Soul music and existentialism roll in the same sand box. Listen to old Soulville 45 rpm disks on the MoonTravellerHerald Podcast.
Trapped, just a prisoner, yearning. That was the wont of the girls of the soul music, Candi Station, Ann Peebles, Aretha Franklin, Carolyn Franklin, Betty Wright, Jackie Moore, Denise La Salle. That was soul with guitars crying as if playing underwater. It was a time of raw existentialism, as reality was down to the bone. Later came enhancements. Uggh.
Too far to walk. For me it was an existential chore, to climb up that Bascom Hill at 8 am when it was 20 below. To get to existential class, where the TA wore a turtleneck. I got my existentialism out of those spinning 45s. This is for the OneTwoMany Blues Band.
Summer Reading. Heard that Bush’s summer reading list included The Stranger by Camus. If he wanted to be existentially godsmacked, maybe he should take a phone call from Mahalia Jackson. It’s your dime, start talking.
[Off point: Got this quote out of Rumsfeld speech to Air Force group this week. He quotes Clemenceau, just like General Jack D. Ripper.
“War is, as Clemenceau said, a ‘series of catastrophes that results in victory.’”
Well it’s reassuring to know after all this time there is a plan, and that they are on plan.]
[My summer reading: American Prometheus - J. Robert Oppenheimer
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