD, Marine Le Pen, Tommy Robinson, et al.
**** Damn, this has turned into a rant. I guess that calls for a clarification. Maybe it's not a rant, it's a desire for a Reckoning:
So this guy has a hydraulic press and he runs both a 100 year old American sledge hammer and a new (Harbor Freight looking) Chinese one through it. The old one was unscathed; the new one gets squished.
A sledge hammer gets squished.
But then the guy returns the old one into like new condition. If you like old tools, this is 8 minutes worth your while.
The National Portrait Gallery has acquired the oldest photo of a First Lady, an 1846 daguerreotype of Dolly Madison. This is a very cool picture, as it captures some of her personality - people chose very formal poses back then. No smiling. Except for a hint of a smile from Dolly.
The Queen of the World and I were talking today, remembering the bicentennial celebration in 1976. She pointed out that two years from now will be the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Wow.
Theship'sremarkable speed earned it the coveted Blue Riband award from Great Britain upon its maidenvoyagein 1952. Partially sponsored by the U.S. government during the Cold War era, it was designed as a potential rapidtroopcarrier if geopolitical tensions escalated, according tothe websitefor the SS United States Conservancy, the nonprofit organization that has overseen the vessel since 2011.
Despite its high level of regard and richhistory, the ship faces an uncertain future as it languishes at Pier 82 in southPhiladelphia. Its retirement has been fraught with challenges, including the recent threat of eviction due to a lawsuit from Pier 82's landlord, Penn Warehousing, according toan NPR reporton Monday, March 11.
The lawsuit alleges the SS United States Conservancy owes between $700,000 and $800,000 in back rent, Warren Jones, one of the conservancy's board members, told the radio station. He said the organization entered into the agreement more than a decade ago, and during thepandemic, the rent was unjustly doubled.
This story is of interest to TQOTW, since she actually was a passenger on that ship. Her dad was in the Air Force and posted to the UK in the early 1960s; they returned from PCS on this. It's sad to see what the ship has become from what it used to be. TQOTW watched this with me and remembered all sorts of things, like the signal flags at the swimming pool.
That was a different world, and people would rather spend 8 hours on a plane than 5 days on a ship, even one as grand as the United States.
The mid-20th Century was the high point of the much appreciated and much lamented in its passing "Mid-Brow"* culture: a set of societal expectations that a properly educated man or woman should know certain (respectable) things and behave in certain (respectable) ways. One of these things that people were expected to know was classical music. There were two great popularizers of mid-brow music: Leonard Bernstein, and Arthur Fiedler.
Bernstein was a musical genius, who wrote fabulous music. "West Side Story" is perhaps most famous, but "Candide" is perhaps his greatest composition. Of course he was a dirty commie bastard, but there's no denying his influence on the Mid-Brow public.
Arthur Fiedler was the long time conductor of the Boston Symphony and (more famously) the Boston Pops which became perhaps the most famous Mid-Brow orchestra ever. Fiedler joined the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1915 (!) and graduated to cunductor in 1930. He remained conductor of the Symphony and the Pops for the next half century.
His career was the apogee of Mid-Brow culture in America. All 3 networks plus PBS covered the July 4, 1976 Pops concert from Boston live. All of them. After all, people were expected to behave in particular (respectable) ways.
Alas for the America of my youth. Here's a delightful musical album of the 1959 Boston Pops Christmas. Sadly, Youtube tells me that this has only 173 views. Alas for the America of my youth, indeed.
* Not the hoity-toity High Brow set, and certainly not the Low Brow set. Mid-Brow, the sweet spot.
Alternate title: how The United States accidentally committed suicide.
Co-blogger and Brother-From-Another-Mother ASM826 and I have had a number of conversations lately about how when we both started blogging 15 years ago, we still had hope. Yes, I cribbed the alternate title from histories of Rome, but there's a fateful dynamic at play today that mirrors what played out back then.
In 400 AD, Rome stood tall. Sure, there were problems, but Rome was the only super power. 76 years later, it no longer existed.* It was simply unable to respond effectively to the barbarian invasions - the problem wasn't a military one, it was structural. The Legions were still strong, but the ruling elite could not use them effectively to keep the barbarians out. You see, they didn't want to keep them out.
Barbarian hordes were an opportunity to various members of the elite. The rewards of power and wealth to those at the top of the Roman Empire were so unbelievably vast that, well, a wandering barbarian horde might be able to be used to put somebody new on the throne. And so the elites played 27 Dimensional Chess against each other until the Empire was overwhelmed. What temporarily helped local Senators and Provincial Governors quite frankly led to the downfall of them all. I'm looking at you, Constantine III.
And so to today. The Ruling Class in this Republic is institutionally incapable of dealing with the problems facing the Republic because they don't want to. Indeed, there is a dynamic at work: never let a crisis go to waste. This has come about in a shockingly short time - twenty years or so.
But this happened to Rome as well. Between 410 and 430 AD, the Eternal City itself was sacked and Spain and Africa were lost to the Empire - and with them went the tax revenue that had supported the Legions. Today we have a President who is a feeble-minded puppet; the Emperor Honorious was (at the time) compared to a jellyfish.
The grandeur that was America was very great indeed, but so was Roman grandeur. Sic transit Gloria Mundi, and all that.
Entering this Independence Day weekend I wish I could be more optimistic. I leave you with a song from the dark days after 9/11, a reflection of a time when the grandeur of this Republic was great, even though the dynamic that has led us here was already formed.
