TRIBAL WAR! Mykel Board's Post-MRR Column 10

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

MYKEL BOARD'S POST MRR COLUMNS

POST MRR COLUMN NO. 10

by Mykel Board

The leftist ideologue, like the Christian bible thumper, is entirely evangelical-- she will not be satisfied until everyone who doesn't think like she does is either converted or jailed under hate crime legislation. – Jim Goad

The trouble with being a leftist-- or a rightist-- is that you soon discover so many people “on your side” are complete assholes. --Mykel Board

Fuck! I'm gonna die! I sit a the computer, typing these words. My stomach is killing me. Last night... a visit to Todd's Mill, a new bar in town. Now my body now seeks revenge... in spades. The even browner brown ale makes its way through my large intestine. I trace the path. I'm not even sure I'll be able to finish this sen.... Hang on!

Holy shit! That was great! I needed it.... and I shat an L-shaped turd! How is that possible? A turd cannot make a sudden turn? Look at it. Squeeze a tube of toothpaste. It may not squirt in a perfectly straight line, but a right angle? It defies logic. Can't happen! But there it is... in the toilet. A turd... from my own body... at right angles to itself. Plain as the stain on my fingertips. I flush before I think to take a picture (a selfie?). You'll just have to believe me... but how did it happen?

Flash to the 1980s: I write a column about the Toronto Anarchist Convention. At that convention, I'm annoyed by, among other things, a workshop called: Creating Spaces: for women only. How can you have an anarchist space “for women only?” It defies logic. Can't happen!

I scribble in a blank calendar spot: KLANARCHY: for whites only. In half an hour, my scribbling is x-ed off. In an hour, the whole calendar is down. My protest disappears like an L-shaped turd.

Flash to this year May: I've written elsewhere about an Oakland Anarchist bookfair. The editor of Anarchy Magazine calls for a burning of the churches. Okay, he's an anarchist. That's what they do.

“What about black churches?” comes a shout from the audience.

“Burn the black churches. Burn ALL the churches,” comes the response.

What happens? Volunteers for Qilombo, a black anarchist group, confront the editor and his pals. BAM! Out of the conference. LEAVE, NOW! Why?

“You said BURN THE BLACK CHURCHES! That makes you a racist.”

Two groups of anarchists. Both anti-government. At right angles, one group attacking the other-- becoming the cops they hate. It's like an L-shaped turd! Impossible.

But wait, there's more. In an amazing YouTube video, two groups of feminists demonstrate on campus. There's a march. Actually they're trying to start the march. It's not exactly clear what's happening, but they can't seem to get the thing started. They're shouting at each other.

“This march is for women only! Everyone needs their own space.”

“Why does women's space exclude trans-women? You're defining what women are...?”

“I'm not defining! I'm....”

And this is all at high-pitched screeching volume in those girl voices that are as annoying as-- and even more piercing than-- frat-boy guffaws. I bet it would be fun to watch on acid.... I haven't taken acid in 30 years.

Flash to: An anarchist conference in Portland Oregon, 2013. Not satisfied with their own space, Portland anarcha-femmes hold the whole conference hostage. In a presentation, they rise as a trained choir and shout together, 

“WE WILL NOT BE SILENT IN THE FACE OF YOUR VIOLENCE” 

They shout it over and over again. The speaker can't speak. She's silenced by the spoken mob violence of the protestors. Their totalitarianism blocks any communication... Government censorship is no more effective than this bunch.

And so it goes. Each sensitive group is so concerned about ITSELF. So ME! MY TRIBE! that it no longer matters what people believe... only what they ARE. Biology is destiny!

I'm a Person of Color^®. I'm a Womyn^®. I'm a Trans-Woman/Man/Am^®. I'm a fill-in-the-blank. You can't know what it's like. Jesus fuckin' christ!

I'm a Jew. I love matzo-ball soup, bagels, and the hora. Every Passover, I go to a Seder. Every Yom Kippur, I fast. BUT, I don't give a shit if YOU'RE NOT A JEW. You're welcome to matzo-ball soup, bagels, my Seder, fasting... and the hora. The synagogue may be Jew-space, but you can come in and join me there.

Why do we need tribal warfare? Why do we need space ONLY FOR US? It's a cheap version of the whites-only country clubs. Who needs it?

Enough ME, already. It's a staple of the right. Margaret Thatcher once famously said, “There is no society” ONLY ME! 

Leftist identilovers say “there is no society” ONLY MY TRIBE. Who needs it? I don't need to be defined by the lack of foreskin on my penis. Poverty, economic inequality, the erosion of personal freedom, these are not ME issues! They are WE issues.

Flash to Punk Rock: Ratos de Porao are in New York for the first time in more than a decade. Yowsah! They're playing at a Latino metal / punk fest in Queens. White metal, Latino metal (that is, white metal with finer asses), white punk, and RATOS! You're too young to remember when Brazilian hardcore was king of the world. Think Ohlo Seco and Colera. Ratos was part of that.

I'm late to the show. I had to teach until 9 and it was a long subway ride. I walk from the subway to the club in Queens. Esneider lives around here, maybe he'll be at the show. That building ahead. BLACKTHORN, it says on the awning. The whole building is black. Outside are a bunch of Hispanic guys-- my size, long hair, wearing black. This must be the place.

Gilberto waits for me outside.

“Ola Mykel,” he says, “you're three hours late. You become Mexican or something?”

Wiseguy.

I walk in, grab a beer at the bar. On stage is a bouncer. A big white guy, with a bigger belly. He's pyramid-shapped. Not aggressive, just standing there... dull eyed. He's got the heavy-lidded, hung-lipped look of someone whose numchucks are more numb than chucked.

Also on stage is DRIVEN MAD. It's a metal band. I don't like metal... The band is all long-hairs except for the singer. Shaved head, he looks a fuck of a lot like Ben Weasel. He sounds like Jello Biafra would, if someone were squeezing his balls. 

And he's all over the place. KABLU! He leaps from the stage to the bar. Pole dancing like those guys on the subway. Then SPLOW! On the floor... this way... that way... confronting... and loving... the audience at the same time. The crowd is eating it up. They should be. This guy is great. This band is great. The best thing I've seen in ages. This isn't metal. It's... It's... Then it hits me. IT DOESN'T MATTER!

Between songs, he speaks... in Spanish. It's school Spanish, as formal as in Spain, but he speaks to the Latino crowd IN SPANISH... becoming WE instead of ME! I'm in love!

There's a bigger pit for the next band. The singer stays on stage, so the crowd makes the action instead. I move toward the back as the mosh pit grows. Most of the audience is Hispanics. That means they're more my size. Who can I stand behind? A five foot four inch guy doesn't make much of a shield for a five foot three-inch guy.

The adrenaline is rushing. A girl, skinny, wearing leather pants and a tight tank top, pushes her way through the crowd to the pit. That's what I like to see. Girls in the pit. 

But... she's got something to prove. Not only is she smashing her fellow dancers, she's slamming into the audience, pushing random people, throwing them down, not giving a fuck. She pushes me. I punch her in the stomach. A karate chop... kung fu actually. THWAP. Not thinking... just a split second reaction. I feel her tight abdomen against the side of my hand. She doesn't blink an eye. I wait for the delayed reaction... a subtle hand rubbing the offended part. Nothing. I'm disappointed... or relieved.

Ah, the sound booth. Just three steps up, but those three steps give me just the boost I need. I can see... be slightly above the crowd, and in relatively safety. I climb two steps and stand next to a door that says PLEASE DON'T LEAN ON THE DOOR. I don't lean on the door.

A prissy skinny guy with a blond beard and tight black jeans pushes past me. I step down to let him enter the booth. The band plays. It's more heavy metal, and I'm lovin' it. The prissy guy returns and glares at me. Doesn't say a word. I smile.

“Move!” he says.

I step down. He enters the sound booth. I go back on the stairs. The pit looks more violent now. Some meatheads, fists swinging, looking for trouble. They're banging into other meatheads. Those meatheads bang back. There's gonna be a fight.. a big brawl between these guys. I can see it. One of 'em is down. Here comes the boot to the head... Nope... Another guy bends toward him... helps him up... They hug... laugh... Best pals in the world... Holy shit!

The door of the sound booth opens. Prissy boy whacks it hard against me.

“Look,” he says through gritted teeth, “you can't stand there. Can't you read the sign?”

He points to the DO NOT LEAN sign.

“I think so,” I tell him. He tsks loudly and goes out. He's soon back and I jump off the stairs to accommodate him. In a few seconds, a monster white guy appears. Tree-trunk muscles, shaved head, tight black t-shirt that should,--but doesn't-- say DON'T YOU DARE FUCK WITH ME. He stands at the top of the stairs, so I can't.

I get it. Our bearded whiteguy told SECURITY about what a trouble maker I was. So, instead of a 5'3” old Jewish guy on the stairs, there's a 9 foot monster on the stairs. Yeah, that helps the situation... makes a clear passage. I go for another beer, return and stand right next to the staircase. The monster glares at me. I smile. 

Before long, the monster leaves for the men's room. Can I do it? I press in my stomach muscles. Push the fingers of my right hand against my tonue. YES!!! I puke on the stairs. Then I move up to the side of the stage.

I stand next to a colored bouncer, at the edge of the stage. Ratos are on now. And things are gonna get even better. The first few songs are fun, kind of speed metal punk... hardcore with a lot of mugging from Gordo, the singer, who must be almost as old as I am. The crowd is wild. The band is having a great time. I return with another beer.

Fuck, the same girl I chopped in the stomach is at it again. PLOW! She's on stage... throwing her arms around... hip-smashing Estevan. the new guitar player. He's only trying to remember his chords. She's an asshole. No way around that. POW! Security is up. there. First the white guy-- the nine foot tall macho booth protector. He grabs her by the hair... pulls... drags her to the side.

POW TWO! Her boyfriend, long hair... skinnier than most... leather jacket. He shoulders through the crowd and leaps over the barrier onto the stage. KABLAM! He lands one on the bouncer's neck... a fist... not a karate chop. STABOOM! The black bouncer standing next to me is on the stage... and the retarded white guy is in the middle of it... fending off blows while the black guy punches back. Then the other white guy... the macho one... sent by the sound crew to protect them from me... gets in the action.

The band stops. Shouts of MATA LOS something-or-other rise from the crowd. PANIC. People run toward the door, t-shirts over their noses. Why? I don't... shit... I'm dripping snot... not dripping... flowing, snot puddles down my mustache, soaking my beard like twat juice from a squirter. My eyes burn. Fuck, they maced the crowd. The bouncers sprayed everyone. Show's over, I'm getting out of here.

Gilberto grabs my shoulder, pulling me like a dad trying to save his drowning son... into the entrance... to the front door. The door glass is smashed. The outside gate is down... over the glass... KABLOW, something smashes into that gate. It bulges but does not break. We're frantic... looking for a way out. There is an exit... with an emergency PUSH HERE handle... one way... like at a bank ATM. We're on it. WEEEE-EEEE-EEE WEEE-EEEE-EEE. The alarm? A police siren? No time to check. We're outta there.

Flash to the next day: Gilberto and I are off to see R-Tronika at ABC NO RIO. Who should be at the door waiting to collect my 8 dollars? Esneider!

“What happened to you last night?” I ask. “I thought you'd be at the Ratos show. Let me tell you about it!”

“I've already seen it,” he says. “It was on YouTube last night.”

“Why weren't you there?” I ask.

“That's a heavy metal place,” he says. “Not my thing... by the way, what color were the bouncers?”

“Black and white,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “That always happens. Black and white guys don't get Latinos. They think there's violence. Then they MAKE the violence.”

Yo, he's right and wrong.

Wrong: musical correctness, making THIS kind of music okay and THAT kind of music “not my thing.” Before yesterday, I thought that way too. I learned. Maybe I knew all along. In Mexico, or Guyana, or Estonia, I saw folk music with speed metal with pop punk. Sometimes all from the same band. “I like the music,” rather than I AM A PUNK ROCKER. No one gives a fuck what you are!

Right: Sometimes race can make a difference. If those bouncers were Hispanic, the riot wudda never happened. The shithead girl would have been grabbed, lifted over the barrier, and gone back into the crowd. Maybe someone else would have punched her. 

So my ME vs WE thesis has a hole, as does every generalization. Sometimes race is important. It's certainly worth considering to preserve the peace. You wouldn't hire a black guard to frisk under the sheets at a Klan rally. We can bend identity... use it... but we don't need to be trapped by it. Ruled by it. So here's my conclusion.

We need more I LIKE than I AM. We need more, LET'S WORK AS PEOPLE, than LET'S WORK AS (Blacks, Women, Transsexuals, Latinos, Jews, Muslims, Whites, blah blah blah). Narrow identity destroys HUMAN identity.

English has two kinds of WE: the INCLUSIVE-- you and me-- like we need to end hunger in America. There's also the EXCLUSIVE WE-- me and my group-- like we need our own space. That means This is not YOUR space. We (inclusive) need more of the former and a fuck of a lot less of we (exclusive).

I'll be in Detroit in June. It's the Alternative Media Conference. The workshops will sewers of identitute. Some examples?

• POC-led Healing and Organizing Strategies
• Smashing Assumptions: Muslimahs in Sport
• Black Femme Blogger Meet-Up (I shit you not)

and my favorite: Creative Digestion for People of Color (I L-shaped-turd-double-shit-you -not.) That one includes this description: In this caucus we will reclaim the dirtiest parts of ourselves, and explore how cleanliness and hierarchies of fluids stem from colonialism, capitalism, and ableism. We will also discuss how the white supremacist capitalist food system affects our relationships with eating, fucking, and excretion. Come prepared to make art, share stories, and get messy. This is a POC-only space.

Uh oh, looks like I'm going to have to bring my calendar-scribbling pen: CREATIVE EXCRETION FOR WHITE JEWS. This is an OJF (Old Jewish Farts)-only space. I'll let you know what happens.

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on Facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->I'd like to pull the trigger dept: Wellesley Students have petitioned the university to remove a statue of a sleepwalking man in his underwear. The reason? It may “trigger unpleasant memories.” This is related to a series of demands for “trigger warnings” on course material or other college things “that might cause strong emotional reactions among students.”

Jeezus! It was 20 long years ago when we fought the PMRC to take warning labels OFF of music because it had a chilling effect, causing bands to change lyrics and record companies to change covers to avoid the label. Now, we want to put warning labels on TOM SAWYER because someone might be offended by the word Nigger! Grow up!

-->Old news dept: Further on the NOT JUST GOVERNMENTS CENSOR front: Yale University Press will remove all images of Mohammed from The Cartoons that Shook the World. A press spokesman said the images were removed to prevent possible violence “somewhere in the world.” Maybe they should have just put a trigger warning on the book.

-->Keeping the pressure on dept: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a Bring Back Mykel concerted effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll. He forwarded me an answer to a letter MRR printed where the editors excuse my firing not as censorship, but because I “refuse to answer letters in the letters section.”

That is not true. I only asked that I be allowed to say I don't LIKE to answer letters in the letters section. It's unfair to the letter-writer for the columnist to always get the last word. If MRR demands I answer there, I will. So here, in ones and zeroes, I'm publicly agreeing to abide by their rules. Their excuse for censoring me disappears.

I hope you'll cut and paste the paragraph above into an email. (Thanks to those who've already done that) Send it-- along with your comments-- to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL. Let me know how they answer.

-->And I almost forgot. I'm on a massive clean-up/divest kick. I'm giving away DVDs, Cassettes, VHS videos, and a few CDs. Just pay separate shipping and handling. Details at: MykelsGiveaway

Pro-Choice: To have slaves... or not! Mykel Board's Post-MRR Column 9

 YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMN NO. 9

Mykel is pro-choice: To Have Slaves or Not

by Mykel Board

"The freedom for which Davy Crockett, James Bowie and the rest fought at the Alamo was the freedom to own slaves. As soon as Anglos set up the Republic of Texas, its legislature ordered all free black people out of the Republic.” --James W. Loewin

“One of the things freedom requires is that we allow people to be boorish and uncivilized. But that doesn’t mean we approve of it.” – Rand Paul on the faults of the 1964 Civil Rights Act which outlawed racial discrimination at private businesses.

It happens all the time... an itchy nose... an errant hair grows from inside and begins to tickle. Micron by invisible micron, it lengthens and begins to press its way out, invisible in the mirror... but more and more irritating.

I run my index finger under my nostril. Ah, there it is! I squeeze the hair between my thumbnail and finger. Pull! A hard fast downward jerk. Damn.. slipped right through... still there... invading the privacy of my nostril. Try again, this time squeezing hard, digging my nail against my finger until it bleeds... almost. JERK HARD... there's ping of pain inside my nose. I DID IT.

I examine the hair. The whole thing, I got it. From gray tip to white root. There it is. I drop it in the waste basket and celebrate my new nasal freedom from irritants. Then I think... what about that single nosehair?

Here's the deal: Rand Paul and several other “Libertarians” claim that the idea of freedom is the right to make your own choices, free from government interference.

They say the 1964 Civil Rights bill, passed under Lyndon Johnson, takes away the freedom of restaurant and hotel owners to refuse to serve whoever they damn well please to refuse to serve.

Sheldon Richman, a Libertarian writer for the Christian Science Monitor sums it up:

I write as a Libertarian, something Rand Paul claims not to be. The essence of the Libertarian philosophy is that each person owns him- or herself and whatever belongings he or she honestly acquires. Thus individuals are due freedom of association and, logically, non-association. It also follows that the owner of property should be free to set the rules of use, the only constraint being that the owner may not use aggressive force against others.

Admittedly, that leaves room for loathsome peaceful behavior, such as running a whites-only lunch counter. Who imagined that freedom of association couldn’t have its ugly side?

Nevertheless, individuals are either free to do anything peaceful or they are not. If politicians decide, we have arbitrary government. But government is force, and force is moral only in response to force.

[Flash to an alternate 1963] The segregated South gets whiff of the Civil Rights plans. There's a meeting in the basement of the Baptist church in Lubbock, Texas: a dozen men, each with his rifle. Tough-talking Sheriff “Wild” Bill Jackson tells the assembled crew:

“I know Johnson,” he says. “He used to be one of us. Now, he wants to take away our rights... like Lincoln did... He needs the same solution. You ready boys?”

“We're ready Bill,” comes the reply.

“Let's go,” says Bill.

It's inauguration day. Lyndon is taking over from Kennedy. We're in Washington DC for the swear-in... somewhere behind an alternate grassy knoll..

PEKYUUU! Johnson's dead as a Kennedy. President Humphrey has all the support of Klansman in Harlem. There is no Civil Rights Act.

The lunch counter sit-ins in Greensboro spread throughout the segregated South. To Woolworth's, to diners, to catfish shacks from Myrtle Beach to El Paso. Colored folks walk into restaurants and just sit, waiting to be served. Often there is trouble.

“Now you boys just go to your own places,” says a waitress. “People like to be with their own kind.”

“But we want to eat here,” says a coffee-colored young man. “This is a public place, and we're the public.”

“If you don't leave,” says the clerk, “I'm afraid I'm gonna have to call the law.”

“Now,” says the young man, “we're just sitting here-- not causing any problem.”

Before long, the cops come. “You're under arrest, boys!”

They refuse to leave. There is violence.

Wake-up buckaroos. Can't you get it? BOTH SIDES need to use the force of government. The Civil Rights Act says that owners of public accommodations must serve everyone. If they don't, then the government uses force (fines, police protection etc) to ensure they do.

By Libertarian rules, if colored folks sit at a whites-only lunch counter, and the owner has a “right” not to serve them, what does he do? He can use force (private cops) to get them out, and if they fight back POW! Call the city cops and have the government use force.

The question is NOT intimidation by government force, but only which side is intimidated. It's too easy to only think about the nostril and forget the reality of the nosehair.

Libertarians would allow slavery, because it should be a private CHOICE whether or not to have slaves. Right? But what about the SLAVES' choice? Libertarians oppose the minimum wage, because it should be the employer's CHOICE how much to pay his employees. But what about the EMPLOYEES' choice?

Oh yeah, don't tell me they can just leave and find other jobs. With high unemployment, there are NO other jobs. And double oh yeah, Libertarians oppose unemployment benefits. Can you say SLAVERY?

More recently, these Libertarians, along with a gaggle of religious rightists are asking the government for the “right” for corporations to refuse to serve-- or provide for-- people based on their religious beliefs.

Take Mormonism... please! Mormons used to believe colored people were less than human. Their skin was cursed by God for some past sin I'm too lazy to Google. Recently-- probably due to Mitt Romney's inability to crack the double digits among black voters-- the Later Day Saints have relented. For Mormons, Negro nosehairs are now just as good as white nosehairs. It reminds me of the 1960s Catholics unblaming the Jews for killing Christ. Gee thanks.

But imagine pre-Romney Mormons owning a restaurant and that restaurant refusing to serve Negroes because their “religion prohibits it!” Is that freedom? What about the Negroes?

A couple months ago I wrote about the Crown Heights riots in Brooklyn. After a colored kid was struck by a car in a Lubavitch procession, a Lubavitch ambulance appeared... and picked up the driver.

Since I wrote that, I found out that the driver had been attacked by a mob and the pick-up was for his protection. Good reason. But, couldn't they have picked up the kid too? I dunno. Maybe there was a religious reason.

Let's go to 1990... an alternate 1990. A Libertarian world. Little Moishe Pippik is crossing Steinway Street in the Middle East section of Queens. He steps into the crosswalk. The motorcade of Imam Jooshmoo comes to the crosswalk at the same time.

SPLATT! Looks like little Moishe is not going to make it to his Bar Mitzvah.

WEEOOO WEEOOO BLAU BLAU BLAU WEEOO WEEOO, a Sheik-Saver volunteer ambulance pulls up to the front of the motorcade. The Imam gets in. Little Moishe goes to meet that other Moishe in Jewish heaven. Of course, there is a riot.

Could you imagine a city (country? world?) where an ambulance, say from Columbia Presbyterian Hospital would only pick up Presbyterians? What about the guy lying in the street? Should he just wait for the right ambulance? Do they check his religious ID card? Doesn't sound like freedom at all.

“Should Muslim butchers have to serve pork?” shout the Libertarians.

“Of course not,” I say, “but they have to serve Jews.”

If they're public butchers, licensed to operate on the public streets of the city, they have to serve everyone. There is no requirement that butchers serve pork at all. No public pork license... no mandated meat... only that it be uncontaminated..

It's a little different with Hobby Lobby. That company is owned by Evangelicals. Because of the owners' religious beliefs, they refuse to provide their employees with some kinds of contraception (as required by law). The law already exempts religious institutions from having to provide these benefits, but HOBBY LOBBY is not a religious group. It's a company open for business with a government (state, Federal tax ID) license. There IS a law that says employer insurance must pay for birth control for its employees.

Does Hobby Lobby have the “religious freedom” to deny benefits to their employees? If that's their freedom, what about the EMPLOYEES?

FLASH TO ALTERNATE 2014: I've got a shopping list of things to do: a visit to the doctor for a check-up, a visit to the drug store for stomach medication... and condoms, to replace the ones in my wallet-- expired 1999. Then to the grocery store for coffee and shrimp for dinner.

“Hey, doc,” I say, “it's time for a health check. Gotta see if I'm gonna make it to another birthday.”

“Sorry Mykel,” says Doc, “I've converted to Pentecostal. I don't examine or work with anyone who drinks alcohol. My apologies and I hope you'll see the error of your ways and give up drinking.”

Shit! What am I going to do now? My insurance is limited. I can only get a check-up from an “in-network” doctor. I'll have to find another doc. Do they list their religions on the web? Maybe I'll just skip it this year.

So, I'm off to the pharmacy for my stomach medication. I have chronic heartburn... GERD... and need to take a stupid brown pill every day to stop the pain.

I walk to the back of CVS and give a pretty young clerk my prescription. She hands it back to me.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Board,” she says. “I'm a Christian Scientist. We believe that God alone heals us. Drugs and doctors are like voodoo... black magic... prayer makes healing... not drugs.”

And you can guess how far I get looking for condoms. I feel like a discarded nosehair.

So what about Hobby Lobby? The law says that employers of over 20 people have to provide healthcare for those people. “Healthcare” is defined to include birth control.

ASIDE: I don't like Obamacare, but my reasons have nothing to do with religious rights. I believe that it's the duty of the GOVERNMENT to “provide for the general welfare” of its citizens. (Article 1 section 8 of the US Constitution) If health isn't “general welfare” I don't know what is. Employers shouldn't be burdened with this. It's the job-- the main job-- of government. But Obamacare is the law: for everyone. END OF ASIDE

Companies do not have religion. Corporations do not get Bar Mitzvahed. Starbucks will not have a first communion. Catholic bookstores, if they're in a church, do not have to provide abortions for their employees. But a company? A store? How can they be free to choose among benefits in the name of religion? What about the EMPLOYEES' choice?

I'd write more, but my nose itches.

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003.]

-->Don't plug my loophole baby dept: Loopholes4all.com is a website that gives you a foreign address, a company, and an offshore bank account where you can safely stash your dozens of dollars without the feds knowing. The website says it's "a service to democratize offshore business for people who don't want to pay for their riches. It empowers everyone to evade taxes, hide money and debt and get away with anything, by stealing the identities of real offshore companies."

PayPal has suspended all payments to Loopholes... An interesting development, since PayPal avoids paying US taxes by situating itself in Luxembourg. Is that offshore enough for you?

-->Maybe it's the language dept: Montreal Mayor Michael Applebaum was the first English-speaking mayor of the city in more than a century. He was elected in 2013 with a campaign promise to "end an era of sleaze" in the city government. He recently resigned after being arrested for fraud. He is accused of accepting bribes for awarding construction permits. In Toronto, the (of course English-speaking) mayor has resisted calls to quit over a crack-smoking scandal. In fact, he's running for re-election.

-->Sounds like the CIA dept: Lots of Brazilians have been protesting the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympics. Like the Olympics, the World Cup is high status, but really bad for the locals. The influx of tourists causes huge price increases, and housing shortages. Often locals find themselves in near lock-downs in the name of "security." But these protests have the smell of something more. The Brazilian President, Dilma Rousseff, was a leftist activist and she is loved by many on the left. The vehemence of the protests says that there may be something more than Olympiphobia behind them. Anyway, that's where I'd place my bets.

-->Sometimes conspiracies are true dept: Anytime someone accuses the government of being bad, and not telling people it was bad, you hear "It's some conspiracy nut." Trouble is... lots of conspiracies are true.

ABC News revealed that, in the early 1960s, America's top military leaders drafted plans to kill innocent people and commit acts of terrorism in U.S. cities. Why? To create public support for a war against Cuba. Code named Operation Northwoods, the plans reportedly included the possible assassination of Cuban émigrés, sinking boats of Cuban refugees on the high seas, hijacking planes, blowing up a U.S. ship, and even orchestrating violent terrorism in U.S. cities.

Makes that stuff about the The World Trade Center seem... er... plausible, doesn't it?

-->Keeping the pressure on dept: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a Bring Back Mykel concerted effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll. He forwarded me an answer to a letter MRR printed where the editors excuse my firing not as censorship for content, but because I “refuse to answer letters in the letters section.”

That is not true. I only asked that I be allowed to say I don't LIKE to answer letters in the letters section. It's unfair to the letter-writer for the columnist to always get the last word. If MRR demands I answer there, I will. SO, here I'm publicly agreeing to abide by their rules. Here it is in ones and zeros. Their excuse for censoring me disappears.

I hope you'll cut and paste the paragraph above into an email, and send it-- along with your comments-- to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL. Let me know how they answer.

MRR also has a facebook page, (as does (did?) Mariam Bastani, the girl who fired me. In any case, you can't get to her page from here. It may be gone.) You might want to let them know how you feel in any case. 

-end-

If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available by joining the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com You're also welcome to use that group to have discussions, ask questions, etc. Personal attacks though, will be deleted.

And I almost forgot. I'm on a massive clean-up/divest kick. I'm giving away DVDs, Cassettes, VHS videos, CDs. Just pay the postage. Details at: tinyurl.com/MykelsGiveaway

Why I Wear Black (today) ! Mykel Board's Post-MRR Column 8

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMN No. 8

by Mykel Board

aka Today I Wear Black

“This nation is poised to trash the first amendment just to stop my preaching. I'm kind of honored.” --Fred Phelps

The enemy? Hey: it could be like Sid Vicious in his swastika shirt… singing My Way. What could be punker in the 21st century than becoming a Muslim? --Mykel Board writing about Islam as Punk in 2012

It's Friday, March 21. I wear black because FRED PHELPS, founder of Westboro Baptist Church, has kicked the bucket. Actually, I wear black every day. I live in New York and am an old punkrocker, so OF COURSE I wear black. Today, I have an additional reason.

According to CNN Phelps was often called "the most hated man in America." I bet he loved the label.

"If I had nobody mad at me," he said, "what right would I have to claim that I was preaching the Gospel?"

There is more to it than that. Phelps had an additional reason.

Fred was probably most famous for picketing the funerals of U.S. servicemen. He and his followers claimed the soldiers' deaths were related to increased tolerance of homosexuality, rather than... oh let's say ...increased U.S. belligerence and aggression against the rest of the world. Wacky, huh? I don't think so.

I say Fred Phelps was a punk. I've written before about Asperger's Syndrome. Victims of A.S. lack empathy for others. They can't tell what other people think, so they say and do inappropriate things. They're not aware of what will offend.

I also described a variant. I call it AsburgerKING Syndrome. In that one, people say and do things BECAUSE they'll offend. AsburgerKing is punk.

Now let's take a look at Fred Phelps:

He moves to Topeka Kansas on May 4, 1954. In these pre-preacher times, he's a practicing lawyer. He moves the day the Supreme Court decides the case of Brown vs. Board of Education. The court says that school segregation is illegal. The idea of separate-but-equal is not viable. Separate cannot be equal, they decide.

It's the beginning of desegregation... and busing. White people are furious at the prospect of their little Johnny or Mary going to school with little LeRoy or Kesha!

So, in his new home in this white state in the near south, what would the most annoying, hateful job be... especially for a lawyer? Yep, INTEGRATION LAW! Suing white schools on behalf of black constituents. Let the colored folks in! Now!

And guess what Fred Phelps Esq. takes it on himself to do... at discount rates? You guessed it! Be a lawyer against the white schools! Push the colored folks on them!

Rev. Ben Scott, president of the NAACP's Topeka branch, talks to CNN.

“Fred Phelps?” He says, “Most blacks -- that's who they went to, I don't know if he was cheaper or if he had that stick-to-it-ness, but Fred didn't lose many back then."

Sounds pretty punk to me.

The nineties brought a change in attitude. Many saw it as a liberalization of thinking. For me, it was a new quest for normalcy... but that's a different column... several of them.

In any case, Negritude became less of an issue. Most people either didn't care, or supported Fred in the integration effort. The new controversy was Homotude.

It's the early 90s: homo movements are noisy enough to encourage a “hands off” attitude by the locals. Fred tests the homo waters in 1991. He appears as the new pastor at Westboro Baptist Church, most of whose members are in the Phelps family. Using the church pulpit as a stage, Fred publicly complains about the city of Wichita's “refusing to stop homosexual activity in a public park.”

He makes a few waves, and is soon forgotten.

1998: Matthew Shepard is murdered in Wyoming. Though there is now some controversy surrounding his death, in 1998, the world is convinced Shepard was murdered because of his sexuality. Even conservatives are shocked by the brutal slaying.

America's homosexuals jump on the murder, using Shepard as a posterboy for homophobia. Every objection to homotude is met with “that's just what Matthew Shepard's murderer said.” Even the Catholic church shuts up for a while.

In steps Rev. Phelps, and the Westboro crew. They assemble... all dozen or so of them... and picket Shepard's funeral. Pictures of their notorious GOD HATES FAGS posters are in every newspaper from here to Timbukthree. It's Sid Vicious with his swastika shirt, singing My Way-- yet again. Westboro is the Filth and the Fury. Labeled up and down as HATERS, they instantly become the HATED.

Outrage pours from Americans like beer from Oktoberfest taps. Left and right shake in their collective boots: army, cowboy, or recycled imitation leather. This guy is EVIL!

The hate-baiting Southern Poverty Law Center calls Westboro Baptist "arguably the most obnoxious and rabid hate group in America."

Over on the other side, Jerry Falwell, not exactly Mr. Tolerance himself, answers those who accuse Westboro of giving right-wing religious zealots a bad name. He calls Phelps “a hatemonger” and “unbalanced.”

“Fred Phelps does not give the religious right a bad name,” says Falwell, “because nobody claims kin to that guy.”

Damned right! Nobody would.

When Falwell dies, there's Fred and his crew at the funeral.

“Falwell split Hell wide open" says Fred... at the cemetary... And he's there... with another great sign: GOD IS AMERICA'S TERRORIST. I don't get it either, but I love it.

Fred knows if he sticks to picketing religious right-wingers and homos, he'll again be shuffled off to the side, ignored. Most Americans are neither religious maniacs nor fudge packers.

Opportunity knocks in 2003. The Supreme Court strikes down anti-sodomy laws. The homo movement turns from Homotude as exceptional... and legalizing the right to be exceptional... to Homotude as just like everybody else. The right to marry replaces the right to screw in the park bushes. Gay people abandon punkdom for white picket fences.

Fear not, Fred will pick up the slack.

Phelps understands that the glue holding America together is... well... Americans. And the glue that holds Americans together is the love of people in uniform-- American uniforms.

From The VFW to Veterans for Peace, Americans love soldiers-- especially dead ones. Arlington Virginia Military Cemetery has as many visitors as Disneyland. Let some veteran into a ballpark... and there'll be a ceremony. An incalculable number of minutes-of-silence^® have been spent on people who did nothing more than murder their fellow human beings-- and in turn get murdered by them. Americans can't get enough of flag-draped coffins.

So, where do Fred Phelps and the Westboro dozen go? You guessed it, to MILITARY FUNERALS. And not with just any picket sign. What's gonna offend most? Would you believe THANK GOD FOR DEAD SOLDIERS? Or PRAY FOR MORE DEAD SOLDIERS?

This is what makes Phelps so punkrock. He takes the most precious idea... the thing Americans hold dearest... almost all Americans... and he pisses on it.

There are trials... arrests. Fred's case goes all the way to the Supreme Court. Amazingly, in 2011, the court upholds Westboro's right to picket military funerals. Unhappy at that, Congress and several states pass laws requiring some distance between the pickets and the funeral. Other states try more obstructionist tactics. Everybody hates Fred.

In 2013, more than 367,000 petitioners ask the White House to legally recognize Westboro Baptist Church as A HATE GROUP. The White House calls Westboro's protests "reprehensible" but says "as a matter of practice, the federal government doesn't maintain a list of hate groups." Yeah, right.

But that's not the point. What IS the point is that Phelps chose his targets to maximize offense-- not to make a statement. I doubt he believed half of he said. Check it out:

Denmark legalized gay marriage long before the U.S. did. Was Phelps out there damning the Danes? Where were the GOD HATES DENMARK signs? How 'bout HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN WAS A PEDOPHILE? Pickets at the funerals of anybody whose last name ends in SEN? It didn't happen. Denmark has five million people. Most of them don't give a little mermaid's ass what happens in the U.S. Attack Denmark? Why? There's nobody to offend.

Fred wasn't against homosexuality any more than I'm against fellatio! He was an agitator, a rabble-rouser, a troublemaker. A punk.

When the band Guest Shot filmed a “porno” (actually just a girl clit diddling herself) on Westboro church grounds, Fred could have called the cops. This wasn't picketing. This was trespassing. But there was NO reaction from the Westboro crew? Why? Because that too was punk. It was something Phelps could understand and appreciate.

So at 84, Fred Phelps is gone. And with his death, I'm afraid, will go the spirit of the church. The spirit of punk.

If I can get Fred's kind of reaction when I'm his age, it'll be a dream come true. In the meantime, I just sit in front of my Toshiba laptop, typing this column-- wearing black for a good reason.

--end--

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available by joining the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->Like a Virgin dept: The town of Virgin, Utah requires a fee from residents who want to comment on zoning and planning issues at Town Council meetings. They have to pay $25 for the "right," according to a new law. Two years before, the town tried to require homeowners to have guns for self-defense. That law was struck down by the courts.

For me, that's a perfect representation of our democracy. Free speech to anyone who can afford the price-- and a gun to enforce it.

-->Women are the oppressed ones? dept: You'd expect that in a society that values men over women... and oppresses women... and creates a patriarchy... women would be unhappier than men. You'd expect that women would be offing themselves at twice (or more) the rate that men do. Why live under such oppression? Why just not take half a dozen pills and end it all?

Well, that's not the case. The Guardian reports “Male suicide rate in the UK is 3½ times that of women.” Wikipedia tells of a similar disparity among US suicides. So, who has the harder life? The most misery? Hmmm?

-->Why is MRR like the NFL? dept: Readers of my post MRR columns know that the reason for my being fired from that zine was my insistence on using the word “nigger” rather than Ni**er, when quoting someone who originally used that word. Now the NFL follows suit.

Instead of firing players who use that word on the field, the team will be penalized 15 yards for each use. You can bet your black ass that the first person to use the word will NOT be white.

John Wooten, head of the Fritz Pollard Association, wants the rule extended: “We want this word to be policed from the parking lot to the equipment room to the locker room. Secretaries, PR people, whoever, we want it eliminated completely and want it policed everywhere.” He says.

Guess who the policing will hurt most. It always does.

-end