Piano Manatee Ball Championship

Fuck You, Billy Joel

Last time you were in the kind of bar you

sing about, it was still classy, and fun,

and you were there with your wife

and the drinks were free
and don’t try to tell me about lonely,

I will invent it for you
brand new and bloody

right before I break your fucking fingers.

A Common Blindspot

Alright. So recent conversations (online and in person) have made it necessary to say the following: If you are a person of faith, raised in faith or even just searching, and you are involved in any -- any-- artistic pursuit, you spend your life either directly or indirectly dealing with hostility, mockery, or dismissal, often from people you otherwise largely agree with.
And you know what? A lot of the time it's fine, you can deal, some of the stuff that's said is legit funny, mainly accurate, or at least understandable.
If you're a person of faith in artistic circles, chances are you've dealt with your share of lumps from churches/etc. But running into it, seeing it on feeds, etc day in, day out takes a toll. I'm not talking about debate around specific issues, I'm talking about the lumpen trolling that isn't/wouldn't be tolerated around any other group of people-- the fat dumb idiots sorts of jokes/sayings-- that you just get used to. But every now and then, you have to say something. Forgive, sure. Forget, probably, there's too much not to. But that doesn't mean we won't every now and then call you out on it, and its a good idea to listen.

I posted this a few days ago to my facebook after an online kerfuffle that was ultimately resolved with a phone call. I promised a blog post unpacking that a bit more.

I'm going to start with a few caveats; there may be more in footnote form(the footnotes are denoted by asterisks, which reset after each five. because.) But here's what this post is not intending to do: 
1) This is not intended to portray myself or any other person of faith (any faith, though folks who deal with what I'm about to outline tend to come from more structured, "organized religions") as some sort of oppressed minority. This is not a post to elicit sympathy or to call people out, but rather to talk frankly about a recurring experience that is shared, rarely gets mentioned, and maybe help people understand what's ultimately problematic about it. Because if I don't say anything, I can't expect you to know.
2) This is not going to be a post comprehensively outlining my own beliefs, background, or experiences of belief. That information may be included for context, but it's not my intended focus.
3) This is not a piece about interactions of people of faith/spirituality with the non-spiritual in the world at large, or in the greater swath of american culture. That's a very different picture. What I'm dealing with in this post are the specifically artistic -- music, writing, visual art, dance, theater, etc. -- and many academic worlds, often (but not exclusively) within the context of large, left-leaning cities (Seattle, in my case) or fairly insular college towns.
4) This is not a "how to not offend your Christian/Mormon/Ex-Jehovah's Witness friend" post, though in the interest of being constructive, I may include one or two tips.
5) This post (and the author) has no interest in a compare/contrast around different types of belief, or being some sort of rebuttal to new atheism, or converting people, or decrying evils that have been done in various religions' names. There's a whole internet out there for that. 
6) This is not an apologetic piece.

Get through all that? Okay. Let's go!

This was triggered by a couple of specific online conversations* in which most of the participants were writing fairly offhanded comments about "religious people" that ranged from slightly insensitive to broadly cruel. The general sentiment (which a few were quick to prop up with studies) was that "religious people are stupid, ignorant, racist, fat, ugly, smelly, non-couch-leaving, sexist homophobes who don't know how to tie their own shoes."**

This is the sort of thing I hear, or read, or catch offhand in comments weekly, if not daily. At work, with my friends, on any number of sites I read, in the standup comedy of artists I enjoy, in the stage banter of bands I enjoy, in social media, in offhanded comments nestled into columns I otherwise largely agree with, everywhere.
My response used to be a very earnest: NO! We're not all like that! Let me tell you about ______ and their work on behalf of marriage equality! Let me explain to you what I specifically believe regarding ____ part of theology that you don't like, a lot of us are very nice, really!

And that's a conversation I'm still happy to have in person, if I really fucking have to, but I shouldn't have to, especially to people who know me. You should know I'm not That Guy, and you probably have a friend or several who also aren't that person, so how many exceptions does it take to rethink whether it's such a strong rule?

Another thing I find telling, discouraging, and disappointing is how the strawman of the "religious conservative"*** also tends to serve as a cipher for other prejudices. Sizeism, classism (SO MUCH CLASSISM), sexism, and racism all frequently find their way into "critiques" of religion, both by the classically liberal/progressive types and the more misanthropic followers of dawkins/hitchens/carlin.

"Yeah, but a lot/so many of you/them are that way that I'm not going to change my language because I hurt some church kid's feelings." I've heard and seen variations on this cry-me-a-river response a few times. Mainly when I was younger. Late 20s-early 30s I get a lot less of this, but it's still a sentiment that persists.

To it I would say two things: Take that statement and apply it to another group of people. Go on.  What does it give you? Secondly, even if this is your take, consider the following: In painting The Religious in such strokes, you help perpetuate the sort of ignorance you claim to be against. For every strawman, there is an equal strawman on the opposite side; it makes it easier for folks on that side to prop themselves up as persecuted, to perpetuate equally lazy stereotypes about Artists and City Liberals as baby-eating, wine-drinking, drug-taking, shallow hedonistic elitists**** who don't love their families and have no time for those less moneyed, hedonist, or educated than them.

Okay. Now, briefly, on to the much rarer, darker, more violent hyperbole I've seen throughout the years. Once again, not feeling like I should have to explain why a bumper sticker like "So Many Christians, So Few Lions"***** or friends in college saying "they* should all be rounded up and shot" is so fucked up, but here goes: there are parts of the world where that has occurred recently, and still occurs. More the shooting than the lions, but let's not limit people's creativity, hrmmm?
Beyond that it once agains mirrors the violence of language of the most dogmatic and cruel iterations of organized religions, and chances are you have at least one friend who is in this country specifically because their parents, grandparents, or great grandparents fled here specifically to escape being rounded up and shot.

Alright. Let's get less heavy now, and talk about some greyer areas.
First, as I alluded to earlier, if you are a person of faith who also arts, you've probably taken some lumps from the organized institutions. Sometimes the people making these generalizations are coming from a place of deep pain or trauma, and a good, uncensored vent is part of a healing process. If you weren't religious (or operated in a spiritual practice considered "fringe" by mainstream america) and grew up in a church-controlled town, county, or school, it's likely you had a rough go of it, and that knee-jerk urge is really understandable.
Conversely, if you grew up in an atheist household in a big city and had one, maybe two religious friends all growing up (if any) the whole concept can seem like an anachronism, one that's hard to take seriously. In this case, I suggest trying to relate to people of faith as a foreign culture; there's a lot you'll see on the news that is either outright misrepresentative or represents the most extreme/dogmatic examples.

That said, as many teachers, pastors, and my longsuffering parents know, I know a thing or two about not taking things seriously, and overvalue a smirk from time to time.

So. I like a joke I can laugh at myself. But let's do some fine-tuning: when you're talking about your personal experience you should/can say whatever you want. If you grew up around really toxic religiousity, it's totally fair to say "everyone in my town/family/school was. . ." But acknowledge that that is your personal experience, rather than a universal one. If someone counters with an example from their life that runs contrary to your experience, that doesn't invalidate your experience. But it might be useful to add to your perception when talking about a group of people as a whole.**
I'm also not angry when it comes to vents of frustration around a single issue, or set of issues where an religiously institutional take has dictated a lot of opinions.

In fact, much of the time even the harshest, most intellectually lazy takes can roll off my back with a quick eyeroll. But as the fact that I've written a sprawling, multi-take blog on this shows
1) I can't do this all the time. Both out of respect for myself, my family, and my friends-- both of faith and simply those who really should know better- I gotta say something.
2) Just because one or two of your friends are really cool with you making jokes that could be seen as at their expense, don't assume all of them who fall into whatever-the-category-in-question-are.

Likewise, to avoid being easily misunderstood, if you have involved, differing definitions between being "spiritual," "of faith," "religious," "a believer," and have a rant/vent or what-have-you, for the LOVE OF GOD*** do not assume people share these definitions. To a lot of people these terms are, if not interchangable, highly overlapping. Parsing the differences between these terms can also lead to really rewarding conversations.

One last thing to consider is the displacement factor: people who have left*** the faith they grew up in often find themselves in communities of their choosing, and surrounded by the sorts of language I've talked about above. Like I've mentioned, sometimes they get in on some of the jokes, sometimes they don't, but when the talk gets monolithic, violent and dismissive, it re-enforces the fact that just like they felt excluded, dismissed and rejected in their old communities, they can't be themselves, or express their full experiences in their new communities.
Just because your lapsed catholic friend is now a _____**** does not mean that they don't love their devout catholic granmother. Or that they don't retain some sort of internal struggle around their beliefs.

So to that end-- when someone you know does say something, listen. Don't interrupt with "well you know what I mean" or "I wasn't talking about. . ." They probably know. But that sort of backtracking serves only to block communication or serve as a very mild form of gaslighting. Your friend probably wanted today to be one day of their life when they didn't have to rationalize/justify away the ignorant and jerky blanket statements you just made about their old friends, family and past selves.

It gets old, you know?

*The specific conversations are beside the point by now, as it could have been one of any number of conversations I've been privy to over the last 18 years. I didn't link because I'm not trying to restart fights, and in fact the resulting conversations from it were good.
**hyperbolically overstating, but not by much.
***who embodies everything that is bad about people and nothing good.
****when frances bean cobain starts her absurdist literature appreciation society, this'll be on the t-shirts.
*****kinda ugh funny, in that quarter-jewish-comedian-who-makes-oven-jokes way.
*In this case we're not just talking about "faith" in general, but christianity, or mormonism, or if you're dealing with new atheists, they may include muslims and practicing jews, but lib/progressive set tends to be a little less monolithic.
** I'm also not angry when it comes to vents of frustration around a single issue, or set of issues where an religiously institutional take has dictated a lot of opinions. See: climate change, marriage equality, The War, reproductive health, welfare, etc.
*** intentional.
****or radically re-imagined, or don't like being associated with, or whatever.
***** fill in whatever you would describe to yourself or others as being "opposite of" catholocism/mormonism/etc. I had a couple, but kept bumping up against wanting to explain why such-and-such "shouldn't" be considered opposite of. . .

We Don't Have Much To Say Except Productivity Has Its Own Soundtrack.

#3 Take Care, Sincerely, All the Best.

Take care when crossing the street not
to be run over by the stampeding hippos
let out by the fired zookeeper in one last
act of vengeance against the shrinking animal budget,
no time for larger cages, only endless
lemur apartments, meerkat holes,
while the elephants and grizzlies
were set afire for a host of incoming
green space.

Take care when dodging the eagles
swooping down, they haven't had fish
for days and you live in Seattle, you'll
always smell a bit like cod, you only
wish it were Salmon, get over yourself.
The real take at city hall was that too
many laughing children offset prime-view
prices, so they beheaded several ostritches
and sold their fried bodies on hoagies
from repossessed trailers.

Take care of your knees and elbows this
summer, as reports have ten orangutans
swinging directly toward you,
rumors are they're infected. Probably just
a cold, you know, the rain, hahaha,
but seriously, save your tarzanning for
the gondola ride, get out the smelling salts
and remember banana-based diversions
only work on chimps.

Take this elbow grease. Keep your most wrinkly
parts smoothed and savvy. Take this muscle relaxant
and helmet for your skate down the hill. Take
a minute to think of your family, and what would
have happened if they'd agreed to meet you
for brunch in the path of charging rhinos. Circumstance
is a speeding warning when you expected
the baton. Take your jelly legs to a bench,
and take the next bus out of here. This place
has become a real shithole since the Zoo burned
down and all the families were eaten
by tigers.

Civic Duty

1. as much as it pains him to say, after a long history of confidence, he does not know who to vote for in the next election. every single speech sounds like a commercial. 2. she knows a lot, has always, knows whom she'll support, supports who she knows, has always known, will always know, is happy to tell you. 3. It doesn't matter much, the peanut butter sandwiches will taste the same as he drips blackberry jelly on his snap-down shirt and wonders why no one takes him seriously. 4. with face scrunched, head shaking, he punches out a ballot, fills in a card, hits the screen. all at once, because no one's sure how this works any more. 5. So now this reporter wants to know will you vote? With hindsight, with hindsight, with hindsight.

Asahi(koreatrip #7)

. . . is the Budweiser of Japan. Accordingly, it tastes way better than Budweiser, but was not worth the 8,500 won I spent on my first drink in two weeks at Incheon International.

I've spent about 60,000 won this trip, but much of it today, as time was running out. Flight boards in 15 minutes; accordingly, I'll post a full(ish) recap, with pictures and links and snark and sincerity, later. But three things about the airport:

*"tasteful" korean porn totally available at the the book/video store. "ero blockbuster" the only words in english.
*there is a Dunkin' Donuts here. There is not one in Seatac.
*of COURSE it is Wi-fi-ed. Of course there is an internet lounge. Of course you can charge your ipod at one of the free ipod charging stations past the security checkpoint.

s2b

in an hour I leave for:


We will arrive there in twelve hours.

I should make sure I've got my toothbrush packed and at least one light pair of socks.

A Heated Conversation About Steampunk

Its like all these people put on their grandpa's peacoats
and have suddenly conjured a culture that doesn't really exist

Likewhat? saywhat? Youyouyouyoudontevenknow!
how can you say tell me the 5,000+ crammed into
top hats and convention centers
don't exist. This is about a past-future that never really was.

just ask the world's major religions.
just ask the north renton ghost society.
just ask the 53 year old woman who went
as slutty hermione for halloween.

(just because it's not pretty
just because it's not your scene--
this is the future we're talking about.

this is culture we're talking about.
this is the future of culture we're talking
about

--where things happen instantly!
all bolts and gears and buildings creaking
to life fired by boys with bangs
shoveling coal into ovens)

just ask the 15 Seattle-area entertainment magazine writers
getting paychecks from inventing and dismantling Zeitgeists.

You can't say that when the hats are so cute.
IT'S TOTALLY SEXY!

ten thousand elvis impersonators, drunk off prohibition cocktails,
dancing in a circle around brand new anachronisms.
Ten thousand others taking notes and shaking heads.
Complete rolling blackouts.

__________________________________________

this month is Nanowrimo. Instead of trying to squeeze in a Novel in my spare time I want to 1) write a new poem a day or 2) edit existing pieces or pieces of pieces. I think I can do this, even while I'm in the UK. The above needs some editing but it doesn't feel like a rehash of other things I've done, so I'm happy about that.

in other news, I'm getting rid of my mattress. wanna know why? last owner had cats. THAT. MIGHT. EXPLAIN. A LOT.

file under "awww, that's so sweet."

"Graham, your friendship is far more important to me than sleeping with racists."-- kat

Give Me Something I Can Take Away-- Year in Music 2 or something

My opinion has always been that you can't quite make a "Best of" list until sometime in June, when you've fully caught up on Year Previous, by which time you are hopelessly "behind" on the next year, because, after all, it is a race. So I probably forgot a couple records in making this list, but it was still fun to make. I didn't include albums by bands I Always Like if I didn't think they were great(sorry Pearl Jam), nor did I include records made by humans I have physically touched in a non-concert setting. Feel free to berate me on my choices.

St. Vincent—The Actor
For me, St. Vincent is like meeting someone at a boring party, deciding she’s nice enough, but pretty much like every other person there and they’re talking about like, wine or something, not that there’s anything wrong with wine, but the hostess, who you really do appreciate the invitation and everything, she’s cute and all and probably the best person out of that douchey study group where you met, but really why did you come to this party anyway? So then, like, later, at some isolated situation that is not a party you meet St. Vincent and she is funny and weird and clever and sort of fucked up in a really interesting way. You do not want to marry her, but hey, she made this sweet album and listening to it is rad.

MF Doom—Born Like This
MF Doom remains a bizarre dude. Not in the “HI MY NAME IS LIL WAYNE/KANYE WEST AND YOU SHOULD LOOK AT ALL THIS CRAZY SHIT I DO I DO SOME CRAZY SHIT BECAUSE I AM AN ARTIST WHO HAS NOTHING TO SAY BUT CRAAAAAZY SHIIIIIIIT” but more in a way that I would give a crap about, ever. The growing collective of People Who Want Graham to Smoke Pot rejoice.

Fever Ray—S/T
Want to come over to my house some frosty winter and have sex with me while we listen to Fever Ray? BDSM/cosplay optional.

The Obits—I Blame You
Someone give Frohberg a check so that he can just keep making good albums like this. Eases up on the Hot Snakes’ breakneckery, throws in some surf, some swing, rockabilly, keeps the guitars clean and crisp, lyrics smart and straight-up. Guy should be teaching classes on this shit, but most “rock and rollers” are too busy worrying about their hair and practicing sneers in the mirror.

Animal Collective—Merriweather Post-Pavillion
I think it’s possible to be highly overrated, have a pretty annoying fanbase and still be really good.

Japandroids—Post Nothing
Go for it boys, you’ve got your youth, earnesty-thinly-hidden-by-swagger and a history of pop-punk, power-pop and shoegaze in your arsenal. If the results are a bit immature sometimes, well, so am I. And that’s fine.

Anti-Pop Consortium—Fluorescent Black
Remember when __indie kids/rockers/hipsters/art kids, whoever___ gave a shit about whether the hip hop they listened to was actually good and not just an excuse to throw a theme party where they could throw on huge glasses and act out racial caricatures in the name of pop-culture parody?

A Place to Bury Strangers—Exploding Head
When you are this loud and ominous you can get away with having the word “heart” in more than one of your song titles.


The Mountain Goats—Life of the World to Come
When I heard that Darnielle was doing an album where each song corresponded to a Bible Verse, I wasn’t surprised; in fact I was almost surprised he hadn’t already. As a songwriter, I think JD is pretty much unmatched, so he’s uniquely suited to a project like this and the results are stunning. The melodies are strong here too, giving a way in to casual-er MG listeners.

Future of the Left—Travels With Myself and Another
. . . but he can’t put his finger on it; he’ll never be that kind of man/He’ll die in his bed on a summer’s night, with his hand on his favorite thing. There are words he could use to describe it/metaphors that should have applied-- he’ll die in his bed on a summer’s night with his hand on his adequate bride.

. . . and half-dead too/work is for suckers and the sucker is you

As of today, I have been employed by the Rhyddings Hotel for one year.
To "celebrate," we will all enjoy a week's worth of observational Rhyddings and Other Customer Service Experience anecdotal blogging. A look back on the life and times of one Graham Isaac as he hands you unhealthy foodstuffs and drinkstuffs for minimal pay with even less dignity.

To start things off:
Queen are not a terrible band, by any stretch. In fact, they seem to be one of the few not-terrible bands that Angie and Tony (landlady and lord, respectively) like. My short-form, pre-Rhyddings feelings on Queen went like this: Like Led Zeppelin before them, they're plenty good in their own right, but they are a bad band for other bands to try to be. And a lot do.

Still:
5 Songs by the Rock Band Queen That, After Working At the Rhyddings Pub, I Can No Longer Even Imagine Enjoying, Even Ironically, Even With My Best Friends On A Summer Day, Ever, Under Any Circumstance

5. A Crazy Little Thing Called Love-- Know who else other bands/artists shouldn't try to be? ELVIS*.
4. We Will Rock You-- Buddayarrastraahngmanyahngmanbuddyyoura-- I feel myself getting stupider every time I hear this song and picture an arena full of hockey/football/basketball fans clapping along, off-time somehow, even though its the easiest song to clap to EV-AR.
3. I Want It All-- I thought this was the Scorpions at first. In a bad way**.
2. Bohemian Rhapsody-- You know what? I've never liked this song. Ever. All my friends liked it because of that scene in Waynes World where they headbang to it in the back of the car. My Chemical Romance re-wrote this song way less shitty in 2006*** and called it Welcome to the Black Parade and we won't have to hear THAT one in 30 years because everyone who deifies MCR will be dead in three years from killing themselves for their Dark Dark Masters.
1. Friends Will Be Friends-- Picture, if you will, this song, which is already the most cliched sort of expression of Friendship ever. Now picture a room full of drunk folks who aren't yours, singing along at top volume. Then they yell at you by name to get them another cider.

and, in a strange about face--

4 Songs By Queen that, Incredibly, I Don't Find That Annoying, Despite Overexposure and Someday May Even Listen to Voluntarily, Though It'll Be A while

4. We Are the Champions-- With the exception of their small, but loyal Theatre Kid Crowd who basically listen to anything you can dress up in stupid costumes to listen to (see also: Decemberists, They Might Be Giants, Dragonforce) most Queen Fans are rabidly homophobic. So the fact that this is a gay-rights anthem makes me happy.
3. Hammer to Fall-- This just sounds like generic Buttrock to me. I thought it was some obscure Guns and Roses song at first. Not bad to pour shitty beer to. I can almost pretend I work in The Office.
2. Another One Bites the Dust-- This is a good song, despite being played at so many sports games and wedding receptions, mainly because it sounds NOTHING like Queen and if you tilt your head and have water in your ears, it almost sounds like early hip hop.
1. Radio Ga Ga-- The chorus goes "All we hear is Radio Ga Ga, Radio Goo Goo". . . by all accounts it should be at the fucking TOP of the last list. But no. Maybe because it forgoes all the Big Rock Guitar shit and tries (fails) almost to be New Wave. But yeah. I actually still actively enjoy this one.

_____________________________________________________________________________
* unless you're the Cramps.
** there isn't really a Good Way, actually.
*** still pretty shitty, really only Less Shitty because its shorter, and I've heard it fewer times, and maybe if really terrible bands keep ripping off Queen people who pretend to be into music will stop trying to make me like them a lot and stop listening to new bands so I can *bask* in Brian May's "awesome" guitar work.

Everyone Has Something

There’s a pterodactyl outside your bedroom window
claws like diamond cutters, eyes red slits.

You outran the sabertooth, left the tyrannosaurus in the
tarpit with a quick dash-and-roll, killed the raptor with your
bare hands but you haven’t been able to shake this one and
now it watches you sleep, head ducked between leather wings.

Close the curtains and hear it breathing, waiting.
The pizza places stopped delivering,
the neighbourhood pets have all disappeared.
Sometimes it leaves the heads of cats on
your doorstep, reminders that someday, it’ll be you.

For now, you bury your face.

In South Dakota a man carries bundles of firewood
through the snow, he’s got holes in his boots and his
wife no longer loves him. She stays because he’s the
only thing between her and the wolverine on the roof.

He’s not afraid of wolverines; he’s got an axe for that,
but he never leaves his bed ‘til sunrise; otherwise the wood
will splinter away, leave him pitching through an
endless stretch of dark.

You are certain of your floors and ceilings,
none of your doorknobs have ever come off in your hand.
You know you’re safe in alleys, don’t
worry about taxes, trolls or terrorists.

But the fear always hits you in the
back of the knees when you get home and
that’s how you know you’re home.
Because It’s out there,
raising black wings, eyes of red,

waiting.
________________________________________________________________________

this is an old one I found when I was ruffling through my papers. Jake might remember it but I only read it once anyway. Gave it a few edits. I like when I write this sort of thing and it feels like it actually is something. Probably bring it out at a couple of upcoming features. May consider it for the chapbook submission.

Neglect

Algaed water clings to the side of the
fishbowl, empty save for the plastic
castle, covered in wet grime.

The terrarium nearby holds the flaking
skin of a newly dead python, lying in
bits of tail and hair from the mice it'd
been fed.

scratchmarks from tiny claws on the side
of the glass.

on the desk lies a short shopping list,
dated two weeks back. fish food, water
purifyer, tropical heatlamp.

but the light burnt out and coldbloodedness
took over.