I’m hustling to get things together to substitute tomorrow for an ill colleague (some might call her the illest of my fellow staff) and the Madness song “Baggy Trousers” came on. Reminded me of this Liberated Negative Space which originally appeared on Nov 27, 2009 at 8:48 am.
“So, what kind of music do you listen to?”
“Mm. Sometimes reggae, but mainly ska. … Mainly ska.”
end original post
And, for the heck of it, here for your Music Moment playing pleasure is Madness, “Baggy Trousers” (Absolutely, Stiff Records, 1980).
Madness — Baggy Trousers
Madness were a 2 Tone second-wave ska band associated with the ska-and-reggae-infused-pop sound of the 1970’s and 80’s, a movement which lay lower and extended its roots more deeply than its little cousin, the more moshin’ third-wave ska-punk sound of the 1980’s and 90’s. I’m suggesting that the second-wave may not have charted as long or as widely and noisily as the later third-wave movement, but it was arguably of greater influence and import musically. Ya hear that, Mighty Mighty Bosstones? Kidding, dudes (they have been around since the early 80’s). To true ska fans, it has never and will never go out of fashion as a genre, so the question of waves becomes one entirely of preference, whether you are in to Mad Caddies or Mighty Bosstones; Pauline Black’s original work with The Selecter or inspired acts like early No Doubt. ‘Scuse me while I go throw on my checkered chucks and filch me some smokes down at the skate park. Catch you on the flip!
I was taking a break from yardwork to make lunch and my daughter was dancing around me swinging something little and slappy on a stick at me. This exchange followed:
Me: Dude! Quit hitting me with that.
Kidlet: (continues trying to hit me)
Me: What even is that?
Kidlet: (stills long enough for me to see it is a miniature U.S. flag on a thin wooden dowel)
Me: Oh, no. That is not — (starts hitting me again) — Hey! Not okay! The flag is NOT a weapon!
Kidlet: The flag IS a weapon! (holds up the dowel end and mimicks stabbing the air Psycho-style)
“American Headache” via the awesome broken spectre on the tumblr.
Tomorrow is Flag Day here in the United States and while I am wary of overdoing it in an oppressive way such as our founding fathers would not have favored and accidentally sewing the seeds of jingoism, I do expect informed respect for patriotic symbols, especially the flag. (See my vitriolic Memorial Day entry for expansion on the issue of this inner conflict and dislike of corporate co-optioning of patriotism) Guess I’ll use it as a jumping-off point to explain to her about flags and traditions, etc.
Steve McQueen.
I did a good, short unit on the National Anthem with the Scamps. Maybe I’ll dig that out of my current tutoree’s textbook when I see her this week, since her mom muscled the school library in to letting her take all her books home for the summer (I’ve said it before but the woman is literally a bulldozer in pumps; it is all I can do not to submissively pee when she enters a room). I remember some of it.
via hellobaltimore Did You Know? The giant flag about which Francis Scott Key wrote seeing wave over Fort McHenry at the end of the Battle of Baltimore was made in just about six weeks by Mary Young Pickersgill, with the aid of her mother and her thirteen-year-old daughter, Caroline, along with her nieces and two freed African-American houesmaids. They were commissioned by Major George Armistead to make the largest flag ever to be flown over a fort up until that time — the apocryphal story goes that he told the women he wanted to make sure the British could see it. The flag is presently going through a restoration to the tune of 18 million dollars right now in preparation for its centrality to the new, redesigned Smithsonian National Museum of American History.
A widow with a spine of steel, Mrs. Pickersgill was one of the first independent female business owners in America. She successfully negotiated contracts for her flagmaking business with the United States Army and the Navy. She was also a passionate humanitarian, being notable in town for “color-blind” hiring in her sewing shop, with a special bent for women’s issues: she founded the Impartial Female Humane Society, which provided school vouchers for young girl children of any race or religion to be educated, along with the provision of networking and employment to their single mothers.
The More You Know.
Flag kicks from Converse. Chux are cool, yes, but please remember they are owned by Nike. I’m just sayin’.
Guess I should have saved all these flag facts for tomorrow, but I figured I had better strike while the iron of my interest was hot — I know what a fickle creature I am, and by tomorrow the flame of my curiosity about flags, Mrs. Pickersgill, and the history of the women’s movement would have died down to embers at best.
Expect to read so much more about this. I can think of like 8 different ways of illustrating some of the amazing points Mr. Schöpflin makes throughout this fascinating essay on assimilation of cultural identities in order to face a morally uncertain future and the ambiguities of morality in a closed system where we pretend it is not bounded and treat as sacrosanct the presupposed morality that sits at its taboo-ridden core, too, like I’d go first obviously with stills from The Dark Knight to illustrate boundaries of security and the agents of anarchy and how new identities must be constructed to counteract them and maintain the safety of the bounded identity, then some Star Wars classic trilogy (Han vs. Boba Fett as two sides of the outsider coin, Luke vs. Vader as defending assimilated symbolic identities), then A Fistful of Dollars, then Sanjuro … like … dag.
But instead I will be in Arcata, kicking these ideas around in my brain while Katohs and I listen to likely pointless drivel about how motivated and enriched the lives of the students at CSU Humboldt are thanks to their four years on the campus. It is like, dudes, she already wants to go here and you have agreed that she should: just tell the girl where the bathrooms and the coffee are, let her find some hookups for less savory entertainments, put in some face time with her department folks, and send us on our way. We do not need the I’m-okay-you’re-okay, hugs-across-the-student-body, banana splits and chicanery. It is well-understood that she is the most supafly and okay-est cat in town. Duh.
But on the plus side — road trip with Special K! Off to google sushi restaurants in Santa Rosa (our lunchtime stopping goal).
The Thought Experiment 