Monday, June 25, 2018

Sorry, forgot to mention a happy thing...

Watching my Germany in Saturday's World Cup competition... I was mildly depressed throughout until 90+ minutes, and then... Toni Kroooooooooooooooooooooooos! :)



BONEY M. "Rasputin" [Album Version]


Probably best not to mess with the occult (only because it's tricky)

I've been re-reading "Nicholas and Alexandra" by Robert K. Massie for the first time since my teens. The first time, I wallowed in the seemingly inevitable horror of it. This time, I'm paying a bit more attention to the details --- still trying to figure out "what went wrong," of course, but trying to be a bit more realistic about it... (Yes, I understand the Marxist fervor sweeping both Europe and Russia. And, yes, Nicholas II was a relatively weak ruler --- whose rule also saw several mass shootings of protesters in an attempt to rein them in, which created antipathy among the people.)

The mystic Rasputin entered the Royal Family's life in 1905, during an especially life-threatening hemophiliac episode of their son Alexis. Formerly a hanger-on, Rasputin was invited in to pray over Alexis; when he did, the heir's pain miraculously subsided. From that point on, Rasputin was a welcome companion in the royal household.

Which was fine until the war. Nicholas went to the front to oversee the troops, and wife Alexandra was left at home with Rasputin in her ear. (Please, no jokes about "and other places.")

After Nicholas was away, author Massie documents letter after letter from Alexandra to her husband saying "our Friend [Rasputin]" thinks this, he thinks that. About various ministers of the country, about actual war policy. Most of the time, Nicholas acceded to his wife's wishes.

Insane. But the precedent: Rasputin actually HAD, on numerous occasions, alleviated the pain of Alexis simply by praying over him, a feat that no doctor had been able to accomplish.

Rasputin had also previously accurately predicted the deaths of several associates of the Tsar. Rasputin also predicted his own death, and the end of the Romanov dynasty, in a late-1916 letter: If he were killed by peasants, the Tsar and his family would survive; if killed by a member of the Romanov family, however, the dynasty would not only fall, but all would die within 6 months.

What was Nicholas to do? The sane members of the Russian government despised Rasputin and the hold he seemed to have over the Empress while Nicholas was away at the front. Every rational person wanted Rasputin gone. (A drunken, transvestite party-boy relative of the Tsar, Felix Yusupov, killed Rasputin on New Year's Eve, 2016.)

On the one hand, Rasputin helped the Tsar's son and was eerily accurate in many predictions. On the other hand, Rasputin was not helpful at all in determining who should be ministers of the Russian government (decisions, backed by the Empress, based primarily on who personally liked and respected him, Rasputin).

Probably Nicholas should have been a hard-core stern ruler/Man and utterly ignored his wife and her "feelings" and her "Friend."



  




Friday, June 22, 2018

"What? What?"

From Wikipedia:

Around midnight 17 July 1918, Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of The House of Special Purpose, ordered the Romanovs' physician, Dr. Eugene Botkin, to awaken the sleeping family and ask them to put on their clothes, under the pretext that the family would be moved to a safe location due to impending chaos in Yekaterinburg.[90] The Romanovs were then ordered into a 6 m × 5 m (20 ft × 16 ft) semi-basement room. Nicholas asked if Yurovsky could bring two chairs, on which Tsarevich Alexei and Alexandra sat.[91] Yurovsky's assistant Grigory Nikulin remarked to him that the "heir wanted to die in a chair.[92] Very well then, let him have one."[80] The prisoners were told to wait in the cellar room while the truck that would transport them was being brought to the House. A few minutes later, an execution squad of secret police was brought in and Yurovsky read aloud the order given to him by the Ural Executive Committee:
Nikolai Alexandrovich, in view of the fact that your relatives are continuing their attack on Soviet Russia, the Ural Executive Committee has decided to execute you.[93]
Nicholas, facing his family, turned and said "What? What?"[94] Yurovsky quickly repeated the order and the weapons were raised.





You can find other accounts online RE how long it took to actually kill everyone, since the women had crown jewels sewn into their clothes, which impeded bullets.

When the bodies were on their way to be burnt, a Revolutionary peasant-guard stuck his fingers inside the mutilated vagina of Alexandra and then bragged about how he'd fingered the "royal cunt."

Monday, June 18, 2018

Trump: The U.S. will not be a 'migrant camp'

"Not on my watch."

Willie Nelson / Toby Keith- Beer For My Horses


Toby Keith - I Wanna Talk About Me (2001)


 


We talk about your work how your boss is a jerk
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts
We talk about the troubles you've been having with your brother
About your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover
We talk about your friends and the places that you've been
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes
You know talking about you makes me smile
But every once in awhile

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, you, you, usually, but occasionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me

We talk about your dreams and we talk about your schemes
your high school team and your moisturizer creme
We talk about your nanna up in Muncie, Indiana
We talk about your grandma down in Alabama
We talk about your guys of every shape and size
The ones that you despise and the ones you idolize
We talk about your heart, about your brains and your smarts
And your medical charts and when you start
You know talking about you makes me grin
But every now and then

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, you, you, usually, but occasionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me

You you you you you you you you youyouyouyouyou
I wanna talk about me

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, you, you, usually, but occasionally
I wanna talk about me

Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats (2005)

Just reminiscing back to 1989 or so... It's not so cute and pop-songy when you've busted your cheating lover's windshield and then she presses charges! (Thanks, though, Carrie, for helping me overcome my guilt.)



Right now he's probably slow dancing
With a bleached-blond tramp
And she's probably getting frisky
Right now, he's probably buying
Her some fruity little drink
'Cause she can't shoot whiskey

Right now, he's probably up behind her
With a pool stick
Showing her how to shoot a combo
And he don't know

I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seat
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
Slashed a hole in all 4 tires
And maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

Right now, she's probably up singing some
White-trash version of Shania karaoke
Right now, she's probably saying, "I'm drunk"
And he's a thinking that he's gonna get lucky

Right now, he's probably dabbing on 3 dollars
Worth of that bathroom polo
Oh and he don't know

That I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seat
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
Slashed a hole in all 4 tires
And maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl
'Cause the next time that he cheats
Oh, you know it won't be on me!
No, not on me

'Cause I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seat
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
Slashed a hole in all 4 tires
Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats
Oh, maybe next time he'll think before he cheats
Oh, before he cheats

How Do You Like Me Now?! (1999)

Toby Keith is rather a dick, but I love this song in the same way I love "Under My Thumb": Personal triumph sans gender.

"I couldn't make you love me, but I always dreamed about..."

Thursday, June 14, 2018

World Cup 2018!

I'm glad the US didn't qualify because... (1) The US isn't about soccer; here, it's just a latter-day thing for PC parents to enroll their kids in; and (2) I want to root for some deep-down tribal stuff from my "heimat" that actually KNOWS soccer: Deutschland Uber Alles!

That said, World Cup Season is fun --- I work with a lot of people from different places around the globe, and I look forward to good-naturedly arguing with them about the upcoming events! :)  I just put up a "Deutschland Fussball" sign on my office door, hoping to spark some World Cup conversation!





Getting Dressed

Most days when I get dressed for work, I know there's a basic black shirt there, and various multi-colored pants from Old Navy to pair the shirt with. And multiple pairs of black shoes. (Plus blue and beige and brown, and clay-colored, just in case.)

Today I woke up with a happy spring-colored blouse in mind. It matched a peach-colored pair of pants. Which would have been fine, except the only pair of shoes was a gaudy fuschia meant for the fall. (The shirt did have some fuschia in it, but the shoes were too much.) Even though no one looks at me at work, I nonetheless felt embarrassed about how I looked. (Should have picked a pair of white shoes and my one white purse.)

Feeling sloppy and not-quite-right, I then went on an online shopping tear: Berry-colored pants, berry-colored shoes, berry and peach tanks. Oh, and I was also disgusted by my shoulder bag that I've been carrying around for the past few years, a scuffed-up brown that looks OK in winter but looks like shit in spring and summer: Bought a new earth-toned bag, a new wine-colored bag, a new black wallet while I was at it, and then reminded myself to take the time in the morning to plan my outfit.

Now, as a pseudo-intellectual with a Master's in English and all, what I wear should not be important... However: I despise how Austin hippies look, as I have for the past 30 years. I don't want to look like any of them. (If I ever own a pair of Birkenstocks or Tevas, please shoot me.)

NOTE TO SELF: Please take a little more time in the morning to get dressed. That's all. A couple of years ago, when you couldn't afford to look better, that was one thing. Today, though: Instead of buying a bunch of shit at Old Navy, et al., spend a little more on fewer nicer things.

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

I'LL MEET YOU HALFWAY ~ Partridge Family (1971)


Don't get old because this is what will happen.

David Cassidy 2017

The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait (1987)


I'll write you a letter tomorrow
Tonight I can't hold a pen
Someone's got a stamp that I can borrow
I promise not to blow the address again
Lights that flash in the evening,
Through a crack in the drapes
Jesus rides beside me
He never buys any smokes
Hurry up, hurry up, ain't you had enough of this stuff
Ashtray floors, dirty clothes, and filthy jokes
See you're high and lonesome
Try and try and try
Lights that flash in the evening,
Through a hole in the drapes
I'll be home when I'm sleeping
I can't hardly wait


Songwriters: Paul Westerberg