Maggie's Farm

It's sad to hear of the death of the Godfather of Soul, James Brown, at 73.

It was interesting, but not surprising, to see that he has been on tour.

Rough, raw, and a complete showman, it's hard to imagine anyone putting more more of his spirit into a performance.

Definitely not white bread. Everytime I listen to James Brown I feel a little bit like the college guys in Animal House who wandered into the wrong bar.

He recorded "Please, Please, Please" in 1956. Most of my generation knew him first from "Live at the Apollo" - but he did his best stuff later with his funk bands.

Rude, crude, and socially unacceptable? For sure. "Music" that could make a corpse move their body.

Here's Sex Machine at YouTube.

h/t, Flopping Aces

We must begin with Dylan doing our theme song, Maggie's Farm, from the Rolling Thunder Review

Go Tell it on the Mountain by some Gospel choir

Allman Brothers, Blue Sky. How sweet is that?

Bing Crosby, White Christmas

Grateful Dead, Pretty Peggy-O

Emmylou Harris with the Nash Ramblers at the Ryman, Roses in the Snow (with their Nash Rambler intro - remember that one?)

Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited

Keb Mo, Sweet Home Chicago, with Corey Harris.

Another Keb Mo - Angelina. Love this guy. Like him? Here's Every Mornin'

Bob Dylan, Restless Farewell, at the Sinatra Tribute. Wow. Hypnotic.

John Fogerty, Lodi

Dylan, I Threw it all Away, on the Johnny Cash Show, 1969 

Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho, Mahalia Jackson

Dylan, Highlands

Sinatra, My Way

From the Hagerstown Herald-Mail:

During the 2005-06 school year, 28 kindergarten students in Maryland were suspended for sex offenses, including sexual assault, sexual harassment and sexual activity, according to state data. Fifteen of those suspensions were for sexual harassment.

The precocity of these Maryland kids is remarkable, is it not? Or would it be better understood as a mass outbreak of a pedophilia epidemic, requiring governmental intervention? (h/t, The Moderate Voice)

This is a stupid time-waster. Get Santa drunk.

You must use your arrow keys - and don't let Santa touch the train tracks. Turn on the sound for best effect.

Graham Owen can tie flies which can fool other bugs - and he can take stunning photos too. Thanks, Synthstuff, for the remarkable blog find - Flies with an Attitude. Sample:

From a review of a new book by Gregory Curtis on cave art, in WaPo:

For centuries, cave art was ignored or dismissed as a clever prank. But in 1879, a Spanish scholar named Marcelino Sanz de Sautuola had a eureka moment when he was poking around in a cave called Altamira in Spain. He was overwhelmed by paintings of life-size bison on the cave's ceiling; this was, writes Curtis, "the first time we know of that an artist from the distant Stone Age touched the soul of a modern person." When Sautuola tried to publicize his findings, which linked the art to discoveries of prehistoric tools and carvings found on horns and other hard surfaces, archaeologists turned on him, mocking his conclusions with a savage fury. The great debate was on, and the theories and counter theories haven't stopped since. Curtis deftly leads us on a tour of contending interpretations, although some of the terms can be rather arcane.

I feel badly about the climbers, and their families...but...if you want to climb Mt. Hood in December, get rescue insurance and have a rescue plan in place in case it is needed.

Either that, or sign something comparable to a DNR note: "We accept the risk, and we're on our own." Along with generous life insurance which covers it, to take care of your kids' educations.

Mt. Hood has no guardrails, and no McDonalds. It is a dead-serious deal, and everyone knows that. The danger is the appeal.

Why should the citizens of Oregon subsidize macho stunts like these with their hard-earned taxes? Isn't the whole point of climbing to risk life and limb? To encounter mortal danger when life is otherwise so soft, safe and protected? To find a trail without guardrails? To find a place where you cannot be rescued, and cannot find a McDonalds or a mall, and must face nature's harsh face?

I have had just two friends who "climb." One saw his mother fall to her death on the Matterhorn (photo). The other saw his best friend fall to his death in a snow-covered crevasse in Alaska, and roped down to pull up the mangled body. Neither of them "climb" anymore: unpleasant memories.

Death, when voluntarily courting mortal danger, is not a tragedy. It might be heroic, as in war, or an accepted risk, but not tragic: in our cozy, modern American life, you have to go well out of your way, and spend serious money, to find serious risk - unless you do something stupid and emotional like stepping on thin ice, or trying to outsmart the stock market. There is no tragic flaw involved.

On Everest, you are on your own, and it is strewn with freeze-dried bodies as memento mori. I admire folks who take on such adventures. I do not care for heights, however. If you want a safe, comfy vacation, go to Tinsley World instead of Mt. Hood, or take a walk around the neighborhood with the pup and the camera.

If you die on a mountain, we will remember you as someone with cojones, but not as tragic. People die on mountains all the time, but it only makes the news during slow news weeks. Hope the last two are OK, and that they can find another hobby.

Don't forget a couple of our favorite web shopping sites: Sierra Trading Post, and, of course, Cabela's.

Also, for the gentry, Kevin's.