I think it will be interesting to see how the whole mess over Robert McCartney's death will play out. Because of it, Sinn Fein is being snubbed by both the White House and Ted Kennedy.
It's pretty much accepted as fact that the IRA is bankrolled by Americans, so it could throw a serious wrench into the cogs for them if Americans were to start associating Irish terrorism with, you know, terrorism.
Continuing the theme of talking about things about which I am not well-enough studied to feel that I am saying anything valid*, I will now talk about black America.
Last night I was listening to an interesting radio piece on Southern hip-hop, specifically the scenes of crunk and bounce (although, I should point out that the horn-based bed music they were using when talking about bounce was not bounce; it was, in fact, second-line jazz from Youngblood Brass Band**).
As a Bleeding-Heart Liberal member of the Global Media Conspiracy, of course, I live in total fear of being called a racist, so it is physically impossible for me to tell you that I think crunk is dull and uninventive -- my fingers would cramp up and my body would go into seizures. Obviously, I think crunk is great, even though not one of the 1,000+ CDs in my collection reflects this fact (to remedy this, I have added Ludacris*** to my wish list).
As I was listening to the program, though, I found myself thinking that it was like hearing about a music scene in another country -- the culture is so removed from my everyday understanding. Completely removed. I came to the painful realization this morning that not only do I not currently have any black friends, I don't even personally know any black people. It's rather disconcerting to suddenly think about what an isolated life I lead.
When I lived in Houston, I went to a junior high school that was predominantly black and Latino (and so were all my friends). I've probably mentioned before that when my family first moved to Minnesota I asked the people at school registration if the black kids registered on a different day because there were none to be seen. But these days I live a rather homogonous existence. I can't say I'm particularly pleased about that. I'm not sure what to do about it, though. How shallow would you have to be to seek out friends based on their ethnic makeup?
Good name for a band: Poop-Chute Cancer
This is pretty cool: You can learn the Welsh national anthem along with a gaggle of Welsh celebrities. Saying "celebrities" is a bit of a stretch -- I only recognized one of them -- but it's still a mildly nifty little program.
If Tony Blair wanted to lock in re-election he would make an announcement similar to this one.
*As those of you with some of that fancy college learnin' will have picked up from one of them logic of argument courses, a good way to spot that a person doesn't know what they are talking about is when they just throw everything out there, making several unsupported statements that don't connect. Bill O'Reilly does this a lot.
**The erstwhile sousaphone player of this band was in Las Vegas last week gigging with my best friend and his band.
***That's right, Black America, I plan to purchase (or have someone purchase for me) a Ludacris CD; I am one of you.