Trumpocalypse Now

Peacocks in the Heart of Darkness

“Everyday it's another world and every change of tomorrow
Hungover and hungry to fix it, a miracle cure for my sorrow”

— Guided By Voices, “Half-Smiles of the Decomposed” (2004)

At 44, I still listen to rock music.

Yesterday, alongside my brother and his betrothed, I went to a fancy mid-century modern furniture and art collection store.

Among the many beautiful artifacts on display for home-enhancing purchase was a good turntable and proper amplifier and speaker system blasting jazz.

I still listen to jazz, too.

Once, when I was 19, I went to “Europe.” Specifically, I visited the countries of Belgium, England, France, Italy, and Spain.

Whilst in the city of Paris, I spied (from a distance) “My Lady.” The real Mona Lisa.

Tourists were at it with cameras like flies on the Ambrosia Salad at a picnic in Iowa.

I’d’ve liked to have looked at that painting, but at 19 I was too punk-rock to care about checking the requisite ticket square.

Now, at 44, I’d like to see the half-smile.

We did see some Da Vinci stuff. At another museum, I had the opp to purvey a host of his pencil sketches.

I felt I got the idea of the mind of that man. I say that non-ironically.

Now, I’d love to see them again. Non-ironically, I’d like to spend more time asking questions like “who are the figures?” “Why is he studying this?” “What is his motive?” “Is there Genius here?”

Robert Pollard, of Guided By Voices, asks these kinds of questions.

This year (almost last), he released “Strut of Kings,” in which he declares both ironically and non-ironically (consider “Trump”):

“Olympus cock in Radiana
Struts the strut of kings
His brilliant plumage
Shining the rock
Leading the flock
To a far more promising peace”

— Guided by Voices, “Olympus Cock in Radiana” (2024)

It’s a call-out on bullshit. But it’s also an admiration of the beautiful plumage of the Peacock, a bird NBC has used as a logo, and my dad, my step-mom, and my great-grandparents Vi and Chick both raised as garden pets.

Stop blaming the Boomers. Gen X is really the generation to blame.

We’re the ones who, like Patti Smith, delighted in the pseudo-ruins.

Here’s some Pavement:

“Every time I sit around, I find I'm shot”
Every time I sit around, I find I'm shot
Every time I turn around, my friend
Every time I sit around, my friend
Every time, every time, every time, every time
Every time, every time, every time” (1992)

and some Kathleen Hanna a la Le Tigre:

“I take you home, now watch me get you hot
You're just a parrot when you're screaming
And your shouting
"More crackers, please, more crackers, please"
You want what you want but you don't wanna be on your knees
Who does your, who does your hair?

Who took the Bomp from the Bompalompalomp?
Who took the Ram from the Ramalamadingdong?
Who took the Bomp from the Bompalompalomp?
Who took the Ram from the Ramalamadingdong?
How are you?
Fine, thank you
How are you?
Fine, thank you (1999)

It’s a new morning, America. Let’s all of us get up and Rise to the Occasion. We’ve got a “literal” shit-ton of Work to Do.

Ambitiously,

Aaron