Guiliani - "Democrats, the party of losers"

"Democrats, Party of Losers," says Guiliani.

Thanks to Salon.

Yes, I refuse to acknowledge that the war in Iraq is doing *anything* to keep us safer. For that matter, I completely acknowledge that the war in Iraq is making us *less* safe, as most experts acknowledge, as well.

Brian Wilson Is A God

I spent three hours yesterday upstairs in my living room, on the floor, in a meditative cross-legged sitting position, with my head in my hands, eyes mostly closed, listening to:

Don't Let Me Down
Here Comes the Sun
Hello, Goodbye
Let It Be

And...

Pet Sounds (twice, once in mono, and once in stereo)

I realized then that I take it back, what I've said about Ringo Starr. He wasn't just in the right place at the right time, but he is a great drummer, period. Let It Be has the best guitar solo that I've ever heard, and I know I've said it before, but this time, it was an ethereal experience that I can't quite sum up in words. I think there is something so great about all of those instruments together, building into a fantastic finale of crashing awesomeness (and Barrelled, the bass slides are spectacular, aren't they, at the end?).

Don't Let Me Down, I think, really hit me rather hard (although a little less so than Let It Be, for obvious reasons). I know I've said it a million times - a great pop song should never be much longer than 3 minutes, but I really wish this one had gone on forever.

Moving on to Pet Sounds...

I felt such deep pathos for Brian Wilson, and I realize that I've been wrong in my focus on *certain* songs on Pet Sounds, rather than listening to the album in its entirety, which is an opera unto itself, a novel of Brian Wilson, and an autobiography of his brain, or even better, his soul. I realized that most humans communicate through talking, and that Brian's interface with the world was fundamentally broken. I could picture him struggling, all of that time, trying to communicate with the rest of us mere mortals, in a way that was alternately, superbly innocent, yet undeniably complex and mature.

(And recorded on nothing more than 3, 4 and 8-track?!?!?! HOLY CRAP!!@!@#)

I may be wrong in saying that Brian Wilson is a god, but he is certainly a prophet, and I haven't begun to process the post-excursion euphoria into real words, but I feel awash in something so beautiful and wonderful that I can barely contain myself (as I sit at the desk of the job that I despise, which even *that* can't bring me down today). In the liner notes of the re-release of Pet Sounds, Brian Wilson says that he felt like he had a halo over his head while he was recording the album. I believe him.

I had a picture of him, in an alternate universe, picking all of these wondrous sounds off a tree, ripe, and bursting with all this musical goodness. I could see him, contemplating taking that long trip down that ladder, back to earth, to give it to us, not in a condescending way, but in a compassionate gifting.

All I can say to that is (and I'm sure it's been said before, by people way more profound than me):

Thank you, Brian Wilson. God only knows what I'd do without you.