Author: whitewolfsonicprincess

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This ad campaign running on the streets of London? Absolutely brilliant. An amazing series of ads. Truly creative and provocative and on-the-money. Darkly-hilarious too. It’s from the group Everybody Hates Elon. The good folks in Britain are pretty wised-up on Nazis, and the hard-right, white-supremacy movement. Many still-living humans have vivid memories of bombs raining down on London in World War II. Dark times in the last century. 

It’s quite the unbuilding the brand idea. Once Tesla’s brand ambassodor revealed his Nazi-sympathies, the process of unbuilding, dismantling, destroying the brand took hold. What’s great, it’s a serious, non-violent, movement. Using advertising is just so elegant & perfect.

It folds in nicely with the Telsa Takedown movement in the USA. Divest from Telsa stock. Sell or trash your Tesla automobile. It’s funny the Tesla was the darling of wealthy, environmentally-conscious, progressives in America. Then, Musk revealed himself, and declared war on the “woke mind virus.” It turns out that the rich woke-folk were his best customers and investors.

The stock is tanking. The cars are crashing. It became obvious that the stock price and the car company were madly, wildly, super-over-inflated. Sort of a shiny, techy, Ponzi scheme. As someone remarked: “Telsa is no longer a car company, it’s a bank for Fascists.”  Reality is now rearing it’s ugly head. 

Musk then multiplied the damage by going after Medicare/Medicaid/Social Security programs here in the States. Something about an over-amped billionaire attacking the social safety net of the common folks just doesn’t sit right.

How does this all end? Who knows?! It is gratifying to watch the stock price tumble. Can’t wait for the next ads to drop. People Power. It is an awesome and inspiring phenomenon. – Jammer

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This is on today. We are doing it. Or in this case, not doing it. The action of no action. Kind of Zen. The moment I read about it, I thought it was a brilliant & elegant idea. Perfect for America. We are such world-class consumers. Let’s be a bit disciplined, and show the world our power by not shopping. Soft power, yes. but, who knows, if enough people participate, maybe the world will notice? That is how movements start? Right?

Why are we doing this? The madness emanating out of the New Fascist Terror Dome Regime and their attack on Americans; the bullshit, and toxic lies, the cruel crusade against DEI and good government. They are trying to hollow out our government and empower the new asshole brigade. And some of our most successful corporations seem to be cheering them on. WE ARE AGAINST IT!

Some folks have belittled this boycott as “performative,”  I find that hilarious. Is it just for show? Sure. But think about it. Every act of opposition, every protest, every boycott, hell, every vote or speech is performative. 

Is it useless? Pointless? Who knows? It will feel good for the folks who do it. It is actually doing something in the face of the new fascism. How many will join? Will anyone notice? Good questions. I guess we will find out. 

Still, every protest started small. Every boycott. To cite some famous examples. One person sat at a drugstore counter and refused to leave. One person refused to sit in the back of the bus. One person posted #BlackLIvesMatter, and a world-wide movement happened. One person suggested boycotting the South African Apartheid Goverment, and over time, the boycott brought the government down.

Isn’t that the glory of Democracy?  People Power in action. People standing up, or sitting down, having their voices heard, and astonishingly, somehow, someway, they change the world. A change of consciousness can happen in a flash of insight. Damn the torpedoes. – Jammer

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Yes. It is true. The new Fascist Terror Dome Regime is ascendant at the moment. They are up front & center, goose-stepping around at home & abroad. Paraphrasing the funniest “Marxist” we know, Groucho: “We are against it!” Hell. We control the vertical & the horizontal. It is time to turn the channel on this anti-human, soul-killing, gob-smackingly-retrograde, nihilistic bullshit… – Jammer

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 The antidotes to the new fascist poison emanating out of D.C. = Poetry, Music, Spirits, Love…

We packed up our instruments, motored over a few miles to a small wine shop Picnic Wine & Provisions, and played our songs in their fabulous back room. There was a small, wonderful, loving crowd. Three of us up front. Two guitars & drums/percussion. Two voices. Big chandelier dangling over us, an impressive fireplace raging behind us. It was cold and snowy outside, warm & cozy inside. A poet Cin Salach started the night with gorgeous lines of poetry. Then we did our thing. A small, but super-essential thing to do. We billed it as a night of Poetry, Spirits, Music & Love. It was all of that and more. I even took the mic and floated a few choice words in opposition to our new fascist terror dome regime. We are against it. Whole-heartedly. Anyway, a good way to celebrate and conjure up an alternative vision; manifesting a better day, a better way. Our beautful dream vs. their dreadful nightmare. And, yes, for sure, damn the torpedoes… – Jammer

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William Blake etching from the Book of Urizen

I think it was Nick Cave, front-man of the Bad Seeds, who said something about Hope being a “warrior spirit.” It resonates with me. Hoping against Hope. Sometimes I find myself hanging onto Hope as a life-raft. Even I am surprised how I can conjure up a lightening-flash of Hope in the lowest & darkest of times. Maybe it’s just an impulse, finding Hope for no good reason? Lately Hope comes with a little smile of incomprehension. It is sort of a bold “fuck you” to the tenor of the times. The idea of giving up Hope is just Hopeless, distasteful, anti-Life. Hope is just a tiny glimmer of an intention; a speck of light, a strange, little, zingy feeling shooting through my veins. Can’t explain it. I think it’s just embedded in me, it’s there with me, I suspect it will be with me as long as I can draw a breath, blink an eye. So yeah, the shit is coming down hard, things look quite dark & bleak. The evil-doers and assholes are ascendent, but I just can’t stop that funny little warrior spirit bubbling up, animating my being. You know it’s a gnarly, nasty, recalcitrant, rebellious, fuck-you, Bartelby the Scrivener: “I would prefer not to,” thing. Maybe it’s tough-minded, hard-wired discipline? An always rooting for the Underdog position. Losing is part of it. The losses come fast, hard and relentlessly, like a ravenous shark. Disagreeing with my fellow Humans? That’s cool. Being out-numbered, pushed around by the bully? Made to eat dirt?  Oh, well. The not giving in, the resistance to that shite, makes one stronger. “Fuck, everything didn’t go my way.” Ha. That’s life, buddy. That’s when you turn to the rebels like Joe Strummer, “The Future is Unwritten.” That’s when Hope really comes into play. Hope; spiky, gnarly, weezing, cursing, crusty, beat-up, you know, I think it’s true, Hope dies last, the dark is always contending with the light, it’s a battle moment to moment. Damn the torpedoes.- Jammer

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I knew it was going to be a good gig when Carla asked me to unstick a microphone stand, I carelessly slammed it on the floor, and metal on metal sliced thru my hand. A nice chunk of my picking hand offered up the gods.

What’s that fleshy part between your thumb and finger called? Thenar eminence. Well, I missed that part, the slice was just a flesh wound, the connecting tissue from thumb to finger. Lots of blood, and a sharp stinging. Carla wrapped the wound with band-aids and golden gaffer’s tape. That was tip-off. Start a gig with a blood sacrifice, it is gonna be a good one.

And yes, it was an extraordinarily great gig. Cary’s Lounge, on Devon in Chicago, a little music mecca. We jammed our big band into a small space and the energy was concentrated and expansive. It had been awhile since we all gathered together to play. A super-cool, gracious and enthusiastic crowd. A fabulous turn-out of a community of souls. We were all there to commune with the ancestors, their carved masks adorning the walls.

So, yeah, we blasted through our set, old songs, newer songs, just-hatched songs. It was exhilarating. I for one, totally lost myself in the moment. No pain, no fear, just love and music. You know, my hand will be fine, might have a little scar, that’s Life, a rememberance of an afternoon of mayhem, and wonder. A great way to start 2025… – Jammer