Grammys to Right-Wing Fundagelicals: “In Your Face”.

That, friends, was the first Grammy awards show in years that was worth watching. Hoo boy, somebody must have grown a pair, and allowed some artists to take some risks for a damned change. From Steven Tyler singing Smokey Robinson in front of Smokey Robinson, to Taylor Swift bleeding all over the piano, to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ stinging bitch-slap to the major labels, some truly excellent moments occurred. Note to awards show producers near and far: safe sucks, risk rocks. Learn from this telecast.

But the best part wasn’t purely musical: it was the mass marriage of straight, LGBT, and multi-racial couples at the 2/3 mark of the broadcast. A good rap/gospel mashup number set up the ceremony, and the rap itself was a huge thumb in the eye to all the homophobes who are such an affliction on society.

There were some awesome musical moments, too: Nelson, Haggard, Kristofferson, and Shelton laid out a reminder of what country music used to be before it turned into classic rock sung through nasal cavities; Metallica with a classical pianist; and Imagine Dragons with a helluva hip hop artist, totally melting down the stage; those were just a few of the great musical moments of a rarely-watchable awards show. But it’s not what everyone will be talking about this morning.

And that’s a good thing, overall. Music isn’t just ear candy, you know: it’s part of the zeitgeist, and is as much influenced by as it is influential within it. Last night a few thousand music industry professionals, some of them pretty damned influential, all spoke with one voice. And what that voice said was:”up yours” to the regressive, repressive, and hate-ridden “Christian Conservative” community that wants us all to party like it’s 1499.

The courts, the people, and society as a whole are moving towards a rational, sane, and Constitutional policy on marriage equality. The Grammys added their considerable weight to the discussion, and it’s gonna be a fun week as the “Republicans”, Wingnuts, and Fundies go into full freakout mode, blathering, bullying, lying, shrieking, and generally acting like they can still bluster their way to victory.

That worked for a while, when the majority of the country tried to be civilized when dealing with these Repub barbarians. But people are getting tired of that losing approach. Last night, we saw what happens when we stand up for what is right: great art, great television, good politics, and oh yeah, a ton of money got made, all while serving the greater good and defending our Constitutional freedoms.

In your face, Fundies. In your face while dancing. In your face while we turn the volume up. Because you were right, back in the 50’s and 60’s: rock music IS revolutionary, and it WILL destroy your hateful, bigoted, backwards, hypocritical, lying society. In your face, boyo, because that is a very good thing.

Mr. Blunt and Cranky

Schrödinger’s Tax

Ol’ Willie M. Romney is keeping relevant information about himself and his money (as if there were a difference, and there isn’t, not really) locked in a box that he and his Dominatrix Mistress Boss wife refuse to open, thus leading Mr. Blunt and Cranky to indulge in yet another Schrödinger analogy: since we cannot see what inside the box, people are free to speculate on the “state” of ol’ Willie’s taxes and their underlying finances. And, of course, since they are free to do so, they do so. And do so. And do so. Rinse and repeat.

Queen Ann and her Consort are beaucoup cheesed off that all we icky normal people keep asking their Royal Romninesses about their tax returns. Neither of these clueless faux-royals seems to grok the whole “public servant” thing: unlike the way they have lived their lives up to now (being served by lowly little people), they are aspiring to a position in which Mitt is asking to serve us. And if he wishes to get that job, he’s gonna have to provide some information to his prospective employers, just like a cook, gardener, butler, or any other sort of servant.

Here’s the thing about Schrödinger’s concept: the only way to know the state is to open the box and end the experiment. Until that is done, folks are going to speculate about R-Money in the manner of their choosing (just as physicists do with electron states, albeit with less intellect), and Willie is gonna look more and more secretive, thus less and less trustworthy. Mitt has only himself to blame for closing the box. Why is so he stubborn, petulant, and obstinate? And most importantly, why is he so bewildered by peoples’ insistence that he open it? That’s for tomorrow’s post.

Mr. B & C

Queen Ann Shoots from the Lip Once Again

Ann Romney hath spoken from Her Queenly Perch O’ Entitlement, telling reporter Natalie Morales that She and Lord Willard will not hand out any more information about Their Royal Selves to the media, or we lowly citizens, for that matter. Clearly She and Her little nancy boy Husband have not grasped the difference between public and private sector employment.

Here’s the deal, Annie-me-lass: when one works in the private sector (like Mr. Blunt and Cranky, say), one can live as privately as one wishes. Where you live, how you live, how much money you have, none of that is anybody’s business at all, unless you choose to share it. Most sane people choose to live thus.

Once you decide to operate in the public sector, any expectations of privacy are gone with the wind. And you had to know that, since this ain’t your first rodeo. The law requires one whole helluva lot of disclosure, and lots of politicians (like your late father-in-law, bless him) have raised the bar higher than the law requires, just to make themselves look good avoid even the appearance of a conflict of interest.

Hey, you’re richer than Croesus: good on you, many of us aspire to that. You used the tax laws to your advantage: so do most Americans. You likely have family tragedies that you might not wish to share: same here. So why the secrecy, why the scaredy-cat fuss, why the stonewalling? Because there can’t be anything that bad in your privileged backgrounds – Hell, you’re probably waaaay cleaner than the majority of your prospective subjects fellow citizens.

 If you wanted a completely private life, you should have stayed out of national politics. A wee bit late for that now, though: no matter how Your Royal Romneyness feels, you are going to have to deal with the demands of the new career you and your lackey-boy husband have chosen. Suck it up, buttercup, and open up. And climb off your throne, you look a jackass up there.

Mr. B & C