Commie Curmudgeon

It's strange that just after I was once again singing the praises of Loop Guru and Natacha Atlas, who both introduced their music to the world via Nation Records (since Natacha was first in Transglobal Underground), an article got posted on Infoshop, originally from BBC News, discussing how Aki Nawaz, one of the co-founders of Nation Records, might be risking a jail sentence for describing the thoughts of a suicide bomber in a song on Fun-Da-Mental's new album, All Is War (The Benefits of G-Had).

The article quotes a verse from the song "Cookbook DIY": "I'm strapped-up 'cross my chest, bomb belt attached, deeply satisfied with the pain I hatched, electrodes connected to a gas cooker lighter." And it almost goes without saying... If singing that line in a song can qualify someone in the UK for a prison sentence under some anti-terrorism law, then the state of civil liberties in Great Britain is in really sorry shape, possibly even worse than in the U.S. But this is something that I've heard already, so the existence of this "glorification of terrorism law" and the threats it poses, while troubling, isn't exactly shocking at this point either.

As for Aki's lyrics, according to the article, two other "directors" from Nation Records also find the album disturbing and have threatened to quit the label. However, given what I know about this band and the label (and the controversial things they've done going back to the early '90s), I have to wonder whether these "directors" are really bothered by the lyrics, or just the lyrics in the context of the current repressive climate...

Aki himself says that he finds the killing of innocent civilians to be "repulsive" and, knowing what I do about this artist and his group, I believe him 100 percent. Fun-Da-Mental has always created occasional songs built around Muslim characters whose desperation and thoughts of violence might make a lot of us uncomfortable. They have also created songs calling for the struggle of all people together against capitalism and imperialism, and they have had songs that were blatantly feminist. (I may be mistaken, but I don't think a group favoring Islamic fundamentalism would produce a song that declares, "Women are exploited and oppressed the world over, from East to West.") Fun-Da-Mental's songs have included samples from Gandhi, King, Malcolm X, and Chomsky. (Yes, on one of their albums, they sample Noam Chomsky.) So, if anyone wants to say that this is a group that would seriously promote Jihad of the Al Qaeda variety, that person would be on shaky grounds, to say the least.

If you go to their Web site and click on "politics," you'll find an article by George Monbiot (a journalist who was active in the roads protest movement) on how to overthrow Tony Blair. This excerpt, I think, more closely describes the real politics of Fun-Da-Mental:

The formula for making things happen is simple and has never changed. If you wish to alter a policy or depose a prime minister between elections, you must take to the streets. Without the poll tax riots, Mrs Thatcher might have contested the 1992 election. If people hadn't been ripping up GM crops, they would be in commercial cultivation in Britain today. In the 1990s, protesters forced the government to cut its road-building budget by 80 percent. Most of the cities whose roads were occupied by Reclaim the Streets have introduced major traffic calming or traffic reduction schemes. Gordon Brown stopped increasing fuel tax in response to the truckers' blockades.

Direct action, in other words, works.
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And it's not just because direct action works that we should try it. If Blair goes, it should be our victory, not that of the little grey men. The people must be seen to have done it. Why? Because this is about more than punishing the prime minister for what was almost certainly a war crime. It is about making sure it never happens again.
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If we depose the prime minister through direct action, he will doubtless be succeeded by someone almost as bad, but the political context in which that someone operates will have changed. He will be forced to govern with one eye on the people, and to demonstrate that his policies differ from those of his predecessor. And the issue he would be obliged to address first is Britain's relationship with the rest of the world. Whoever succeeded Blair in these circumstances would tone down our foreign policy until it resembled that of the other northern European states.

To become a civilised, moderate, responsible nation, in other words, we must first become a nation of extremists.

Actually, I don't entirely agree with this article, because it's not radical enough. Why simply strive to become "a civilised, moderate, responsible nation"? Another bourgeois European nation? We'll have to go well beyond that as a society to survive. Nonetheless, I think that this anti-Blair rhetoric combined with talk of direct action is probably enough to make a few officials want to lock Aki Nawaz (and the rest of them) up. (A few brave journalists might talk like this in some left-wing paper in Britain, but not rock groups, not in this day and age!) But they'd have to get the band first with a trumped up charge of glorifying terrorism...
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P.S. As some people might notice... I've also posted some of this post as a comment over at Infoshop.

P.P.S. I've taken a look at the actual lyrics from the present album, also found on the site. If I have quibbles with the political approaches here, it's the same quibbles I would have with other leftists emphasizing "anti-imperialism" and too easily falling into the trap of focusing on ethnically or tribally based struggle against Western colonialism or imperialism while not talking enough about the class struggle and power struggles that exist within every group (which could potentially unite us internationally). But this is from a brief glimpse, and I know that Fun-Da-Mental in the past has more specifically criticized the capitalist system. This is an angry album, but the anger is intelligently articulated, and while it sometimes clearly supports armed struggle by oppressed people, I would not at all call it a "glorification of terrorism." (Not that the state would care to make such distinctions, of course.)

Swell Maps in "Jane from Occupied Europe": I was happy when I found this wonderful vinyl LP full of psychedelic punk noise buried in my poor battered record collection. People compare this to early Pink Floyd. I think it's better. Maybe like stripped down, hyperkinetic early Pink Floyd. But it doesn't really sound like anything from the '60s, despite the comparison. Very much a post-punk album of 1980, when it came out...and a reminder of a fact that few people know, that 1980 was a great year for underground rock'n'roll.

Loop Guru - Duniya: Early Asian Underground techno, but also something of an ambient masterpiece, from 1994... When I heard this that year (on some underground radio show somewhere), I had to run out and buy the import CD, which I then listened to over and over, and I don't think a year has passed when I listened to this any less. The title of the album is in Urdu; it means "the world." That's a pretty fit title for the album, though the "world" influences (which are mostly South Asian and east Asian) are blended into the ambient electronica in a very integrated kind of way, so the overall effect is more ambient than "world beat," but this album is so much better than any number of eastern-influenced chill-out techno records that came out later on.

Miranda Sex Garden - Fairytales of Slavery: Miranda had started out as a strange novelty outfit doing Renaissance vocals in a screeching acapella way, and they evolved into a combination of Gothic horror soundtrack music, very heavy metal, experimental quasi-shoegazer music, and still more than a trace of those screeching Renaissance vocals... Some people consider them one of the ultimate Goth bands. Well, I guess I am something of a Goth. This week I also did listen to their acapella debut Madra, and I wished I could listen to Suspiria, which had been my favorite for a long time (and might still be, but I have to replace the tape, which broke)... But I listened at least twice to Fairytales of Slavery - which, by the way, contains a great cover of Bertolt Brecht's "Havanna-Lied."

Natacha Atlas - Ayeshteni: Did I say I was moving away from Natacha Atlas? Well, that didn't last for long. I had to listen to this one because, in my head, I kept hearing her cover of "I Put a Spell on You." I did a little search and noticed that a couple of months ago(?), she'd come out with a new album, Mish Maoul. How could I have mished that? From the reviews/descriptions, it looks just incredible... I'm going to have to get a copy, even though I have no money now...

All right, after complaining about forums that spotlight the intellectual stars of socialism, I'm going to have to give kudos to one myself. I like this comment from Barbara Ehrenreich (one old star of the Democratic Socialists of America who, if I'm not mistaken, actually seems to be moving to the left):

Much as I'd like to see all these miscreants brought to justice - in something like the "thought reform" camps of the Chinese Cultural Revolution - I tend to think the emphasis on bad bosses is a little misguided. The problem isn't particular bosses, but what I call Bossism - the hierarchical system which governs all known bureaucracies, both public and private. Giving one person huge power over others is like a giving a three-year-old a hose: not everyone will get soaked but the chances of coming out dry are slender.

But, you may be wondering, how would anything get done without bosses and Bossism? Well, a surprising amount gets done that way all the time, as I saw in my Nickel and Dimed jobs. If the restaurant gets swamped or the nursing home residents start tossing their food around, don't count on a manager to tell you what to do - if, indeed, there is a manager within hailing distance. In crisis situations, I again and again saw low-paid workers organize themselves, more or less spontaneously, everyone pitching in and helping each other, with no one playing the role of "boss." As for any real boss on the scene, the best he or she could do in a crisis was to pitch in - or get out of the way.

What I was witnessing was workplace democracy in action, or, more fancily put, what French sociologists call "autogestion," or workers' self-determination....

I had mixed feelings about the success of Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel and Dimed, because while it told a story (or stories) that needed to be told, it was the product of a prestigious, well-off writer getting those stories by going undercover (or slumming), while I think we need to have more room for books written directly by the people who are getting "Nickel and Dimed" or worse all the time, not by their own choice. And, no, I don't think they are all incapable of writing about those experiences themselves. Nor are the subjects of Bait and Switch (whose fate my own probably more closely mirrors - although I think I'm sort of somewhere between the two - although I won't know for sure until I read both books completely...).

There are quite a few decent writers out there who are poor, underemployed, unemployed, unknown, and/or homeless. I've met some. And to some extent, pardon my modesty, I may be one. And they - we - all of us on the "left" - would benefit if more "unknowns" were able to get their own tales of hardship within the capitalist system published first-hand (and also read widely) instead of everybody relying on a prestigious and well-off leftist to go undercover in order to get those stories out. (By the way, I've blogged about this before.) But all that having been said, I can't criticize Barbara Ehrenreich herself too much for doing what she did, and I'm getting to like her work more. I may even add her blog to my list - especially considering the subject matter, "comments on working in America," which I think is awfully underrepresented in the area of the blogosphere where it should have primary importance, over on the left.

Anxious over having lost my only stable 15 hours of work per week, I've been spending some hours during the past week or so browsing through the nonprofit job listings at Idealist Org. To me, for many reasons, this is always an extremely depressing task. However, there is a part of me that says, maybe I should get into the nonprofit sector, just to find a paying job that might be just a LITTLE more appropriate to my social attitudes and desired purpose(s) in life than all these corporate [fill in the blank]s for whom I've been working over the years. And maybe going in this direction will be the only way I will once again be able to find a "regular" job with health benefits, etc. Assuming that I could even get hired by any of these nonprofits, with all their own particular biases (ageism being the most common one, followed by who knows how many preconceptions about what it takes to "fit in" and that sort of thing)...

Anyway, sometimes, the ads that they run are really bad, so bad that they are funny, because some of these "progressive" organizations obviously don't even have a clue as to how un-progressive they really are. For example, here's a line from an ad that I just saw:

B[...] content is written specifically for a low-income audience, in languages and at a literacy level (6th grade) that speaks directly to them.

Meanwhile, this same company is listing no less than four "Internship" positions for which the salary is specified as "Unpaid." If this company assumes that all low-income people must be addressed at a sixth grade reading level because that is the only way to "speak directly to them" (and certainly, we can't expect low-income people to have the brilliant literacy level of the average corporate supervisor or the U.S. president), then what kind of literacy level do they expect from the people who won't get any pay at all from them?

Although, probably, they would be reluctant to hire an intern unless s/he were very young and obviously living off the generosity of well-off parents, a rare college grant, or a trust fund.

For that matter, I wonder if they would be suspicious of anyone who worked for them at a low income (in their quest to help the poor) unless they could be assured that such a person had the advantage of belonging to the affluent class.

(Liberal non-profit types, how I love them, always eager to help those who are LESSER than themselves...)

I'm getting really weary of a "left" based on money and privilege. I was once fed up enough with the academic groundings, class-based elitism and affluence of a number of leaders in the "anarchist" movement; then I started hanging around Marxists and found out that the biggest "Marxists" are the ones with tenured positions at universities, and that some of these people are so divorced from the basic needs and struggles of real working people (and unemployed people), that they have to create new, articificial struggles - based on petty, obscure disputes and rivalries, etc. - just to add some sense of conflict and struggle to their own lives. (Of course, there are other reasons for these petty disputes - frustration over the lack of a revolution to fight and that sort of thing, but I couldn't help noticing that some of the people who indulge most in nasty academic-type Marxist rivalries are also quite obviously comfortable, in a material way. So, where do they fit into the "class struggle," really?) Moreover, all the debates that you read about in public forums and that sort of thing that are supposed to be at the "cutting edge" of Marxism are populated by people who either are professors or are enrolled in some expensive program where they are studying to become the same. So, they are, or are studying to be, paid specialists in revolution, with all the privileges that come with that. Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this picture?

Naturally, some of my objection comes right out of envy. Right now, I'm thinking maybe I should have gone down that path. There was a time in my life when that window was a little more open than it is now. But, actually, the path never really appealed to me that much (nor does it today - except as a sort of survival tactic) because I never cared about the system or institutions that create and elevate entirely unnecessary specialists. (Plus, I always had trouble with the idea of being given the task of imparting knowledge to students - and dealing with classrooms full of students - but maybe that's a different matter.) And now, because of considerations such as age and really screwed up finances (and lack of a good steady wage), the task seems particularly daunting. So, the way I'm feeling right now, I can't afford to be an "active" socialist.

It doesn't help that the people who consider themselves the biggest socialists decide to hold conferences that no struggling, working person can afford. The Left Forum and Socialist Scholars' conference were a little pricey, but now we have this conference purporting to be a real socialists' conference, that's charging $100 a head. How many real struggling workers are going to pay $100 for a weekend conference like this? I can't imagine any would.

The conference is run by the ISO, which is a little problematical anyway as far as I'm concerned because, of course, they're Trotskyists, and they're pretty typical, pro-statist type Trotskyists to boot. (No time to explain here exactly what that means...but I'm sure plenty of people reading this would know what I'm talking about.) But I wouldn't entirely dismiss this conference content-wise, because I think there are a few interesting socialists speaking, with some knowledge to share about opposing capitalism, etc. (just as in the ISO's magazines, which aren't all that bad). But not for a conference price of $100, that's for sure. (Although I'm sure that as with the Socialist Scholars' Conference and the Left Forum, there are a good number of people who can get in for free - as long as they know the right people and/or are in the right clubs...)

Plus, as with the Left Forum, I have only limited interest in listening to the stars of socialism impart their great wisdom to fans watching them silently in an auditorium or big classroom. I long for the heyday of our "anti-globalization movement," when a special anti-glob event (mass mobilization or visiting protest, etc.) actually brought with it some kinds of forums for a more open sharing of ideas. Granted, they weren't as anti-hierarchical as they claimed to be (in part because some of the groups were really run, and well controlled, by bourgeois or upper class people), but they were better than these academic-style conferences, and there did seem to be a little room, at least, for people who weren't big professors or other kinds of stars to have a say.

I'm a little ambivalent, because I also have for a while liked some of the writings of some of the academic bigshots. (I don't read him as much anymore but, hey, I did name my old cat Chomsky. And I'll be the first one to praise something good by Mike Davis, Frances Fox Piven, or David Harvey...though, on the other hand, I know these aren't the biggest, trendiest of the stars.) But that doesn't mean I want our "socialist" movement to be so heavily based on the success of such people, or on the success of anyone in that bourgeois institution known as the "academy."

And most of all, I do not want a "socialist" movement that you can participate in only if you can afford it. Never mind the expensive degree programs and conferences, take a look at some of the price tags on your favorite academic books. Especially if they're cutting-edge works about the working class or class struggle... How many struggling workers are going to want to pay $35 or $50 for a paperback? (In case you think I'm exaggerating, take a trip to your favorite lefty academic bookstore... I go to Labyrinth, near Columbia. And I usually just end up reading in the aisles and looking later to see if I can find any of these writings in the library or on the Internet.)

But, of course, these complaints that I have are just a few among many. I've come to realize more and more that though I can't help having, and being committed to, beliefs that are (extremely?) leftist, I have less and less affinity for the non-movement or non-community here in the U.S. that passes for "the left."
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P.S. Some of this post may have been influenced or encouraged by some comments someone else made over at Indymedia in response to the ISO's conference listing - basically, it was the same complaints about unaffordability, etc. But I'm not sure I can find those comments, which were made a while ago, and I don't really feel like spending too much time searching through Indymedia, which I don't particularly like all that much either these days.

Now for an entirely different Saint Etienne, with an exhibition of work that is definitely not pretty, and not meant to be... Thanks to Wood's Lot for calling attention to the politically charged grotesquerie of Sue Coe.

I first learned about Sue Coe in the mid-late 1980s, when I was 26 or so, through an older (35+-year-old) hippie artist friend of mine...let's call her "M" here... M was the woman who gave me my basic training at my first legal proofreading job (mainly because she was the only staff person who kind of liked me - while the other few found me weird and/or unsociable...and I liked M quite a bit too). Anyway, while she taught me legal proofreading, M also taught me a lot about the art that was around at the time, and she even took me on a couple of fascinating gallery tours. And so, even a number of years before I became as political as I am now, I learned a good deal about Sue Coe...

And I believe that Sue Coe has influenced a few political artists that some of us have come to know more recently through the anarchist/activist scene, and influenced them quite obviously. But they don't hold a candle to Coe in terms of impact. If she were not political, I'm not sure I or most people would have gravitated toward her work just as something to look at. But the graphics and commentary meet in a very suitable place, somewhere within the inner circles of hell.

If you go over to the gallery page's prints section, you'll find a good sampling of her works, including a few darkly amusing things that she's done very recently. I don't think I've ever seen anything like the drawing, "Herded into the Superdome and Bush Shits on the People." No, Sue was never exactly one for subtlety...
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P.S. The above gallery site also links to another interesting site, Graphic Witness, which includes not only lots of Sue Coe, but also Hugo Gellert's Karl Marx' 'Capital' in Lithographs!

[I decided to cut the unnecessary explanation as to why I go the urge to do this. Every so often, I'm going to be mentioning what I'm listening to during a particular week - assuming it's any different from what I was listening to in the prior particular week...]

1. Saint Etienne - I think this may be my favorite pop/rock/dance band. I like all of their albums so far, from the earlier releases such as So Tough (an early-mid '90s album that I actually had mixed feelings about at first, but which grew on me over the years to become one of my favorite albums of all time) to later releases such as 2000's Sound of Water ; I'm also now finally getting into their latest, Tales from Turnpike House (though it's still not one of my favorites like the other two). This band has always had a knack for combining the most beautiful and melodic pop surfaces with compelling, fascinating things in the background - whether this means combining uplifting semi-retro pop vocals with highly innovative dub-reggae beats, or combining a slower, more day-dreamy, lullaby-like music on the surface with some fascinating ambient-style experimentation underneath... Most of it is just so pretty and at the same time so deeply layered and innovative, I find it irresistible.

2. Dead Can Dance - This music is probably closest to my usual mood... Probably no need to describe them in much detail here (since I have, extensively, before). Possibly the most advanced, as well as beloved, globally influenced ethereal goth band.

3. Black Tape for a Blue Girl - Also described them extensively before. Kind of like something between Dead Can Dance and ambient Brian Eno. Sometimes a little strained or pretentious sounding, but actually very beautiful when it comes out right - which must be at least two thirds of the time. And even when it doesn't come out right, I have to like them for trying so earnestly. (Plus, as I mentioned sometime back, the founder of the band has true anti-capitalist leanings... He even quotes from the Communist Manifesto in one old interview....)

4. Speed Limit 140 BPM Plus - Also an old standard for me. Classic hardcore techno, with those speeded up vocals, that proto-jungle hyped-up hip-hop/reggae, all that screeching discordant electronica occasionally trying to masquerade as upbeat dance music... This was from 1993 and, as far as I'm concerned, they just don't make them like this anymore. I love this stuff!

5. Scorn - Well, just one of their albums, Zander (also from the '90s, I think). It's kind of like Public Image's Second Edition without the vocals. Deep, dark, discordant dubby stuff, great for background music, especially if you're in an edgy mood.

Lately, I have been easing up a little on Natacha Atlas and other Middle Eastern sounds (unless you count bits of Dead Can Dance). Meanwhile, I've been enjoying some of the salsa music coming out of car stereos and cuchifritos counters. This could be my next "global" musical influence...though some of the more commercial Latino music that I hear is a bit repulsive (thank goodness we're not hearing that "gasolina" song as much anymore this spring/summer). But, we'll see...

I realized that I was having a rushed and harried time earlier today (or yesterday, technically), when I noticed that I had typed a "new" update that repeated half the things I'd said in the prior post. So, I scrapped that after a couple of hours and decided to try again...

Right now I am staying in Port Richmond, Staten Island (right next to the Bayonne Bridge), at the house of asfodel and Mike. I have brought my cat Chomsky over, hoping he will be able to adapt to having new people take care of him, at least for a time. He seems to like his new environment, but he is also following me from room to room, sleeping next to me wherever I am (he's asleep next to the computer chair right now) and not letting me out of his sight. This doesn't seem to bode well regarding how he will adapt when I am gone most of the time. I'll probably miss him too, though I will have plenty of cats to entertain me in the new place in Mott Haven. This cat has been with me for quite a while. He's outlasted several different residences, friends and girlfriends (back in the days when girlfriends were part of the picture). I am not sure what things will be like during this break, after ten years of being together with this cat. (OK, so I am repeating myself again. Oh, well.) But this is only one element of uncertainty to be contended with in the near future.

A couple of weeks ago, I lost my regular weekend "temp" job. That's 15 hours of steady work and income that I depended on amidst the complete precarity of other, real temp work. Now it's all real temp work. Hypothetically, as long as I stay "on top" of the situation, I shouldn't have trouble replacing those hours. But now there will be no break in this non-routine of having to run out to jobs on a moment's notice, without being able to depend on anything. It's been two and a half years since I was completely in that position, and I don't know if I can handle it appropriately anymore. I think I'm ready to settle for a significantly lower hourly wage in order to gain a modicum of stability. They've got me now...

I was feeling pretty good about the new place in Mott Haven, and still am, mostly. But an old friend who's good at pointing out the worst in everything (even better than I am) just sent me some e-mails reminding me how much the situation that I'm going into really isn't ideal. He thinks I would be better off with my own place and the freedom from dealing with roommates altogether. Maybe that's true, but given the options, I still think I might get some positive experiences out of this "punk boarding house." And knowing my personal tendency toward reclusivity and self-isolation, maybe it would be good to be forced to counter that a little - provided that the present housemate situation is more compatible and comfortable than the apartment-mate situation prior to this. And so far that seems to be very much the case, though I haven't actually even slept there yet. But I like the landlord (which I may have mentioned before - but it is so unusual for me to like the landlord), and I do like the neighborhood.

The tales of artistic makeover and/or upcoming gentrification of the South Bronx may be slightly exaggerated, which is probably a good thing. "White" people like myself are still very much in the minority, and I might be more educationally privileged than many people in the area (at least in formal terms), though I imagine I'm on similar economic footing to many people here. But it also seems very lively around here, in a positive way. When I compare this area to the depressed mini-slum where I lived in Staten Island...there's no comparison. There are run-down blocks in Mott Haven (I'll be on one of them), and there are seedy spots. But this area of The Bronx is rich in a certain urban quality that's harder to describe, which you won't find in that last neighborhood in Staten Island, which reminds me more of a rundown section of New Jersey than anything in New York.

Maybe I'm just romanticizing the new neighborhood. Maybe it's a way for me to keep some sanity in the face of so many unpleasant challenges coming up. But right now, I do just like it there. I was walking through the streets of "So Bro" just the other day, thinking, "this is really kind of cool." The new landlord commented that I would miss the Morris Park area, where I had just lived, because it was kind of nice "up there" with all the neat houses and parks, etc., and I answered that it had seemed kind of boring to me. I do like some exposure to nature once in a while (which you don't get much of in the inner city, admittedly). But I also really like a solidly urban atmosphere. A lot of people say they prefer the city because it always provides them with things to do, such as plays and concerts and movies (as long as they have all the money to do that). But I'm not so into going to places to be entertained. I mostly like to walk around and take in my surroundings. Assuming I don't encounter some unexpected unpleasantness or something else to change my perspective, I think I'll be exploring a few new streets now. Although, I suppose I'll also enjoy some of the museums and new galleries to be found in Mott Haven - that is one "cultural product" of the city that I'd like to enjoy a little bit more (again) these days...

Though it's not the perfect season for me to go exploring through the streets, etc. Summer hit New York City in earnest yesterday, and it was difficult to take. I kind of look forward more to the fall, even if there is a lot of uncertainty to get through before then...

As I may have mentioned, I also am enjoying getting back to my Bronx roots. My mother taught at Morris High School - which, despite the similarity in names, is not in the Morris Park area but, rather, the upper South Bronx (166th and Boston Road). She taught at that place for 30 years, from the '60s to the '90s. And as I recall, the social chaos in that neighborhood was legendary in the '70s; it even inspired a movie called "Fort Apache." (Yes, there is so much racism and other negative kinds of prejudice built into that label and characterization, it can offend Native Americans, Latinos and African Americans all at once. But never mind that for now...)

The other day, when I decided to take a bus from my "old" neighborhood to my new one (a rather slow two-mile journey), I got to pass through "Fort Apache," which was actually looking quite peaceful. I'm not sure how much the area, itself, has changed and how much my perspective has. When I was a kid growing up near Fordham Road (on 184th Street and Tiebout Avenue), I enjoyed the bad publicity on neighborhoods just a mile or a few blocks away. It's fun in a way to regard the place down the street as some forbidden territory. It's probably similar to the feelings that kids in the normal American suburb get about supposedly haunted houses and that sort of thing. (The kinds of childhoods that they make so many movies about, which bear no resemblance to anything I ever experienced.) Of course, it's socially questionable to regard the people who are a little worse off than you as being the "forbidden" people on the other side of the tracks and that sort of thing. But I don't remember thinking about specific people as being the problem; it was just the consequences of the neighborhood: If you went there, you were putting yourself in danger. Bad things happen to people who go to that area. Though plenty of bad things happened to me right where I was living, but it was fun to think that the places down the street were even scarier, etc. (and also fun to sneak into the scary land once in a while).

Anyway, passing by the old Morris High School - which I'd been to a number of times long before I reached High School age - I couldn't help feeling nostalgic. And, even the other day, the building itself was still very impressive to me. It's a big, beautiful, castle-like building, and an official landmark, so it will never be torn down. Unfortunately, as my mother told me the other day, the school itself was just closed down recently. Supposedly, it had to be closed down because it couldn't meet the academic requirements being enforced these days by the City of New York. If the kids in a certain school can't collectively meet certain criteria, the school gets closed and the students get shipped somewhere else. That's a policy about which I have very mixed feelings, myself. But that's the topic for another post, somewhere down the road...