Month: September 2007

Comment Is Free

I’m getting more comfortable with the Word Press software that powers this Blarg, so I’ve been stretching out and enjoying some of its features. First off, comment is now free. I’ve disabled the requirement that a reader must register before posting a comment, but I’ve increased the scrutiny of the spam filter. So, please, do leave comments on these posts but try to avoid writing about viagra or mortgage refinancing, or else your comments might be deleted unread. Secondly, I have now deigned to accept your direct e-mail correspondence, in the Pen Pal link to the left. Thanks to Frieda Gerson for pestering me to finally set up a contact form, and to Shannon Hammock for actually writing lonesome me. Finally, I can now peep the peepers, using a tool that shows what search engine terms are directing people to this website. To the young men who are searching this […]

Prudish Socialists

Steadily making my way through Si Gerson’s books, I’m surprised (although I’m not sure why) by instances of prudishness of our revolutionary heroes. In his “History of the Three Internationals,” William Z. Foster spends a hundred pages after the end of the Third International to ruminate on then-contemporary issues. This material is all, essentially, Party-line, what with the impending crisis of capitalism (in 1954), the imperialist Social Democrats and so on. Within it, this passage manages to stand out as uniquely wrong-headed: In the field of culture there is likewise a general retrogression throughout the capitalist world, above all in the United States, with its cultural mess of pragmatism, psychoanalysis, neo-Malthusianism…with its swamp of “comic” books, oceans of sex, crime and horror stories, printed and on the radio and television. Foster was 73 when he wrote this, and he sounds like a nagging grandpa. But, sadly, this is Party line […]

John Turturro’s Queens Musical

It’s hard to imagine in this DVD age that John Turtuorro’s “Romance and Cigarettes” could languish in a studio vault, largely unseen by the public, for over two years. In many ways a valentine to Queens, particularly the areas down south by Kennedy airport, where things get weird, Turturro’s working class characters break into song and dance when feeling most dreary and desperate. It’s a familiar device to fans of Dennis Potter, but unlike “The Singing Detective” or “Pennies From Heaven,” “Romance and Cigarettes” neglect to weigh down its narrative with believable drama. The family at the heart of the story are hard to take seriously, with Aida Turturro and Mary Louise Parker playing James Gandolfini’s daughters. The characters are probably supposed to be teenagers, or at least in their early twenties, if their living at home and playing in a backyard punk rock band is supposed to be believable […]

They Can’t Drive These Cars Themselves

Is the NYC cabdriver strike successful? It’s hard for me to say. The only time that I spend in Manhattan these days is a few minutes underground, switching from the Long Island Rail Road to New Jersey Transit on my way to Rutgers. The Taxi Workers Alliance, which called the strike over a city mandate that yellow cabs install credit card machines and GPS systems, claims that 80% of the city’s cab drivers stayed home. Mayor Bloomberg is pooh-poohing the extent of the job action. Strolling around Greenwich Village tonight, I saw exactly three cabs when I would normally see dozens more. It’s easy to shake one’s head in confusion over the cause of the strike. What’s wrong with providing more consumer service, you may ask? Isn’t this fear of GPS a wee bit paranoid? Keep in mind the precarious position of most cabbies. They are not employees (and the […]

The Human Being Inside Bill Foster

Still poring through Si Gerson’s books, I’m having fun playing labor historian, although I’m not sure who’s benefiting (a young comrade in another forum complained, “this post seems like a big name drop…I don’t really need to read the words of dead men to know how I think society ought to be structured.”). I came across a fascinating observation about William Z. Foster in Nat Hentoff’s lamentably brief biography of A.J. Muste. Muste is best known as a pacifist, a leader of the Fellowship of Reconciliation and the War Resisters League, who mentored Bayard Rustin, David McReynolds and scores of other activists committed to nonviolent resistance and was a leading light of the opposition to nuclear armaments and the early stages of the Vietnam War (he died in 1967). He had quite the interesting biography before all that. A protestant minister who quit his congregation to resist the first World […]

Wisdom in Old Books

Shortly after writing about Sophie Gerson’s passing a few weeks ago, I was contacted by her grand-daughter Frieda and daughter Deborah. They’re cleaning out the family house in Bensonhurst and thought I might be interested in some of Si Gerson’s books. Would I! Si had a voluminous book collection on topics like socialism, the labor movement, election law and policy and New York City politics that stretched back decades. There was an impressive diversity to Si’s collection, as it was not limited, like too many young leftists’ today, to those writers with whom he agreed. Si’s habit of underlining sections and scribbling exclamation points in the margin suggest his opinion of the material. My favorite so-far being the prominent question mark beside Norman Thomas’ preposterous claim, in “Socialism Re-Examined,” that Marx’s theory of surplus labor value could not account for automation (Marx, of course, devotes several chapters of “Capital Vol. […]

Every Five Years Or So

Like some strange comet that irregularly circles our solar system, two great bands graced our record stores with the rare appearance of new records. The Mekons are perhaps my favorite band. I’ve written about them extensively here and in other places. An original summer of ’77 punk band – contemporaries of the Gang of Four – our comrades from Leeds released a string of good-on-paper singles and LPs, broke up, reunited to play benefit concerts for the striking miners, kick-started the alternative country scene with a trio of indie-released records, recorded some pretty terrific rock-n-roll anthems, got signed and dropped from more records labels than the Sex Pistols, been the shoulda-been, coulda-been, woulda-been saviors of rock music and then scattered across the globe to get on with their personal lives. With the band spread across both hemispheres, from Hong Kong to London, New York to Chicago and San Francisco, and […]