Kharmic histrionics, or, Tom Waits railed against zionism and i missed it?!

More conscientious of late about reaching further out into the blogosphere, i'm thinking the best way to maintain a daily rhythm (and readership) might be to write long, snappy titles and then key out a couple of unassuming sentences or add an image, just so there's an actual post to go with them. More people do this than i would have guessed and it generally works. For example: X, Y or Z. Still, i'm a ridiculously wordy person so long titles are easier to generate than concise to the point of mute postings. Once i had the idea that the best strategy for writing a book would be to generate about 20 chapter titles and then fill in the spaces between them. If you try it and land a publishing deal, please let me know.

The other night i was talking with RM in the great state of Wisconsin and mentioned that i'd been up to the castle earlier that day to see a retrospective exhibit of 20th century Hungarian artist Lajos Vajda. My august attempt to impress her with alliterative nonsense on constructivism was interrupted by her chiding me for mentioning a jaunt to the castle as if it were a perfectly normal, everyday kind of thing. In Wisconsin, they have dairy farms handed down over generations from people who fled Europe to get away from the perversions of royalty, and even in SF, where RM and i both used to live, there are mansions in the city, forts on the cliffs, and nouveau estates over the bridge in Marin - but castles? Not a one. Back in our day, that would've required first a massive handover of cash to Ticketron and then a long drive down the coast to San Simeon; the Hearst Xanadu is a notable paean to excessive wealth, but it's also not the same thing as having a castle in the center of town, its lights reflected at night in the glassy veneer of some european river well-known for inspiring concertos and revolutions. Leave it to a mid-westerner to remind me that one woman's neighborhood castle is another's 'let them eat cake' holiday tour fantasy.

Having been thus jostled, i brought the camera with me to A38 the other night, one of my fave clubs in BP as they seem to have about the best program manager in town. As you can see from the photo, the other trés cool thing about A38 is that it's a boat, anchored on the Buda bank of the Danube not far from the National Theatre, which is visible in the background (behind it the audaciously neon Budapest Palace of the Arts). So not only do i live in a city with a castle, but where people go to concerts on boats - all year round. Sure as hell can't find that in Wisconsin! I don't think you could even find it in Prague. Yet, living here on and off for several years now, the party boat scene has sort of melted into the blur of tattered kiosk posters and palinka binges. Thanks to RM for reminding me not to take the frills of Magyarland for granted, and to N who told me Braindogs were playing and made sure i didn't miss them.

The show happened to be on the night of the only major snowstorm we've had in the city this winter. i'm not a winter person anymore and spend november-march in 3 pairs of socks, in sync with the upper layering of shirts, scarfs and sometimes gloves. i truly believe that if i have to suffer through several months of subzero temps, then it's only fair nature coughs out one of its most magical meteorological perks so that i may at least reap aesthetic pleasure from an otherwise horrid season. Walking in the middle of a down-covered street at night listening to the arythmic thud of snowflakes landing and the airy whoosh as feet displace powder is a virtual reality experience without the gadgets. i know decorative urban lighting is a total waste of electricity, but this particular church on Raday utca looks great at night, snowfall effect creating the impression of an (almost 2-dimensional) Time Burton movie set.

Being a night of cold cold ground, the soundtrack was a perfect fit. Braindogs are a one-show-a-year band who jam so tightly you'd think they'd been touring together for almost as long as the Grateful Dead (ok, Franz Ferdinand). Bluesmen Ian Siegal and Ripoff Rashkolnikov are complemented by a large mix of hungarian musicians who were obviously all born to crank out the indiosyncratic tunes of one of music's most gifted minstrals.

True confession: i actually lost track of Tom Waits in 2005, when i moved to Palestine and went a bit bonkers over George Wassouf and Souad Massi. So i was extremely surprised to hear 'Road to Peace', which is on Waits' 2006 Orphans: Brawlers album. Talk about hitting the nail on its head:

The fundamentalist killing on both sides is standing in the path of peace
But tell me why are we arming the Israeli army with guns and tanks and bullets?

Full lyrics here. The song tells the story of kids who turn their bodies into bombs and makes an a propos reference to Kissinger's real politik... it was bold of them to do this, given the significant number of young israelis filling out the club scene here (generally) and mostly not to hear commentaries on the problem of Israel and America against the world. Even more kudos to Tom Waits for penning these lyrics, and although ironically i've been looking for Souad's last album, that's going to have to wait until after i've caught up with Mr. Waits. My friend M and i used to lament how working full-time in the Palestinian hinterland made it difficult to participate in the kind of on-going direct action resistance that we're genetically programmed to do. So too, it's ironic that with all the anti-occupation music being passed around there, this one fell through the cracks. i'm close to half a century old, i really shouldn't have a problem multi-tasking this sort of thing. Give me Ska-P, give me Waits! Once upon a time, i realized that good things would happen if i just made a point of showing up... another instance of prescient slackerism. Guess it took a few cm's of snow to yank my head out of the counter-kharmic sand.