The Weekly Meat

The Sound of Change

It's that time once again, where we get our vote on — and hopefully change the downward direction of this country. So let's do it. Early and often, and with songs of change playing loud.

In compiling a solid playlist, we'll need tunes from the following tried and true political musical genres:

The Man:

Sex Pistols — "God Save the Queen"

God bless the Sex Pistols. You can just about hear the spit and bile coming from Johnny Rotten's maw.

God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming

Five Man Electrical Band — "Signs"

Sure, I could substitute Gil-Scott Heron's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised," (which I do most definitely dig, brother) but it would be too predictable in that self-consciously hip sort of way. So I'll roll with a tune I used to love back when I was pissed off that I'd surely been born in the wrong decade — namely, this one-hit wonder's fantastic anti-ode to The Man.

And the sign said, "Long haired freaky people need not apply"
So I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why
He said, "You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you'll do"
So I took off my hat, I said, "Imagine that- huh- me working for you..."

Billy Bragg — "It Says Here"

There are loads of other Billy Bragg songs to pick from, but I'm a big fan of this bare-bones critique of the press. The simplicity of the voice, electric guitar, and the message rocks.

Those braying voices on the right of the House
Are echoed down the Street of Shame
Where politics mix with bingo and tits
In a strictly money and numbers game
Where they offer you a feature on stockings and suspenders
Next to a call for stiffer penalties for sex offenders

Civil Rights:

Marvin Gaye — "Inner City Blues"

Make me wanna holler I wish Marvin was still hollering. The message never sounded so soulful.

Crime is increasing
Trigger happy policing
Panic is spreading
God know where we're heading
Oh, make me wanna holler
They don't understand

Sly and the Family Stone — "Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey"

The name says it all. It took all of Sly and company's interracial funk kung fu to pull off these straightforward, confrontational lyrics (not to mention that wah-wah pedal) in this 1969 classic that surely made Richard Pryor proud.

Well I was down, across the country
And I heard two voices ring
They were talkin' angry to each other
And neither other could change a thing
Don't call me "nigger," whitey
Don't call me "whitey," nigger...

Public Enemy — "Fight the Power"

This tune plays like a Greek chorus (and to excellent effect) in Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing. Chuck D has the strongest and most authoritative voice in rap.

Elvis was a hero to most
But he never meant shit to me, you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Motheruck him and John Wayne
Cause I'm Black and I'm proud
I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps

War:

Stiff Little Fingers — "Wasted Life"

I first heard this song on an old mix tape. It got cut off after about a minute, but that minute of raw power introduced me to SLF and their outstanding brand of Belfast punk, and made me run out to buy the album.

I could be a soldier
Go out there and fight to save this land
Be a people's soldier
Paramilitary gun in hand
I won't be a soldier
I won't take no orders from no-one
Stuff their fucking armies
Killing isn't my idea of fun

U2 — "Sunday Bloody Sunday"

Another classic against The Troubles in Northern Ireland and about the Derry incident in particular.

Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn across the dead end street
But I wont heed the battle call
It puts my back up
Puts my back up against the wall

Bob Dylan — "Masters of War"

While most of these songs of protest type lists cite "Blowin' in the Wind," it's not anywhere close to my top 25 Dylan tunes. So for my money, I'll take one that is.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

The Cult of Personality:

The Ramones — "My Brain is Hanging Upside Down (Bonzo Goes to Bitburg)"

Boy, that early-'80s 1–2 punch of Reagan and Thatcher did nearly as much to inspire great music as bad relationships. About Reagan's ill-advised 1985 trip to Bitburg cemetery — where several dozen SS troops are buried — this isn't the most rocking Ramones' tune, but it's arguably the one with the most soul driving it.

Shaking hands with your highness
See through you like cellophane
You watch the world complain, but you do it anyway
Who am I, am I to say...
Bonzo goes to Bitburg, then goes out for a cup of tea...

Dead Kennedys — "California Über Alles"

Great song despite the fact that the lyrics are a bit flawed, message-wise. Still, a campy, witty, anarchic, fantastic look at unchecked power from the far left.

I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles
And never frowns
Soon I will be president...
Carter Power will soon go away
I will be Fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school...

Eminem — "Mosh"

A bit of an odd pick for me. I'm not a huge fan of Eminem, but this is a particularly excellent rant against Bush the younger. I remember well when this video came out before the 2004 elections, and it looks as good and has as much power now as it did then.

Let the president answer a higher anarchy
Strap him with an AK-47, let him go, fight his own war
Let him impress daddy that way
No more blood for oil, we got our own battles to fight on our own soil
No more psychological warfare, to trick us to thinking that we ain't loyal
If we don't serve our own country, we're patronizing a hero
Look in his eyes its all lies
The stars and stripes, they've been swiped, washed out and wiped
And replaced with his own face....

Alright, which other tunes have I missed? Think on it while you listen.

Billy Bragg — It Says Here
Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey — Sly & the Family Stone
Wasted Life — Stiff Little Fingers
Mosh — Eminem

Underdogs

I was born with a chip on my shoulder and a nose for the disenfranchised. It wasn't enough that I was Jewish. I also wanted to be Italian and black.

I'm from Philly. And if, while I was growing up, Chicago or LA was the "Second City," Philly was the fourth or fifth. We — like my current home of Boston — were a city of also-rans and underdogs. (At least Boston was until the local sports teams stahted getting wicked-good.)

In any case, I had a love for hockey — a fairly minor sport in the U.S. at the time, compared to the majors of baseball and football and basketball — and my hero was an average-sized diabetic guy named Bobby Clarke from the hardscrabble mining town of Flin Flon, Manitoba.

Clarkie captained the Flyers for seven seasons, and was an incredibly effective leader and fan favorite during his tenure — because we (as did his teammates) relate to the underdog, we speak their language, know their pain, and respect their struggle. And because an underdog works their ass off, they generally have our empathy and our support.

But this week's focus is not hockey. It's this: It's not a bad thing that the U.S. has fallen from our geopolitical (somewhat self-proclaimed) designation of alpha dog.

We've been at or near the top for a long time, in terms of GDP, education, quality exports, military might, international standing, etc. But for a variety of reasons, not least to do with our so-called leadership, we have lost our footing and stumbled badly. Here's the good news: It's precisely what we need. Because it's not just our stock market that needs to recalibrate itself, it's our whole country. And it's not just our leadership that's lacking, it's us.

The solution is about more than simply choking down some humble pie. It's about regaining the hunger, the work ethic, and the original ideas that once fueled the American Dream — and yes, the humility borne of eating bread sandwiches and beans for a while.

We have all gotten so fat and lazy — soft, both physically and mentally. We feel a sense of entitlement disproportional to our drive and our abilities. We have forgotten how to produce quality goods, and how to manage nearly anything effectively — particularly ourselves. We are needy without being giving and charitable, vehement without being right, self-righteous without being ethical. And we seem to think this is all our birthright.

As a nation, we strive to export democracy as if a global manifest destiny. We start wars we cannot win, fight them from afar, and leave them unfinished. Arguably, the last time we got ourselves out of a military action cleanly and on top was World War II. (And to achieve that, we caused the greatest humanitarian crisis the world has ever seen.)

To be sure, the U.S. is still a force to be reckoned with. But all is not as easy as, say, strapping on a flight suit and claiming "Mission Accomplished" anymore. I use a military reference, but our troubles have spread to all aspects of the new world order in which we find ourselves.

At the office, I joke that I have no desire to be a top-level executive in our company; rather I want to be an ex–top-level executive. Because when they go (as they have just last week, in fact), they leave with outsized, golden parachutes. And the suits get these obscenely generous parting gifts whether they have done a good job or not. Because in the U.S., once you attain a certain level on the ziggurat, there is no longer any accountability. Film directors get final cut, because who needs editors? Banks that have recently been bailed out are not actually required to put that money back into our failing economy, because why would Congress ever deign to stipulate that banks not simply hoard our tax dollars? And the Executive branch of government attempts to expand its powers at every turn, because who needs to be checked and balanced by the pesky Legislature and the Judiciary?

On the world stage, we do much the same — presuming our place high up the ziggurat, and with it, presuming that we need not be accountable. We try war crimes in The Hague, but not at home; invoke the Geneva Conventions when it's convenient. We press for free and fair elections elsewhere, but can barely hold them here.

We have certainly been mismanaged at both the national and international level, but it's a mistake to fault only those at the top. Yes, for example, our big banks may have sold millions of bad mortgages, but we're the ones who have been foolishly signing those notes, stretching us beyond our means. We celebrate the ordinary and elect Joe and Judy Sixpacks to high office, then turn an apathetic cheek to their folksy incompetence. (I've written about just this national acceptance of mediocrity before, but the horse is not yet dead, and it needs beating.)

There is a perfect global economic shit-storm brewing, and our impending election of a new president will play a key role in how and when and if we find our way out of the muck. But there are 300 million of us in these United States, and the turnaround of our country depends as much on us as it does on Barack Obama or John McCain. Indeed, our next president must help to restore our standing and our credibility in the world. But we will be the key to the new economy, and how we respond to adversity will determine how we will live. And it can only help in the long run that we see ourselves not as big dogs, but as underdogs.

Separated at Birth?

Sometimes the resemblance is just uncanny...

Jacoby Ellsbury Young Red Sox phenom	Julianna Margulies Actress
Nick Fotiu Legendary hockey tough guy and TWM all-ugly member	Javier Bardem Cold-blooded film killer

Ed Snider Hearts Sarah Palin

I know I said I'd cool it on the politics for awhile, but then someone makes a decision to mess directly with my first love. And so:

In the 40 years my family has held Philadelphia Flyers’ season tickets, I can only once remember politics entering the arena of play. That was January 11, 1976, when the Soviet Red Army team came to town, and my mom and I and 17,000 of our friends went down to the Spectrum to collectively say, “Not in our country. And certainly not in our house.” It was the Cold War; we were united that day. The Flyers won the game, and with it, the respect of the league.

Now they risk losing the same, as Flyers’ owner Ed Snider waves a bright red flag of another kind, invoking politics in our house and inviting Republican VP nominee and “hockey mom” Sarah Palin to drop the puck at Saturday’s Flyers-Rangers tilt — bringing public scorn and ridicule to what is otherwise one of the classiest organizations in all of sport.

Shame on you, Mr. Snider. Your childish, bald-faced pandering during this bitterly divisive election may play well to your Republican base, but it will not to that of your Flyers.

We’ve seen the pictures of you palling around with Governor Palin during her last Philly visit, and that’s fine. We don’t begrudge you or any other public figure their political beliefs. But do not shove them down our throat.

Admittedly, I happen to disagree pretty strongly with Sarah Palin's political views. But this is not a question of partisanship, it is about you horning politics of any shade into our world of leisure and escape — a privilege, by the way, for which we pay you handsomely. Not only through ticket sales, but through our Comcast premiums.

Forty years ago, I was born into the Flyers community, and into a love for hockey that continues to this day. Flyers’ games, and the Spectrum in particular, were arguably the spiritual temple of my youth — and like the globally respected notion that war must not enter places of worship, we fans should be able to check our politics at the arena door.

I won't be at the game on Saturday, but my folks will. They won’t boo, because they'd argue that Governor Palin doesn’t deserve name calling and the sort of spleen that my family generally reserves for, say, the Rangers. Their 20,000 friends, of course, will be another story.

So there you have it, Ed. You want to trot out your show pony to start off the season? May you both reap all that you have sown.

Why Life Should Be More Like Hockey

The NHL started up play again this week, so I, and millions like me, now have a distraction from the media onslaught (yes, in my small way, I'm part of the problem) surrounding our national division decision. And thank god.

One-time Philadelphia Flyers coach Fred Shero best explained the Life-Hockey relationship when he said, "Hockey is where we live, where we can best meet and overcome pain and wrong and death. Life is just a place where we spend time between games." Freddy the Fog was right about a lot of things, and he had this one right too. For those of us who live in The Game, here is why we wish this admittedly difficult business of "life" could be more like hockey.

In hockey:

• Grownups, not just kids, are encouraged to take naps.
• There's no crying over minor injuries. Or even major ones. When you get hit in the mouth, you spit out a tooth and move on.
• Salaries are good for the average Joe, but not disproportionally obscene for the superstars.
• You fight it out with someone over mild disagreements, then shake hands afterward and not hold grudges. There's no hair pulling or tantrums, just "You wanna go?"
• Heavyweights fight heavyweights, middleweights fight middleweights, goalies fight goalies. There are few mismatches. No Hutus versus Tutsis. No Russia versus Georgia. No US versus long-embargoed nations. No John Wensink versus the entire Minnesota North Stars bench. Break the code and you get sat on. End of story.
• There are set rules, with ample referees and linesmen on hand to discuss disputes and ensure fair play.
• Hard work pays off.
• There's accountability. Continued incompetence doesn't get you a raise, or another four years in office.

Hockey's simple. It's not easy, but it is simple. Would that we could say the same of everyday life. Or even this goddamn election.

Bipartisan Bingo: VP Debate Edition

Be sure to print out your set of VP debate edition bipartisan bingo cards, folks.