Phantom Dancer Radio Show

Tuesday 17 Nov 12 noon 107.3 2SER-FM Sydney (Sydney is +11 GMT)
Sunday 22 Nov 6:30am 107.3 2SER-FM Sydney (repeat)

Live streamed over http://www.2ser.com/stream

The Phantom Dancer plays swing, jazz & dance from live 1920s – 60s radio & TV shows every Tuesday & Sunday…

This week’s highlights include lots of live swing, jazz & dance by Joe Sanders Nighthawks in 1937, Ralph Flanagan’s Orchestra in 1950 and Miles Davis with John Coltrane & Cannonball Adderley broadcasting from Washington in 1959

You can see the FULL PLAYLIST below or click on the radio page of http://www.gregpoppleton.com where you’ll ALSO SEE the Phantom Dancer’s VIDEO OF THE WEEK…………

THIS WEEK’S VIDEO – Subliminal Chevrolet Ad 1959
Dinah Shore & Pat Boone demonstrate subliminal advertising. The subliminal message has been altered a little to suit modern times. See it on the Radio Show page of http://www.gregpoppleton.com. Enjoy!

via AlterNet

Sigh. Pat Boone. What are we gonna do with you?

All manner of parasites, vermin, roaches, rats, worms and termites find their way into the building. Long before they’re detected, they infiltrate the walls, the floors, the roofs – and then chew their way into the structure, the supporting beams and the very foundation of the house itself. Silently, surreptitiously, whole communities of invaders make places for themselves, hidden but thriving, totally unknown by the homeowner.

Then, in time, tell-tale signs are seen. Little droppings, discolored trails, proliferating piles of residue appear in corners, on tabletops, little hanging sacs from ceilings – alarming evidence that the grand old dwelling has been invaded. Decidedly unwelcome creatures have made this place their home, and by their very existence will eventually destroy the house and bring it to ruin. [...]

Our White House is being eaten away from within. We urgently need to throw a “tent” of public remonstration and outcry over that hallowed abode, to cause them to quake and hunker down inside. And then treat the invaders, the alien rodents, to massive voter gas – the most lethal antidote to would-be tyrants and usurpers.We must clean house – starting with our own White House.

Not that I’m exactly an Obama fan, because I’m sooooo not, but this is ridiculous.  For one, Obama isn’t a “usurper;” he won the election fair and square (unlike the ass who came before him).

Pat Boone’s obnoxiousness has been on my radar ever since I watched a documentary called FUCK, which is about people’s thoughts toward the word:

Yeah, well…Boone you, dude.

Pat Boone likes to portray himself as a clean cut, apple pie and mom loving, God-fearing, white buck shoe wearing, mister nice guy American. On Halloween, however, he showed us his true colors. In an act of pure iniquity, Mr. Boone, finally acting like the two-bit whore he really is, stripped off his costume, and exposed himself for the person he really is.

We finally got to see the real Mr. Boone, the man not hidden behind a theatrical, special effects make over. What we saw was an evil, hateful, wicked, hypocritical and detestable, (and I really believe) racist moron. And I’m being kind here in describing this bootlicking, bottom-feeding, back stabbing, reptile that tries to pass himself off as a man of virtue and righteousness.

In a column/blog written for the worldnetdaily.com, our Bernadette-loving, Chevrolet-driving sycophant refers to the occupants of the White House as parasites, vermin, et al. He calls for a tenting. He calls for the administration of a lethal ( yes as in dead, yes as in kill, yes as in murder) fumigant.

Mr. Boone asks, “Who gave him this right? Don’t the people he’s supposed to serve have a say in something this ominous? “

Yo, Mr. Boone. We had an election. One year ago today. And millions, tens of millions voted for the man now occupying the White House. We the People gave him this right. We the People spoke. We the People did have a say in getting him where he is and you myopic, slandering fool, we do not have an Emperor running our government. We have a process of government. We have a legislature that serves as a balance of the executive branch. The battle over health care reform fully demonstrates that the system of government that we cherish works despite idiots like you.

Wake up and be a man. There are no “socialists, extreme leftists and even proud, boastful Marxists and Communists” running around the White House.

And please, do us all a favor, when you go into your character assassination mode, use facts, not distortions before you wipe your anger over people like Van Jones, Ron Boom and Ed Montgomery.

But being a man is beyond you. Living as a man as God has asked of us is also beyond you.

All I can say is Damn You, Pat Boone, Damn you. And yes, I ran into my garage, found your records and immediately threw them out in the garbage where they and you belong.

And if anything needs tenting, it’s that empty space between your ears that should be cleansed.

Joe Farah prints domestic terrorist columns  on World Net Daily.

Used to be three songs for .50, seven for a dollar. Uploaded by sparklette.net.

I’d like to take this opportunity to explain how jukeboxes work. I’d like to, but I don’t have the foggiest idea. All I know is that you put in your fifty cents, and to hear the first of your three songs you hit A and 7 for “Eli’s Coming” by Three Dog Night.

Jukeboxes are the logical, if not technological heir to nickelodeons, the first play for pay devices. The machines played 78 rpm records until the Seeburg Corporation introduced the 45 rpm jukebox in 1950.

Uploaded to Flickr by mjanean.

Of course, the fifties were the golden age of jukeboxes, when kids would gather at the malt shop to hear Bill Haley, Ricky Nelson, and Pat Boone perform “white” versions of great R&B songs. Whether they actually went to malt shops I can’t say, but it’s permanently etched into our cultural pantheon by movies like American Graffiti, and TV shows such as Happy Days.

My favorite type was the tableside jukebox, or wallbox. At first they were little more than remote controls that signaled the main jukebox what to play. But later they had their own speakers, so the tinny sound was right there at your booth.

By the way, the term “jukebox” apparently comes from a “juke joint”, and juke comes from a Gullah word meaning disorderly or rowdy. Of course, this information comes from Wikipedia, so I’m sure it’s accurate. I’d say 75, maybe 80 percent accurate.

Here’s that first jukebox to hold 45s:

This is a great list of songs that debuted on the Hot 100 during the month of October. There are some interesting songs on this list of number one songs. The shortest #1 in history is here; Stay by Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs. It is only 1:39 long. Notice the Supremes had a number one from October for every year from 1964 to 1969, except for 1967. They did have 2 number ones in 1967, but both came out early that year.

For me, I did not have a favorite from this list. Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton is as close as I could come to picking just one but there were about 5 that were close. I am an oldie fan but I would not have been able to tell you that a group named Steam sang Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye. But it was 1969 and, for me, that was not a good year in music.

What is your favorite (or favorites) from this list? Any good memories from these tunes from the past?

Good Vibrations – Beach Boys – 1966

Come Together – Beatles – 1969

April Love – Pat Boone – 1957

Turn! Turn! Turn! – Byrds – 1965

You Send Me – Sam Cooke – 1957

I’m Leaving It Up To You – Dale & Grace – 1963

Runaround Sue – Dion – 1961

Big Girls Don’t Cry – Four Seasons – 1962

Ringo – Lorne Greene – 1964

Tom Dooley – Kingston Trio – 1958

Brand New Key – Melanie – 1971

The Tears of a Clown – Miracles – 1970

Singing the Blues – Guy Mitchell – 1956

Heartaches by the Number – Guy Mitchell – 1959

Winchester Cathedral – New Vaudeville Band – 1966

I Think I Love You – Partridge Family – 1970

Leaving on a Jet Plane – Peter, Paul & Mary – 1969

Running Bear – Johnny Preston – 1959

Get Off Of My Cloud – Rolling Stones – 1965

Leader Of the Pack – Shangri-Las – 1964

Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye – Steam – 1969

Baby Love – Supremes – 1964

I Hear a Symphony – Supremes – 1965

You Keep Me Hangin’ On – Supremes – 1966

Love Child – Supremes – 1968

Someday We’ll Be Together – Supremes – 1969

Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone – Temptations – 1972

Mr. Lonely – Bobby Vinton – 1964

Stay – Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs – 1960

Elvis Presley burst onto the scene with his gyrating hips, long hair, and blue suede shoes; girls screamed at the sight of his swiveling torso, boys envied and tried to copy that greasy, long pompadoured mop of hair. Oh, those sultry eyes, and pouting lips!

The girls swooned, the mothers pretended to be horrified (thoughts of Valentino running through their heads). Dads simply did not know what was going on. It was a different era–those days of three channel (if you were lucky) television.

That famous authority, “THEY”, declared these two instruments of evil, Elvis with his blue suede shoes, and TV, meant the end of the world, a young generation could not survive .

A culture evolved comprised of three elements. The devotees, the groupies, and the wanabees. They moved, they rocked, they imitated their royal leaders.

The outcaste were the couchies, they lay around, watched it all on TV, but did nothing. They believed what “THEY” said. “Why ruin whatever life was left, expending all that energy?” this group rationalized.

Now Daddy knew about these bad boys and he did not want his little girl corrupted by them. Besides he had it on good authority, “THEY” said they were only fit to be beat. (If you don‘t like ‘em, beat’em, but don’t kill’em, that’ll teach ‘em)

On the other hand, there was this nice kid dressed in a white suit, pink shirt, pink tie, white suede shoes with pink socks who drove decent females wild!! Why, what Mother’s heart did not flutter when he did that sweet little two-step foot lift gently snappping his fingers and smiling so sweetly into the black and white TV camera, crooning “A white sport coat and a pink carnation.”

Humm, interestingly, the same elements of Elvis’ developing culture surrounded this idol of perfection!

Mama made sure Dad watched this evidence of innocence and purity; TV was the instrument declaring this truth of Salvation for the young ones. Hallelujah!!

“Oh, I hope Susie can meet some nice guy just like Pat. Can you believe Pat’s suit and shoes are white , everything else including his socks are pink!” (Mom is already on an intimate first name basis with this Adonis) “She’ll marry somebody like Pat, won‘t she, Hun.” she purred dreamily. (In those days, every good mother’s one goal in life, was to get her daughter married to a good man.)

Now, Dads were not stupid . “I’m sure she will, Sweetheart,” is his answer to sweet, innocent Mom.

But what was he thinking?

“That guy is as sissy as he…..!! Woman! he wears a pink shirt, tie and socks, for pete’s sake, I’ll bet he doesn’t have the bal… gumption to tell his mother he would rather wear a dark suit and some regular dark socks and shoes!! Heck no! I hope she has a little better sense than that!!”

But he continues:

“I know when that day comes, Susie is going to make us proud. She’d never go for somebody like that guy, I happened to see when I was turning through the three channels last night , Elvis or something, I think they said, I was just turning through, you know. Not her type at all! I hear “THEY” say he is ruining all the young people.”

But what was he thinking?

“I sure hope to hel… heck, she finds somebody with enough bal…gumption not to come to the wedding in a white sport coat with a damn pink carnation sticking out the buttonhole. She’d probably make me wear the same sissy getup! I’ll have to stand there smiling like an idiot, Why, the rented pant legs will probably be highwaters so everybody will be laughing at my pink socks!

I’m sure glad TV’s not in color! They’d be wearing purple pants and painting their hair green and she’d expect me to dress like………..” He continues to build an outrageous scenario in his mind, all because he did not have the bal.. gumption to tell the truth. He should have said “UnnHuu” and let it drop.

The years passed, the young people and the entertainment industry matured.

The world survived.

The contaminated Elvis element, somehow, united with the pure society of the “White Sport Coat With Pink Carnation”. They produced a hybrid society like none that has existed before, “THEY” say.

Gyrating, almost (sometimes) naked bodies, swirl forth, via high definition broadcast from literally thousands of sources twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Nothing is left to the imagination, Elvis seems a wannabee angel fallen from perfection and Pat appears unbelievably pure when compared to today’s standard.

The message is proclaimed far and wide by the educational, political, and religious elements of our society , “This evil must stop!”

The economic institution smiles, gives lip service to change, but behind closed doors, in symbolically smoky rooms, they sneer with greedy smiles.

“Roll on, Baby, roll on”.

It’s far too often I have an idea for a blog entry and never get around to actually writing it.  I think I need to shift gears and focus on shorter, more frequent posts, instead of trying to write major essays.  I’ll do so in the hope that it adds up to an as-yet-unseen whole.  I read a wonderful intervew of Lydia Peelle by Gillian Welch in the recent issue of Bomb.  In it, Peelle talks about sequencing a collection of stories and making choices about what to include while trying to have a sense of the whole.  Welch says the same goes for her when making an album’s worth of songs.  Oddly, even though my home is overflowing with albums, I’ve never though of one in that way – like a photo album, a collection of things carefully and intentionally assembled.  I’ve now read three of Peelle’s stories and listened to her read one on line.  I’m very excited about reading the rest of her book, Reasons for and Advantages of Breathing. 

Speaking of albums, I have yet to organize the pictures from the summer road trips, but I want to return to the original concept for this post.  Over Labor Day weekend, we continued our exploration of America with stops in 4 previously unknown (to us) corners of this great land:

1- Union City, PA.  We were there for a wedding of a former nanny for our boys, held on her family’s farm.  On a beautiful late summer day on a hilltop looking over the little valley that holds her childhood home, a bluegrass band played while a horse-drawn wagon arrived with the wedding party.  We shared a harvest meal in a giant tent while the kids played in the barn, watched the horses (a brother and sister), and counted the endless stars in the country sky.

2- Presque Isle, PA.  This dozen or so mile long peninsula juts out into Lake Erie right next to the city of Erie.  Little did we know we’d find a monument to Commodore Perry and the war of 1812, endless pathways for bikes and roller bladers, and pristine beaches.  On one we found a collection of kite enthusiasts who gather there to take advantage of being out in the lake, open to strong winds and few beach  bathers.

3- The Geauga County Fair in Northeastern Ohio.  For a while we were worried that we would be the only ones there as we drove along winding roads infrequently dotted with little houses and farms.  Until we hit the traffic – miles of it waiting to get into the fair.  Geauga County knows how to have a fair – it rivaled the Wisconsin State Fair in number of rides, food booths, and bad tattoos.  We took the boys to their first truck and tractor pull and witnessed first hand the bitter Ford vs. Chevy rivalry.  We were there for the first hour of an event that would go until midnight, but heard plenty of loud engines struggling through the dirt to pull the load before the weight transfer machine ground to a halt and the John Deere tractors re-groomed the surface for the next driver.

4- Shipshewana, IN.  Giant signs advertising a Pat Boone concert outside of the enormous Blue Gate Restaurant were just the start of our adventures.  For the boys it was their first look at the Amish, and they were excited to see a horse and buggy pull up next to us at the gas station.  The food was fantastic – I think apple butter will now be a staple in our home as well.  We didn’t buy any furniture but we did talk about the way the Amish live as we drove around, seeing people enjoying a simpler life.  We were a bit confused by the Amish kids we saw sending text messages at the truck and tractor pull the day before, but we’ll save that for another day.  See photo below (coming tomorrow).

Kind of Blue as I head off to bed, completing the pun of this post’s title 

Den här dagen i musikhistorien:

Ain’t That a Shame med Pat Boone toppade Billboard Hot 100 listan i två veckor. (1955)

Ringo Starr släppte albumet Ringo’s Rotogravure (1976)

Fleetwood Mac inledde sin återföreningsturné (1997)

We have lost several notables so far this month, one of whom, was directly involved with writing some well-remembered old time radio shows.

09-11-2009
Larry Gelbart, 81, American comedy writer (M*A*S*H)
died of cancer

This is the first of an 8 part interview.
Click here to see the remaining videos on Youtube.

Although Larry Gelbart will be most remembered for M*A*S*H, during the 1940s, Gelbart began working as a writer for Fanny Brice’s radio show, and as a gag writer for Danny Thomas.  After a brief stint in the army, where he wrote for Armed Forces Radio, Gelbart joined the writing staff of Duffy’s Tavern, a popular radio program.  He also wrote for Bob Hope, whom he followed to television. . . . . In the early 1950s, Gelbart became part of the extraordinarily talented crew of writers on Sid Caesar’s Your Show of Shows. This group, which included Carl Reiner, Howard Morris, Mel Brooks and Woody Allen, in addition to Gelbart, helped define the medium in its earlier days. Shortly after becoming head writer for The Pat Boone Show, Gelbart became disgusted by broadcasting’s communist witch-hunts and moved to England.  While in London, he continued to work in British film and television.  Read more

 
09-12-2009
George Eckstein, 81, American television writer
and producer (The Fugitive)
died of lung cancer

09-14-2009
Patrick Swayze, 57, American actor (Dirty Dancing, Ghost)
died of pancreatic cancer

09-16-2009*
Henry Gibson, 73, American actor (Laugh-In, Boston Legal)
died of cancer

09-16-2009
Mary Travers, 72, American singer
(Peter, Paul and Mary If I Had A Hammer; Puff, The Magic Dragon)
died of leukemia

*At the time of this posting, Wikipedia is stating that henry Gibson died on 09-14-2009.  All other Google hits are claiming 09-16-2009.

I Had To repost this article from PJ Miller (blog name Sola Dei Gloria)

Good reading – John S.

Born ‘into’ Christianity

Wingnut welfare cup runneth over

John Fogerty’s new album is out, and it’s a collection of his versions of (for the most part) old rock and country numbers.

There are a couple of susprises, for those who think they know Fogerty’s taste. “Garden Party” isn’t one — he’s enough of a Rick Nelson fan to have given the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction speech.

But John Denver? Yes, evidently. Fogerty performs “Back Home Again.”

But what brings the album up here is Fogerty’s rendition of “Moody River,” a song first popularized by an early teen idol.

As Fogerty mentioned to L.A. Times guy Randy Lewis in an interview promoting the album,

“If the choice was between Elvis and Pat Boone in the ’50s, I guess you know which side I came down on,” Fogerty said, a wry smile coming to his lips. “But ‘Moody River’ is a great song, and Pat sang his butt off on that one.”

I have some familiarity with the song; it’s history is a story (originally published in my notes for a Bear Family box set that may even surprise Fogerty.

Gary Bruce was a young Nashville singer who worked on a weekly variety show hosted by disc jockey Noel Ball. Frank Slay was a record producer out of Philadelphia (his hits included Silhouettes by The Rays and all of Freddy Cannon’s singles), who had started his own Southern Sounds label, and was in town looking “for a young man, 19-20 years old, to sign to his label”, says Bruce.

“It was along about the time the Everly Brothers had ‘Ebony Eyes’ and Mark Dinning had ‘Teen Angel.’ Noel said if I could write a death song that was tasteful, I’d have a smash. And that’s what I came up with.”

Ball suggested a meeting with Slay. A recording session ensued, which came to halt when Bruce kept popping the “p” on the phrase “more deadly than the sharpest knife.” He rewrote the phrase on the spot. That the result – “more deadly than the vainest knife” – didn’t make any sense didn’t seem to hurt anything. Bruce’s single, issued as by Chase Webster, failed to hit outside of Nashville. Pat continues the story:

“Noel Ball in Nashville told me about the Chase Webster record, and suggested it to me. Milt [Rogers] arranged it a little higher than my key so I wouldn’t sound croonerish; more desperate. . After the session, I went over to a friend’s house with Shirley. When we were saying goodbye, KFWB was in the background, and I heard the intro – I said ‘wait, I’ve been doing that song all afternoon!’

[Dot Records chief] Randy [Wood] had cut an acetate and took it to [program director] Chuck Blore, who liked it and made it pick hit if he could he could have it as an exclusive for a week. I’m not home from the studio from recording this thing, and it was pick hit of the week on one of the biggest stations in the country. That was when the music business was interesting and exciting.”

Bruce says that Randy Wood, ever conscientious, had called Noel Ball to verify the lyric. Subsequently, radio stations ran contests, Pat says, with listeners guessing that kind of knife he was referring to. As for Pat, “It didn’t make any sense to me – I just sang it the way he wrote it.”

Moody River has been used on film soundtracks including ‘The Last Boy Scout.’ And, of all of Pat Boone’s hits that Frank Sinatra might choose to record, Moody River is one that he actually did.

Remember this guy?  Nice, safe, kind, straightforward easy listening. Friendly Persuasion (Thee I Love).  Things like that.  My grandmother liked Pat Boone.  Everybody liked Pat Boone.  I have some of his 50’s stuff on my very own iPod.

>cue crescendo of strings here<

The music industry has a dirty *dark* secret.  This same clean cut fellow who looks like he is the son of a successful real estate developer in his stand-up plaid collar and brycreem regulation hair cut also recorded this album. 

” DO NOT confuse me with that OTHER PAT BOONE who sings about April Love and crap like that.  I am now in a Metal Mood, as evidenced by my Bad Boy Hair and the Photoshop effect in my right eye to vaguely resemble something from a James Bond movie (without the mess and discomfort of some kind of custom contact lens or something.  Eww.).  Also, note that while I am sporting the exact same side part, I HAVE LET MY HAIR GROW A SCARY EXTRA HALF INCH IN LENGTH–plus–my hair is now *slightly tousled* for the effect of badness, and Metal Moodiness.  Did you note my clip-on earring and gold necklace?  Debbie loaned me those.  That’s RIGHT, BITCHES, I am wearing a PLEATHER VEST *without* a pressed DRESS SHIRT and TIE and crisp white UNDERSHIRT.  I’m STANKY PAT with a SPRAY-ON TAN and I’m working my FIERCE FACE.   My agent said wearin’ this vest COMMANDO would lend some street cred to my own personalized version of ‘Panama’  by Van Halen, and that folks wouldn’t snicker so much when I really open the valves on ‘Stairway to Heaven’.  So make way for MR. IN-YOUR-FACE, kids.  MR. I-AM-NOT-KIDDING.   MR. BAD TO THE BONE.”

Then his agent had to explain to him what “street cred” meant while Pat nervously combed his hair back into place.

The fiscal conservatives and Republicans and those on the right who call themselves the Values Voters – each alone or in various combinations – quickly realized this new president would pose a problem. President Obama seems to have an unusual way to deal with his critics – tell me your ideas and why you hold them and what you propose and what results you envision, as I’m sure you have the best of intentions. He gives them all that rope, and of course they hang themselves. Then he explains his ideas, and why he holds them, with stunning clarity. They hadn’t thought things out. He had. He doesn’t call them fools. He doesn’t say they’re wrong. They handle that on their own, and being shown respect flummoxes them. What can you do with that? They call him a socialist or a terrorist or a racist in his own way, or a Muslim or fascist – it’s hard to keep it all straight. And he doesn’t fight back with names for them. He just won’t play.

That hardly seems fair, and of course his explicit and implicit respect for them takes superb confidence on his part, and knowing your stuff. Thus Obama presents a challenge. Political warfare can be asymmetrical too.

But at least he’s black, and you can work with that. Eric Kleefeld at Talking Points Memo explores how that is going:

An interesting pattern has emerged in the last few weeks, as President Obama’s ratings have started to come down to Earth: You can really see a type of Obama-hatred out there that really does cross over into a purely racial territory.

This has gotten especially worse in the aftermath of Obama’s comments and subsequent mea culpa on the Henry Louis Gates arrest, but the pattern has been there all the same. You can look back to the 2008 campaign, with the Jeremiah Wright controversies, the phony rumors of a tape of Michelle Obama defaming whites, and the slow but steady emergence of the Birthers. And these days, the Birthers seem to be getting more and more bellicose.

Of course he notes Rush Limbaugh – and hot just Limbaugh playing the “Barack, The Magic Negro” song over and over and giggling. The Gates arrest that Obama said was stupid set Limbaugh off – “Here you have a black president trying to destroy a white policeman.” Yes, just as his Supreme Court nominee tried to destroy that white firefighter from New Haven. He’s out to get whitey. And of course Obama is also out to destroy capitalism – “I had a dream that I was a slave building a sphinx in a desert that looked like Obama.” And of course Obama is not even good at being black – food-safety advocates will go after all the unhealthy foods people like to eat, one by one, “but they’ll have to wait until Obama is out of office to ban Oreos.”

What, you expected a discussion of policy?

And on Fox News there was Glenn Beck – “This president, I think, has exposed himself as a guy, over and over and over again, who has a deep-seated hatred for white people, or the white culture. I don’t what it is. You can’t sit in a pew with Jeremiah Wright for twenty years and not hear some of that stuff, and not have it wash over.”

And Kleefeld also notes that CNN’s Lou Dobbs, on his radio show (not associated with CNN) that that Obama could be an illegal immigrant – and illegal immigrants are Dobb’s obsession, which led to this – “I’m starting to think we have a document issue. You suppose he’s un- – no, I won’t even use the word ‘undocumented’ – it wouldn’t be right.” Then Dobbs laughed. That was before Obama’s comment on the Gates arrest – associating Obama with some dirty Mexican gang member who snuck into our country and kills people for the fun of it was the order of the day, then.

Elsewhere, Kleefeld discusses the high-profile conservative activist against Obama on healthcare, the guy who was circulating that email with the trick photograph – Obama’s face onto a witch-doctor’s body. And that too was before the Gates incident. Wheels were turning.

On the Glenn Beck matter, at Politico, Michael Calderone has more:

Following up on Beck’s ridiculous claim, Fox’s Brian Kilmeade pointed out that Obama is surrounded by white advisers like David Axelrod, Robert Gibbs and Rahm Emanuel.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t like white people,” Beck said. “I’m saying he has a problem. He has a – this guy is, I believe, a racist.”

This gets confusing, but everything is being reduced to race. Limbaugh called Louis Gates “an angry racist” on the air. Everyone is out to bring down the white man, especially these black guys.

Or maybe Obama is more of a Muslim. In this video a Republican strategist says “Barack Hussein” was probably born in the United States, really, but he should still play it safe and call himself Barry:

In a debate about birthers on MSNBC this afternoon, Republican strategist Alex Johnson called President Obama “Barack Hussein” and said he should go by Barry.

He quickly corrected himself to say “Barack Obama,” but the hosts, Tamron Hall and Donny Deutsch, called him on it. When he said it wasn’t deliberate, they asked why it had even come to his mind.

“Because I was thinking about his name, and I was thinking he should have stuck with Barry as he had when he was growing up,” Johnson said.

When told that was “repulsive,” he said, “Let’s all have a sense of humor here.”

As a political strategy all this is absurd, but you play the only cards you have. The traditionalists, like Bill Pascoe, are pretty upset:

It’s not amusing anymore.

As one of the GOP operatives whose job it was to defeat Barack Obama in a campaign for federal office (there have only been three GOP campaigns run against him, and I’ve been involved with two of them), I can attest to the fact that nowhere in our opposition research did we find any reason to believe that the man was not a natural born citizen of the United States.

Pascoe offers a lot about Alan Keyes, now leading the charge to establish that Obama was born in Kenya and never was a citizen and thus should be tossed out of office, but when Alan Keyes ran against Obama and got skunked, Keyes “never raised any doubts about Obama’s alleged overseas birth while he was running against Obama for the United States Senate in Illinois in 2004.”

And Pascoe finds that odd:

Oh, Alan Keyes said all sorts of other nutty things while he was the GOP Senate nominee in 2004, the kinds of things that cause campaign operatives to go gray prematurely – “Jesus Christ would not vote for my opponent,” Second Daughter Mary Cheney was a “selfish hedonist,” and other such bon mots – but he never once challenged Obama’s place of birth.

Nor did he suggest Obama had anything to do with the introduction of the Edsel, nor the marketing of New Coke; nor the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby, nor the disappearance of Amelia Earhart; nor did Keyes allege Obama was anywhere near Graceland on the morning of August 16, 1977, nor did he suggest Obama had anything to do with the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa.

But now Obama is THE OTHER. Keyes may be black, but at least he is American. With this president being popular, and his policies generally popular, and with him being maddeningly reasonable and unfairly respectful, you do need something to attack.

Pascoe suggests this is not it:

I believe the time has come for reasonable and responsible conservatives to deal with the Birther Problem.

In January 1962, conservative leaders faced a similar problem – how to deal with the members of the John Birch Society, whose leader, George Welch, believed that the former President of the United States, Dwight D. Eisenhower, was a conscious agent of the International Communist Conspiracy.

National Review Founder William F. Buckley, Jr., Arizona Sen. Barry Goldwater, conservative historian and philosopher Russell Kirk, and American Enterprise Institute President William Baroody took it upon themselves secretly to meet at The Breakers hotel in Palm Beach, where they decided Welch and the Birchers would have to be excommunicated from the Conservative Movement, lest their lunacy taint reasonable and responsible conservative political activity.

Were Buckley alive today, is there any doubt he would have the same response to the Birthers? I think not.

Hell, even right of right of right Michelle Malkin was fed up as early as December 2008 – “I believe Trig was born to Sarah Palin. I believe Barack Obama was born in Hawaii on U.S. soil. I believe fire can melt steel and that bin Laden’s jihadi crew – not Bush and Cheney – perpetrated mass murder on 9/11. What kind of kooky conspiracist does that make me?”

But it’s been a race to the bottom, with Fox News leading the way. They grabbed Glenn Beck from CNN and made him the centerpiece of all this, their new star. But even media folks are appalled:

I’ve worked in and around the media business since I graduated from college twenty-five years ago. During the span of my entire career it’s been hard not to maintain a certain affection for Rupert Murdoch: not only does he have that charming accent, he’s always done it his way, taken big gambles (bringing the NFL to Fox…exciting stuff), and has usually won. When you compare Rupert to, say, cranky Sumner Redstone over at Viacom, it’s all Rupert.

Even as a lifelong Democrat, it’s been easy enough to write Fox News off as ridiculous, but I had to concede that it was a brilliant business undertaking (quite formulaic, but filling a niche) that beat the pants of CNN for good reason. Fox News drives me nuts, of course, but it’s been hard not to “chalk another one up for Rupert.”

But there will be no more of that:

For me, the story changed this morning when one of Rupert’s employees, Glenn Beck, appeared on Fox & Friends and called Obama “a racist” and a man who “hates white people.”

This is not Kanye West saying Bush doesn’t care about white people, or Michael Moore saying something provocative while a guest on CNN (though I challenge anyone to find Moore saying anything this ugly on anyone’s program). This is Rupert’s prized employee appearing on his channel, and doing the equivalent of shouting “fire” in a crowded movie house. This is the sort of comment that I might expect to read about in some SPLC missive concerning neo-Nazi websites, or the like. But as uttered by the paid employee of Fox News, on one of the network’s shows?

So no more of thinking Rupert as a charmer:

I’ve just read some Fox spokesperson defending Beck’s right to speak his views on the network as a commentator. Sorry…that’s bullshit, and it doesn’t work. Murdoch has an obligation to edit content just as does the editor of an op-ed page in a newspaper. It’s not “anything goes” on the op-ed page of the Times, and it can’t be “anything goes” from the mouth of Glenn Beck.

In the end, this is all too dangerous:

We already know that Obama is under intense security, and for Murdoch to enable a know-nothing loudmouth like Glenn Beck to stir the pot (I can see the nut jobs at home tonight, redoubling their commitment to take out the President because Glenn Beck today confirmed what they were thinking) is remarkably irresponsible and, frankly, worthy of a response. I’m done with Murdoch, and his channels, newspapers, movies, etc. – and I hope many others feel that way as well. Enough is enough.

Well, something can be put to rest, as on Tuesday, July 28, there was this:

In an attempt to quash persistent rumors that President Obama was not born in Honolulu on Aug. 4, 1961, Hawaii’s health director reiterated this afternoon that she has personally seen Obama’s birth certificate in the Health Department’s archives.

They can do that again and again, but will it convince Pat Boone? Even the arch conservative James Taranto, at the Wall Street Journal, wonders about that as he reviews the House of Representatives voting 378-0 on a nonbinding resolution with these words – “The 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama, was born in Hawaii.”

You may think that settles the matter, but Taranto has some advice – “Don’t hold your breath. Conspiracy theories are by nature un-falsifiable, since all evidence against them is recast as evidence of the conspiracy’s breadth and effectiveness.”

And he wonders if this is just racism. That’s possible, but he offers this – “It would not surprise us if there does turn out to be a racist strain among the Birther fringe. After all, Birthers are lunatics and racists are lunatics. It does not follow, however, that all lunatics are racists.”

Does it matter? Obama really does seem to be maddeningly reasonable and unfairly respectful. You have to have some response to that.

But even the editors at National Review Online now say this racial and outsider stuff just isn’t a workable response:

President Obama was born on August 4, 1961, at 7:24 p.m, in Honolulu County, Hawaii, on the island of Oahu. The serial number on his birth certificate is 010641. Baby Barack’s birth was not heralded, as some of his partisans have suggested, by a star in the east, but it was heralded by the Honolulu Star, as well as the Honolulu Advertiser, each of which published birth announcements for young Mr. Obama. …

Much foolishness has become attached to the question of President Obama’s place of birth, and a few misguided souls among the Right have indulged it. The myth that Barack Obama is ineligible to be president represents the hunt for a magic bullet that will make all the unpleasant complications of his election and presidency disappear. We are used to seeing conspiracy theories from the Left, for instance among the one in three Democrats who believe that 9/11 was an inside job conducted with the foreknowledge of the Bush administration.

You see the argument. We’re better than this. Those other guys are the conspiracy nuts. We don’t want to go there. We’d be like the crazy Democrats. So here is what we’d like everyone to say, in unison now:

The director of Hawaii’s health department and the registrar of records each have personally verified that the information on Obama’s birth certificate is identical to that in the state’s records, the so-called vault copy. Given that fact, we are loath even to engage the fanciful notion that President Obama was born elsewhere, contrary to the information on his birth certificate, but we note for the record that his mother was a native of Kansas, whose residents have been citizens of the United States for a very long time, and whose children are citizens of the United States as well.

Case closed, but for this:

Barack Obama may prefer European-style socialized health care. He may consider himself a citizen of the Earth and sometimes address his audiences as “people of the world,” as though he were born not in another country but on another planet. Like Bruce Springsteen, he has a lot of bad political ideas; but he was born in the U.S.A.

Steve Hynd sees that for what it is:

Thus setting up the post-Birther narrative: “Barack Obama was born in America, but he might as well not have been.”

That’s progress. And of course he’s still a racist who hates white men, just a home-grown one. But at least the National Review editors give a nod to policy issues.

But that is the problem. Obama is not playing fair. He’s saying he’s curious – where do you stand on those issues, and why, and what do expect would happen if we did what you propose, should you ever propose something? But like the unprepared kid at school asked the hard question, you only look foolish with the instinctive reply – I don’t know, I don’t know, but you’re a socialist and your mother dresses you funny!

That sort of thing sunk Hillary Clinton, then John McCain – and Sarah Palin and Joe the Plumber – and now it’s sinking the Republicans. People now expect you to explain yourself, what you propose, and answer all questions. The other guy does that. And you? It seems the rules have changed.

So we now have this race to the bottom on one side, while most everyone but a very angry few just watches, kind of amazed, like you’d watch a train wreck. Obama said he’d change things in Washington. The folks on the right just didn’t expect this, but then real change is like that. And you have to figure out the new rules before you can even think of playing now. Well, we’ll wait while you work on that, but we won’t take you seriously until you do. And have fun down there on the bottom.

 The rock and roll machine hums on, not dead as critics say, just resting. Those who have honestly assessed the situation have noted that the humming is actually coming from the life-support machine, not from rock and roll itself. Unfortunately for the supposed heirs to the rock throne, rock and roll’s will has not been updated since 1964.

Exhibit A in a civil suit filed by the Ramones, citing "immeasurable damage to our reputation"

Goo Goo Dolls
Cute as a bug’s ear and twice as disposable, the Goo Goo Dolls have spent the last decade or so studying at the Jon Bon Jovi School for the Bland. Like their namesake, they should probably be discarded, like any other toy, by the age of consent, at the latest.

For U.S. citizens, this would be the age that allows you to begin throwing your vote away and catching bullets in the armed forces. Other countries, not so much. In Islamic countries, your age of consent may be as low as nine, so be prepared to toss your shitty music and dated morals out the window along with most of your human rights.

It probably helps ease the virgin-crunch in Islam heaven, what with all the arbitrary shuffling of the preferred age of consent. Jihad!

This was third on Google's Image search, so I'm going to assume it's correct...

The Band
An ambiguously-named collective whose claims to fame include being Freewheelin Bob Dylan’s touring group and the bane of marquee signing everywhere. Anchored by Robbie Robertson and Levon Helm, The Band became the ne plus ultra of everything music and band-related.

This talented group became everything anyone could hope for in a The Band, covering musical ground as disparate as country, roots rock, garage, disco, big the band, ragtime, post-rock, folk, jam the band and some of that old time rock and roll, as espoused by Bob “Pete” Seger and his Coors Light Silver Bullet The Band.

Most likely best known for their hit single, We’re An American The Band, for all I know. For more information on The Band, consult your World Book Encyclopedia (see also: Band).

In the twilight of their careers, the Birthday Party begin an ill-advised foray into disco

The Birthday Party
Of all the ironically-named post-punk groups, the Birthday Party is perhaps the most ironic and definitely the postest. (Until the next edition of the Fancy Plans Guide to Rock and Roll, at which time we will probably delight in some rich, promiscuous irony, as per the FDA’s recommended daily requirement.)

If your average birthday party wasn’t so much about pointy hats and crappy streamers, but rather laden with psycho-sexual undertones and bleak nihilism, then this was your Birthday Party. If Nick Cave stood up at your party and offered a toast which highlighted your father’s murderous past, your mother’s years as a junkie and your own pointless and doomed upbringing, then this was not just a birthday party but The Birthday Party. If your presents included a revolver, a bible and a whiskey bottle, then congratulations! Happy the Birthday to you!

Time to start living each day like it’s your last. Because it probably is.

During the middle eighth, the harp plays itself

Clannad
To this day, the best-selling Irish artists of all-time (take that, Thin Lizzy!), Clannad is a loose confederation of wood elves, faeries, nymphs and anti-social binge drinkers. They perform traditional Irish and Celtic music meaning only pub-related instruments are used, and the singing, which resembles drunken rambling, is actually Gaelic, the native tongue of various wood sprites.

Should you have a chance to catch this group of Irish poets performing sober, you’re probably lying.

Come on, God. Take him now.

Creed
Following the footsteps of Stryper in an attempt to sell God-rock to the kids, Creed is led by Scott Stapp’s energetic bellowing and embodiment of Christian ideals: drunken misbehavior, fleecing Christian youth, crossover success and incredibly shitty rock.

Creed’s undemanding grunge has earned them millions of undemanding fans and the attention of Jesus Christ’s lawyers due to Stapp’s blatant appropriation of the patented “Jesus Christ Pose.” J.C.’s lawyers argue that this pose was trademarked over 2000 years ago through an arduous registration process which included being tortured and killed by Romans.

Scott Stapp has fired back with a tersely worded, “Whatever. I do what I want.”
The lawyers have replied with “Remember. He brought you into this world and He can surely take thee right back out.”
To which millions of people responded, “Yes! Please do! Send a killer robot back in time to kill his mother if you have to!”

The Jesus Lizard can be safely raised in captivity and lives on a diet of Spree Candy Tarts and ignorance

The Jesus Lizard
Named after the absolutely true story of Jesus and His bible friends’ mounting and taming of free-range dinosaurs during the Earth’s formative years (before they were all mysteriously “disappeared” and carbon-loaded solely to confuse scientists), the Jesus Lizard wax theologic on potent noise-rock tracks such as, My Own Urine, Tight and Shiny, Rodeo in Juliet, Dancing Naked Ladies, Killer McHann, Post Coital Glow, Skull of a German, Pervertedly Slow and Wheelchair Epidemic.

Anka subdues yet another Pat Boone fan with his icy stare; imposing pompadour

Paul Anka
Too easily written off as just another 50’s teenybopper, Paul Anka was more than just a miniature Italian heartthrob. He gave Tom Jones a hit with She’s a Lady and wrote My Way for the then-unknown Sex Pistols.

A legion of snot-nosed bloggers have taken cheap shots at Anka, myself included. This particular besmirching occurred in a comment where I insinuated that Anka was too “edgy” for Pat Boone fans. In reality, many things are too “edgy” for Pat Boone fans, including:

• coloring outside the lines
• “California stops”
• several of the “darker” After School Specials
• new release parties that begin at midnight
• widescreen format DVDs
• Axe bodyspray ads
• the Disney Channel after 7 pm

The Japanese know shit music when they see it

Eric Clapton
⁶And the Lord said You shall have no other gods before me
⁷And a voice came from the back of the gathering, questioning these words
⁸Moses. God. Eric here. Hi. Longtime fan, first-time caller. Lots of people have been referring to me as God and I really haven’t been stopping them. Is this a problem?
⁹God said Let me take this one, Moses.
¹⁰If you’ll take a look further down this list… where is it… here:
¹¹You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name.
¹²I think that should answer your question, Eric. That actually covers more than one area, but I’m not going to get into that now. Back to you, Moses.
¹³Moses said, Eric, they’re calling you God? How is that possible? What are they calling Jimi? Seriously. He’s twice the guitarist and four times as well-hung. God? GTFO!
¹⁴Eric, abashed, said I have been known to play the guitar in a pleasing fashion and to be quite skilled for an Englishman. Why, I have even been known to—
¹⁵I’m going to cut you off there, Eric. Moses is right. Your best known song is about adultery, for the love of Me. And then you went ahead and watered it down with that terrible acoustic version, which is only suitable for coffehouse background music and shareholder’s meetings.
¹⁶Not to pile on, Eric, but while God has got you nailed on Layla, let’s not forget Tears in Heaven, another stillborn waste of time—
¹⁷Look, I’m classically trained and I have got quite the body of work. I have performed for the Queen and Richard Branson. Have either of you composed a hit song in the last 30 years? I think not. You just think you can sit up there on your mountain and take cheap shots—
¹⁸Cheap shots? Are you hearing this, Moses? From a guy who thinks it’s ok to be called God. I though Scott Stapp was bad, but this guy…
¹⁹I hear you, God. Well, time to pay some bills. We’ll be back with more commandments after this quick break for the good people at the Burning Bush Gentleman’s Club…

-CLT

PAT BOONE

Pat Boone was a pop singer in the 1950’s. Currently, he writes a column for the conservative website Newsmax.com. In his current piece, Boone comes out of the closet. Not that closet. Boone reveals he’s a member of the “birther” movement-those who believe somehow that President Barack Obama was not born in the U.S.

Boone demands Obama produce his birth certificate. (Which, of course, he already has.) Boone’s column is dangerous in that it now drags the AARP set into the ridiculous birther “debate.” He is also still very actice in Christian television. Sure, you and I may not give a damn about what some loser septuagenerian thinks about Barack Obama’s birth certificate, but, believe it or not, Pat Boone does have a following. Boone has sold 45 million records. He’s had 38 Top 40 hits (including six number one singles.) He currently ranks #9 on the all-time Billboard charts, right behind the Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney. Elvis once opened FOR HIM.

Obviously, SOMEBODY bought all those albums. Sure, a lot of those people are now dead, but Boone was such a cultural icon that he starred in over a dozen movies and made the cover of the Super Man comic book.

Boone also appeared on the cover of Time magazine, had a #1 best-selling book, was the star of a prime time network television show and served as the national spokesman for Chevrolet. You know, back when they were actually a SUCCESSFUL car company. Boone even got publicity in the late ’90s when he made a heavy metal album.

In addition to his Newsmax column, Boone has attempted to interject himself in politics by also writing for Worldnetdaily.com and making anti-gay phone calls for political candidates.

PAT BOONE

Pat Boone has given us yet another compelling reason to oppose gay marriage: Webster’s Dictionary!

I noticed this powerful use of logic by Pat Boone today in a World Net Daily editorial that he penned (or, at least, word processed):

Not just the Bible, but Webster’s Dictionary, defines this covenantal relationship called “marriage” as a commitment between one man and one woman.

Wow. Not just the Bible, but the dictionary, is on the side of heterosexual sanity here. And not just any old dictionary, but Webster’s Dictionary. The anti-gay rights side now has not just one book to publicly appeal to, but two: the Bible and the dictionary! 

And if Webster’s Dictionary says it, obviously we must not ever do anything contrary to it because, well, when Pat Boone was a kid he used Webster’s Dictionary to do his homework, and that was back at a time when America was still America, and words meant something.

In other words, gay marriage will ruin not just marriage and America, but the English language!

And gay marriage will also promote the evolution of words, and evolution (as we all know) is bad. If words start evolving, there’s no telling where such a process might stop. We might, for instance, start changing the meanings of other words, like calling, say, ”torture” enhanced interrogation.

Oh, wait. That was a bad example. But you get my point.

And by the way, Pat Boone, in the same essay, called gay activists in California sexual jihadists, saying “there is a real, unbroken line between the jihadist savagery in Mumbai and the hedonistic, irresponsible, blindly selfish goals and tactics of our homegrown sexual jihadists.”

I don’t think sexual jihadist is in Webster’s Dictionary. Pat is making up new and inflammatory phrases now. I wish he’d cut that out. He might be inadvertently adding a new phrase to our language if he’s not careful.

Ah, sunflower! What turned you, in your old age, into a cranky Fox News naysayer to those who have suffered a long and unjust history of bigotry, discrimination, and even violent persecution? But I have to admit, you sure could sing when you were young. I’ll certainly give you that. One might even say that you were beautiful. Is that okay to say that you were beautiful?

Here’s Pat doing a duet with Roy Rogers. And what an outfit Roy’s got on! Can we say Village People? Or is there something wrong with looking or being gay?

Note: All right, so I’m back. I took a week off to take care of some personal stuff and work on my other writing projects and in doing so I realized something: I can’t do this blog every weekday in the way that I was and still have time to pursue other goals. Now, don’t worry, there will still be daily content on here every Monday through Friday. It’ll just be a little different. Since the “Standpoint” section seems to be the one you all like the most, I’m separating it from each daily post. It will appear by itself and only three days a week. It was getting a little difficult to write five “Standpoints” per week and maintain the quality. This way, I’ll be able to write about more of the issues you really want to read about. Stay tuned and thanks for reading.

Word: pithy [pith-ee] adj. 1. brief, forceful, and meaningful in expression; full of vigor, substance, or meaning; terse; forcible: a pithy observation 2. of, like, or abounding in pith

Birthday: Jacques Marquette (1637), Brigham Young (1801), William S. Knowles (1917), Nelson Riddle (1921), Andy Griffith (1926), Marilyn Monroe (1926), Charles Wilson (1933), Pat Boone (1934), Morgan Freeman (1937), René Auberjonois (1940), Ronnie Wood (1947), David Berkowitz (1953), Teri Polo (1969), Alexi Lalas (1970), Heidi Klum (1973), Alanis Morissette (1974), Brandi Carlile (1980)

Quotation: Live your life so when the times comes for the funeral the preacher won’t have to bullshit the peoples. - Babatunde Olatunji

Tune: I watched Zack and Miri Make a Porno last weekend. (It was better than people told me it’d be.) Anyway, during the scene where Seth Rogen and Elizabeth Banks first…ahem…actively participate in relations with one another, a song came on that was unmistakably by the band Live. After 1994’s Throwing Copper, I stopped listening to Live. (Except “Simple Creed.” I love that song.) They stopped making good music. Turns out that the song in the movie was “Hold Me Up,” a b-side from the Throwing Copper album. I liked the song a lot. And I’m OK with that because, even though I’d never heard it before, it was from an era when I thought Live was still kind of worthwhile. Plus, a good song is a good song no matter who’s performing it. All right, that’s not true. I don’t really believe that. Still, good stuff. I don’t think Live released the song anywhere. It’s not on the Zack and Miri Make a Porno soundtrack. But, as I’m known to, I was able to find a site where you can download ”Hold Me Up” for free.

Gallimaufry: Despite disliking the movie Titanic on an almost undescribable level, I’ve always been kind of fascinated by the real-life story. Sadly, the last survivor of the tragedy, Millvina Deans, died yesterday. Dean was only 2 months old when the Titanic sank. ∞ Tone-Lôc, the rapper behind such megahit classics like “Funky Cold Medina,” “Wild Thing,” and, well, I guess just those two, collapsed during a concert in Florida on Friday. He reportedly suffered a seizure due to “flight delays and heat.” He’s expected to make a full recovery.  ∞ Lastly, I’m pleased to announce that the Detroit Red Wings are up 2-0 on the Pittsburgh Penguins in the Stanley Cup Finals. As usual, Pittsburgh captain Sidney Crosby is proving to everyone what a douchebag he can be. Crosby aside, the Red Wings deserve the Cup again. Simply the better team.  

Incoming: Tomorrow – I’ll discuss the 2009 MTV Movie Awards.