Odds and Sods - Skeptical edition

From Yellowdog Granny, who has all the funnies.



All sorts of busybodies weighing in about all sorts of heavy topics. Your humble narrator is terribly outclassed in trying to keep up... and in figuring out a decent opinion.

Amanda Marcotte worries that the atheists and skeptics are "mixing up" their respective social movements. (I didn't even know they were still separate, so that tells you how much I know.) In doing so, she doesn't miss a chance to use the "fairy belief" comparison. (sigh)

Really, can't yall come up with something else? As a lifelong scifi-fan, I resent the fantasy-fans' terms being privileged over mine... if you are going to insult me, please call me a believer in aliens and UFOs instead. Okay? Instead of "sky-fairy believer"--I insist upon FLYING SAUCER believer. In fact, you can use any term you like: Flying Saucers, UFOs, Area 51, Aliens, Extraterrestrials, Little Green Men/Women, be my guest. But seriously, fuck this fairy-obsession, you know?

Ah, but here we come to the heart of it... the Politics of the Insult. Are they willing to write off the UFOs, as they freely write off fairies and God? Since they claim they are all about rational evidence, certainly they will unquivocally announce that UFO-belief is all bullshit too? But few do. Hm, I wonder why?

Lots of atheists like sci-fi and consequently do believe in aliens, is the awful truth.

Not that they could prove aliens exist; they simply enjoying thinking they do. It's a matter of faith. It's FUN. Just like fairies and St Francis are enjoyable and fun, right? But their fun and our fun isn't comparable. They are lots smarter than us, so their fun is allowed under the rules of rationality, while ours is dangerous and must be abolished... right along with those innocent fairies, who last time I looked, didn't do anything to anybody. Rationality uber alles.

Amanda doesn't like it that Skepticblog actually thought Christians (fairy believers) should participate (!) in a famous Skeptics panel.

She wants to trash people, but you know, not when they are actually sitting right there in front of her.

~*~

Before I get accused of being all mean to Amanda, I did very much enjoy what she wrote about the 20th anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind. And I find it fascinating that even though we are 20 years apart in age, I had the exact same emotional reaction to the Anarchist Cheerleaders that she did.

I tried to wrestle with the fact that 20 years has gone by since then, and I found myself thinking--

Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot

I tried to rewrite this for grunge, couldn't quite get there. This was the best I could come up with:

Don't let it be unsaid
That once there was a dread
of scary kids who took the plunge
into Grunge.

In any event, my sentiments are the same as Camelot.. and my hugs and kisses to you kidz out there who tried to resurrect the old faith. It was a nice moment, and you should be very proud and remember it fondly your whole lives.

~*~

Feministe has an endless thread about adoption as a feminist issue, that you must read. Although very long (374 comments as of this writing)-- it is amazingly heartfelt, as first mothers and adoptees and adoptive mothers and everyone else jumps in with their opinions, experience and knowledge. The thread includes excellent links and research, particularly about the feelings of mothers who give up babies for adoption. One commenter says the regret-percentage is as high as 96%, which surprised me... but not really.

Lots of talk on that thread about why people feel the necessity of having their own biological offspring, had me skipping all over the net, and eventually brought me to this scary story on Strollerderby: Sperm Donor Never Reported Fatal Illness: 24 Biological Children Could Be Affected Yow!

But why is that so surprising? You pay some guy for his sperm, which he'd just be wasting anyway, right? Easy money. Why wouldn't he lie to keep the easy money coming? Why would he kill the proverbial goose that lays the golden eggs?

When you pay money for the biological properties of reproduction, this is one of the things that can happen, as in any other retailing or merchandising: a lack of quality control.

As PT Barnum famously said, you pays your money and you takes your choice.

~*~

Warren Jeffs is guilty! Well, of course he is, but now it's official. How many of you DEAD AIR folks listened to the tape recordings of the 12 and 14 year-olds (Jeffs' "spiritual wives"), having the sordid FLDS "facts of life" explained to them? The sound of little-girls "amens" was freaky and alarming. And then, the silence on the (audio) tapes as he rapes them. He doesn't deny anything. The infant of the 14-year-old (now 15) was proven through DNA to be Jeffs' -- so the evidence for that was already a done deal.

The Prophet (as he is known) Warren Jeffs stood defiant at the end during closing arguments (he acted as his own lawyer after opening arguments) and was silent for the allotted 30 legal minutes of his closing. Instead, he stared at the jury, one by one. They stared back. (I knew then, dude, you are going down.) Finally, he announced in prophet-like tones, "I am at peace." (Honestly, my first thought was of the fictional character modeled on Jeffs, Harry Dean Stanton in Big Love, who would do something equally melodramatic and unexpected in a courtroom.)

Today, during sentencing, Jeffs walked out after reading a statement about his Prophethood:

Jeffs is the leader of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, which believes polygamy brings exaltation in heaven. Yesterday, he was convicted of sexually assaulting two girls, ages 12 and 15, whom he'd wed during what his sect considers "spiritual marriages."

Jeffs represented himself during the eight-day trial. Before the punishment phase began today, Jeffs asked to leave the courtroom, saying he objected to the proceedings against him. He also read a statement promising a "whirlwind of judgment" on the world if God's "humble servant" isn't set free.

District Judge Barbara Walther told Jeffs that he couldn't leave and continue to represent himself. She ordered two lawyers who had been standby counsel to represent him.

Jeffs could be sentenced to life in prison.

Yeeeuch.

Certainly, I understand where Amanda and James Randi and everybody else gets their skepticism, or atheism, or whatever they are calling it. This kind of thing is too disgusting for words.

But I am utterly confident that if there was no religion, the Warren Jeffs of the world would find another playground to exercise their disgusting desires, oppressing women and exploiting children.

I wish I were not so confident of that (sigh), but I am.

~*~

To celebrate the 20th anniversary of Nevermind, time for some grunge!

Biographical background: Some years ago, I decided to 'pick up' (as we say in recovery) a substance I had sworn off. You probably know which one it is. I had gone without it for 23 years... Twenty. Three. Years. Can you believe? But at the time, things were emotionally very rough... and I thought, you know, I will choose the most benign substance I can think of... and I will offer no excuses.

And I don't and I haven't.

And yes, I know the guy singing this is dead. I wish he'd chosen a more benign substance, too.

Alice in Chains - No Excuses



It's alright, there comes a time
Got no patience to search for peace of mind

Laying low, want to take it slow
No more hiding or disguising truths I've sold

~*~

Have a great weekend everybody!

American Electra by Susan Faludi

The funniest aspect of the mass internet-responses to Susan Faludi's much-discussed HARPER'S article, is that young women already run the joint. Therefore, when blogs like Feministing authoritatively announce:

We mulled over how to respond most effectively here at Feministing, and have decided to publish a week-long series of responses from a diversity of young voices in our community

Say whaat?

Um, isn't that who ALWAYS writes for Feministing? How is this any different from business-as-usual? They write as if this week-long special event is somehow different from the norm, and of course, it isn't, which is the hilarity.

In truth, "a diversity of YOUNG voices" (emphasis mine) is the typical demographic for ALL of the Big Feminist Blogs. The fact that a tiny middle-aged squawk over at HARPER'S (a magazine you have to BUY to read; it isn't online for everyone's perusal and I still haven't read the whole damn article) can create such a fuss, is telling.

I long ago unsubscribed to HARPER'S, after their Andrea Dworkin hit-piece, which I didn't like (see comments here). However, Susan Faludi commands widespread respect, even from young feminists. She is likely the primary reason for the overarching concern this time; even Amanda Marcotte, major Youthquaker, notes that she was eager to read Faludi's account. (For my part, I have been howling non-stop about ageism within feminism since my arrival in Feminist Blogdonia in 2007... nobody cares, and in fact, I am usually shown the door for bringing it up.)

What is immediately striking is how this mass counter-attack would not happen regarding any other form of discrimination, except (as we have seen numerous times) for fat. I very much doubt that if this was an account about racism in feminism by Alice Walker (and she did write one), the response would be, "to present a diversity of white voices in our community." (Or would it?)

Yes, it is the same.

Maybe worse, since Faludi outlines the incontrovertible facts: Second Wave feminism gave birth to the Third Wave, and this feud tends to imitate the elements of a mother-daughter fracas. Since that's what it is. Basically, many Third-wavers are spitting in their feminist foremother's faces. Faludi writes: "The contemporary women’s movement seems fated to fight a war on two fronts: alongside the battle of the sexes rages the battle of the ages."

Yep. (NOTE: Sorry I can't provide "a diversity of older voices" to reply along with me, but there are EXCEEDINGLY FEW of us online... and the Third-wavers have banished even those few, in favor of young folks talking endlessly about Lady Gaga. Thus, it is very difficult for us to even find each other.)

I still can't find the entire text of Faludi's piece, so if you can find one online, please link here. But here are some excerpts from what is currently posted:

Why does so much of “new” feminist activism and scholarship spurn the work and ideas of the generation that came before? As ungracious as these attitudes may seem, they are grounded in a sad reality: while American feminism has long, and productively, concentrated on getting men to give women some of the power they used to give only to their sons, it hasn’t figured out how to pass power down from woman to woman, to bequeath authority to its progeny.

...

I’ve been to a feminist “mother-daughter dinner party” where the feel-good bonding degenerated into a cross fire of complaint and recrimination, with younger women declaring themselves sick to death of hearing about the glory days of Seventies feminism and older women declaring themselves sick to death of being swept into the dustbin of history. I’ve been to a feminist conclave convened to discuss the intergenerational question where no young women were invited. After the group spent hours bemoaning the younger generation’s putative preference for a sexed-up “girly girl” liberation, one participant suggested asking an actual young woman to the next meeting—and was promptly shot down. I’ve delivered speeches on the state of women’s rights to college audiences whose follow-up comments concerned mostly the liberating potential of miniskirts and stripping, their elders’ cluelessness about sex and fashion, and the need to distance themselves from an older, “stodgy” feminism.

Gee, she sighed, I wonder why no young women were invited? (I can't imagine.)

Interestingly, Faludi uses the word "handicapped"--the type of old-fashioned term that makes young women (and me too, and I am older than Faludi) wince. (I wonder how often our language-choices 'mark' us as older, online?) She writes at length about the stylistic differences in Second and Third Wave feminists, and I suddenly remember my recent post in which I exhorted women to sass back to fatophobic doctors, advice that came almost verbatim from early issues of Ms. magazine, as well as Our Bodies Our Selves. I was lambasted for expressing disgust that women so often act like victims, instead of paying customers, which we are. This is the kind of thing that got me lauded (as a writer) in the 70s, but now, I get excoriated for saying the exact same things.

How radically have our sensibilities changed, that what I say can be taken (by my generation) as a praiseworthy goal, but by the young women as somehow insulting?

Faludi writes about the recent NOW [National Organization for Women] presidential election:

The candidate who seemed to be in the lead was thirty-three-year-old Latifa Lyles, a charismatic speaker attuned to a youthful sensibility, a black woman who insisted on a more diverse constituency, a technologically savvy strategist who had doubled the organization’s Internet fund-raising and engaged the enthusiasm of a host of feminist bloggers. A feminist activist since she was sixteen—when she told her mother she was going on a “school trip” and ran off to the 1992 reproductive-rights demonstration in Washington, D.C.—Lyles had worked her way up the ranks in NOW, from chapter leader to national board member to youngest-ever national officer. She had spent the last four years as national vice president for membership under [Kim] Gandy, who championed Lyles as her successor. “It’s hard to ignore the fact there’s been a generational shift in this country, and an organization that doesn’t recognize that is living in the past,” Gandy declared. “Latifa’s youth is not a detriment but an advantage. She’ll take NOW to a different level.”

“I never paid attention to a NOW election in my life until I knew Latifa was running,” Jessica Valenti, the founder of Feministing.com, a leading young feminist website, told the Associated Press. “This could be the moment where NOW becomes super-relevant to the feminist movement again.”

What kind of Major American Feminist isn't paying attention to the NOW election? I had no idea you could be a Big Feminist Blogger and Big Feminist Author and not care about NOW. (shows what I know)

If anyone wants to know what's wrong with modern feminism, doesn't that sum the whole thing up in a nutshell? The young women don't give a shit about NOW, unless the prez is a young hipster like themselves. Can we be forgiven for thinking they might not be too serious?

The preoccupations of the younger side of the generational divide were on rampant display the next afternoon at the young feminist workshop, which included tips on how to recruit other young women (do not use the NOW logo when advertising your event) and a prep session on Twitter marketing, led by a young woman in stiletto heels—along with tirades on the transgressions of NOW’s elders, people “so grumpy and crotchety that as a young woman, you come into that meeting, you’re like, ‘I’m never coming back here.’ ” “Many a time I’d hear, ‘Oh, why are you wearing high heels? We fought for so long not to have you wear those high heels!’ ” “I’ve been in meetings where Seventies-ish women say to me, ‘Oh, we’re so glad to have some young blood!’ It’s creepy, and we don’t like it.”

Do not use the NOW logo?!?

(They won't use the NOW logo, but I betcha they DO take those extra salaries, birth control pills and legal abortions that NOW secured for them.)

Lord have mercy, what a lousy state of affairs this is.

One young feminist I respect a great deal, because I know she heartily works for the Forces of Good, is Natalia Antonova, who wrote:

Inter-generational conflict always exists, and it affects way more than simply mainstream American feminism. Faludi’s assertion though that there is a “nightmare of dysfunction” within American feminism is, well… funny. For me, “nightmare” relates more to systemic exclusion of trans people. Or, say, how the concerns of those who are not middle-class and don’t get invited to sit on panels can easily get lost in the shuffle. Is that too much theory, perhaps? Theory, of course, is another thing that Faludi says that younger feminists are too preoccupied with.

Indeed, I have to say that bringing THEORY into the mix is something I genuinely appreciate about the youngsters. Recently, when I commented on another blog that [Bourgeois Feminist] didn't speak for me as a working class woman ... well, they heard me. They got it. I admit, older feminists often didn't, and still don't. They still don't understand why we all didn't vote for Hillary.

So maybe I wouldn't like the whole article, even as I enjoy the relatively cheap shots that I have quoted here. Maybe I'll even get to read it one of these days.

In the meantime, I am very pleased with my own daughter, as Jessica Valenti is proud of her own mother. Maybe that is key. Generalizations are one thing, and I can relate to them. But how do we really feel?

I am personally proud of young feminists when they stand up to patriarchy (pardon old-fogie terminology) and pave their own way... and that will never change.

Can you imagine how *I* feel about it, Dmitri?

You know how we've always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the Bomb? The Bomb, Dmitri... The hydrogen bomb!... Well now, what happened is... ahm... one of our base commanders, he had a sort of... well, he went a little funny in the head... you know... just a little... funny. And, ah... he went and did a silly thing... Well, I'll tell you what he did. He ordered his planes... to attack your country... Ah... Well, let me finish, Dmitri... Let me finish, Dmitri... Well listen, how do you think I feel about it?... Can you imagine how I feel about it, Dmitri?... Why do you think I'm calling you? Just to say hello?... Of course I like to speak to you!... Of course I like to say hello!... Not now, but anytime, Dmitri. I'm just calling up to tell you something terrible has happened... It's a friendly call. Of course it's a friendly call... Listen, if it wasn't friendly... you probably wouldn't have even got it... They will not reach their targets for at least another hour... I am... I am positive, Dmitri... Listen, I've been all over this with your ambassador. It is not a trick... Well, I'll tell you. We'd like to give your air staff a complete run-down on the targets, the flight plans, and the defensive systems of the planes... Yes! I mean i-i-i-if we're unable to recall the planes, then... I'd say that, ah... well, ah... we're just gonna have to help you destroy them, Dmitri... I know they're our boys... All right, well listen now. Who should we call?... Who should we call, Dmitri? The... wha-whe, the People... you, sorry, you faded away there... The People's Central Air Defense Headquarters... Where is that, Dmitri?... In Omsk... Right... Yes... Oh, you'll call them first, will you?... Uh-huh... Listen, do you happen to have the phone number on you, Dmitri?... Whe-ah, what? I see, just ask for Omsk information... Ah-ah-eh-uhm-hm... I'm sorry, too, Dmitri... I'm very sorry... All right, you're sorrier than I am, but I am as sorry as well... I am as sorry as you are, Dmitri! Don't say that you're more sorry than I am, because I'm capable of being just as sorry as you are... So we're both sorry, all right?... All right.

~*~

Don't miss Dr Strangelove on Turner Classic Movies tonight. (Above dialogue by Terry Southern, whom I coincidentally mentioned here at DEAD AIR a few days ago.)

In Stanley Kubrick's now-classic anti-war film, the amazing Peter Sellers plays three different roles (with three different accents). He was so great, lots of people who never check movie credits do not even realize the three roles are played by same person. (Captain Mandrake, President Merkin Muffley, Dr Strangelove) Many British actors find it nearly impossible to deliver a realistic-sounding flat-US-Midwestern accent (by contrast, southern accents are "fun" to do), but Sellers could do anything. His placid President is just perfect.

Slim Pickens, Sterling Hayden and George C. Scott are also terrific. The movie largely defies description, and every peacenik should see it multiple times! (And everyone else too, of course.)

~*~

I am still deliberating over last week's election (Dr Strangelove is perfect accompaniment), and sorting through all the post-mortems, teeth-gnashing and hand-wringing.

Some links I found especially pertinent and interesting:

Terrance at Republic of T has an in-depth four-part series titled The GOP’s Pyrrhic Victory: Why It Won’t Work. (I certainly hope he's right!) Read em all!

Check out Glenn Greenwald's The self-absorption of America's ruling class. And as Greenwald notes (see link), my Senator (and not the one you expect!) is now itching to start a war with Iran. (Saints preserve us.)

By way of fabulous Onyx Lynx (blows kisses!), I found Glenn W. Smith's post, rationally titled Why the Fear and Loathing? Excellent question.

Amanda Marcotte spins the election for the Guardian and I am not convinced. She seems to think the conservative Tea Party women did not do so well... apparently she hasn't visited South Carolina lately. If you had informed me even two years ago, that South Carolina would have a Woman of Color as governor in my lifetime? I'd have laughed at you.

This IS a sea change in politics, and the more liberals try to deny this, the longer the Tea Party will reign.

WAKE UP EVERYBODY, no more sleeping in bed.

MetaFilter and Amandagate

Left: from Patrick Farley's The Guy I Almost Was. (This one goes out to the MetaFilter gang!)

~*~

I am currently catatonic over the number of hits I'm getting. I always wanted a lot of hits, so I guess it's one of those "be careful what you wish for" scenarios.

I suppose it's like those fresh-faced kids who've been singing for the church congregation all their lives, then find themselves in front of Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell. Paula applauds, tells you how fabulous you are, pops a Vicodin, while Simon sneers: "You don't reeeeeeeeeeally know how to siiiiiiing, doooooo you?"

Crestfallen person: sobs.

Yes, that was me yesterday. Although it's nice to get over 6500 hits (!!!) in one day, I would have preferred a few more Paulas, and take as many drugs as you need to get into that space, I'll wait. Several blogs that have linked me have contained far too many Simons, sneering, weeeeeellll, her writing is (insert William F Buckley eyebrow-arch here) rather ped-EST-rian, and rawther BAAAAAAAD. And I've sent my secretary to research the story, and she'll be back after lunch with the name of the Saturday Night Live character, so HOPE YOU AREN'T FIBBING, missy!

To the Simons in my new readership, whom Amanda Marcotte (more about which in due course!) would call "joy-killers":

1) Saturday Night Live goes back to 1975, and yes, I ALSO go back that far, as well. I do not refer to the last two years, when you kids were in the dorm, but you know, I refer to THE WHOLE HISTORY OF THE SHOW... knock yourself out!

Apparently there have been numerous Shaniquas and Laquitas and various other names on the show. This tells us the black-named-hooker/crackhead joke is ongoing and simply gets updated with a new name every year. Just like Saturday Night Live in its entirety!

2) For those of you born last week, who dare to say such intelligent things as "I can't believe that happened in a classroom! That could NEVER happen!"--please understand that I am talking about 1964 or 65, you know, the year they passed the Civil Rights Act? You've heard of it, yes? You realize they had to pass that FOR A REASON? What did you think the atmosphere was for black people before that? Yes, I heard the n-word in school, even spoken by a teacher on one occasion. The word was not DIRTY then, it was considered an almost mischievous, cute thing to say. I do not expect you to understand what it was like for people born in 1957; at least get a clue that it won't be comparable to your life, born in 1987, okay? Good God in heaven.

Is it the schools?

3) If you think I am a bad writer, or stupid, then FUCK OFF.

Apparently, it costs a whole week of waiting and a $5 tip to post on MetaFilter. You may say I'm an asshat and an idiot, but I don't pay $5 to post a damn thing and you do, so who's the idiot? :P

To those of you who were sweet, thank you. They made me cry yesterday. :(

4) To the extremely persistent people who keep emailing me for my name: It is not forthcoming.

~*~

Left: illustration from Amanda Marcotte's It’s a Jungle Out There: The Feminist Survival Guide to Politically Inhospitable Environments.

And now, back to important stuff, like War in Feminist Blogdonia. Twisty calls it Amandagate, and I guess that's as good a name as any.

For my new readers, I'll recap. It's just like LOST and BATTLESTAR GALACTICA--if you miss any of it, you get damned confused.

Background, some months previous: Amanda Marcotte, important feminist blogger and famous Victim of William Donahue and Michelle Malkin (i.e.: people have respect for what she has endured at the hands of the right wingnuts), writes a book scheduled to be published by Seal Press. The cover is eventually shown on Amanda's blog PANDAGON (not linking, sorry Amanda). The cover illustration is comic-strip-type retro art featuring a King Kong-type-character kidnapping a beautiful cartoon-blond woman. Women of color say, you know, that is an insensitive, racist stereotype, and you might want to change it. Amanda hyperventilates, screams, calls the critics "joy killers."

After the controversy, the cover is changed to the current cover.

Next: Feminists of Color at the WAM conference are pissed off at Seal Press over their treatment of a WOC author. Black Amazon dares to say "FUCK SEAL PRESS" (in capital letters, no less) on her blog, which brings the Seal Press flunkies a-runnin over to chastise her. Then the flunkies take it to the Seal Press blog, and receive a shitload of comments criticizing their rude behavior (i.e. coming onto someone's blog and patronizing them, particularly with NO introduction or previous history of interaction).

Seal Press deletes the entire thread.

Amanda posts her famous Alter-Net piece, which does not acknowledge a very popular and cherished WOC blogger, Brownfemipower (known as BFP), who has been covering the same issues Amanda is writing about. For years. At least one of the immigration cases covered in the post is one that BFP pointedly mentioned at the WAM conference.

Amanda, called out publicly, proves that she wrote the piece before the conference, as various other bloggers back her up. Many people, including your humble narrator, point out that appropriation is one of those tricky, even unconscious things (which I also touched on in my "black name" post; people often believe they have invented things that they likely have heard previously). Amanda freely admits she regularly reads BFP and even mentions BFP's blog in her book. Yet, she does not say "Wow, okay, here's a link to BFP, sorry about that!"--which would have been plenty sufficient to avoid more trouble. Instead, she digs her heels in and says she was IN NO WAY inspired by BFP and goes on the counterattack. For many folks, the nastiness and cluelessness of the counterattack are far more disturbing than the Alter-Net issue itself. Amanda accuses people of being jealous, trying to ruin her career, etc etc.

And along the way, Brownfemipower deletes her entire blog, causing great sadness throughout Blogdonia.

Latest update, Amanda is on the book tour.

Apparently, Seal Press saw fit to change the cover art, but FORGOT ALL ABOUT THE INSIDE ART, which features (see picture above) the same blond cartoon lady, set upon by evil dark natives.

Ohhhhh, dear God. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.*

And so, that's where we are right now. Some of Amanda's defenders, it would appear, are left with their thumbs up their asses, as we say here in the south. Or as my endodontist likes to say, it doesn't look good.

When you've got all of this, who needs COURT TV? Stay tuned, fight fans.

*For the kids: this was the famous tagline for JAWS II, useful in many situations.

Borrowing and appropriating

Left: The CREEM magazine logo, which I loved and have been waiting for an excuse to use on my blog!



The newest scuffle in Blogdonia concerns Big Blogger Amanda Marcotte liberally ummm, borrowing from another blogger, notably a Woman of Color. And blogging about issues she usually doesn't know much about, that Brownfemipower has been blogging about since day one and in fact, presented in a recent speech (about feminism and immigration) at the Women, Action and Media conference. It's Led Zeppelin all over again!!!

Background: As a fresh-faced hippie tyke, I wrote record reviews for underground/alternative publications nobody remembers. (The most famous of these would be CREEM, where I only got three paragraphs.) Lots of these were leftist publications such as Detroit's RED TIDE and New York City's OVERTHROW. Imagine my shock when hard-core lefties jumped me over my blues-ignorance. Didn't I know that Led Zeppelin, Spooky Tooth (does ANYONE remember Spooky Tooth?), Humble Pie, Paul Butterfield, Mike Bloomfield, Cream, John Mayall, Eric Clapton, et. al. were doing OLD BLUES MUSIC, written and first performed by southern black delta folk?

My reaction: Huh?

And in fairness, this was the 70s, way before the internet. Nowadays, one could simply type in PAUL BUTTERFIELD BLUES BAND and learn all you needed to know about the early influences of these bands. But at the time, I actually had to study and go to the library. I felt like a fool; these were bands and musicians I idolized, and I didn't know squat about the actual roots of the music they were playing. Yet, I felt qualified to opine about the quality and the musicianship of their records. And I was published, too, as countless other clueless white rock critics were.

Paul Butterfield went to Woodstock and appeared in the subsequent hit movie. Albert King did not.

I am pleased to report that I learned from my study. I am one of the few people who have heard the original recording of When the Levee Breaks by Kansas Joe McCoy and Memphis Minnie. And you know what? I prefer LZ's. But I always refer to it as "the Led Zeppelin remake of the Memphis Minnie/Joe McCoy recording"--I never refer to it as a Led Zeppelin song. Ditto Whole Lotta Love--a morph of Willie Dixon's You need love.

Of course, they aren't exact replicas. Zeppelin was trying something novel--a sort of psychedelic bombastic blues. They succeeded, but they also 'forgot' to put the names of the original authors of the songs on their work, and that's why they ended up in court. The operative term is BLUES, which was invented by a certain group of people in a certain cultural moment and location. Yes, you get credit for the psychedelic bombast, but the blues came from someone else. (As much as you have, can't you give credit where it is due without going to freakin COURT????)

Unfortunately, we now have Amanda, doing what I would call a Led Zeppelin: What, me, worry? And let me make it very clear: I love Led Zeppelin. I refer to a whole process of cultural and racial appropriation, and how deep and insidious it is. As white people, we ARE largely unconscious of it, at first. That is how people like Amanda get by with the innocent routine, just like me at RED TIDE and Jimmy Page in court: Huh?

Hopefully, that time has passed. Huh don't cut it anymore. Huh is extremely fucked up. You have the ease, comfort and availability of the internet; you don't have to traipse across town to the library or earnestly trek to the local blues-hound's apartment and beg for copies of tapes, the way I did, and for that matter, the way Jimmy Page did. IT'S ALL RIGHT THERE AT YOUR FINGERTIPS.

And giving credit, too, is just as easy. You might try it.