Kill the filibuster

That raising the minimum wage would not pass muster in the budget reconciliation process is not unexpected. I'm not sure $15 is the right minimum wage for a low-wage state like Arkansas or Mississippi, but given the tradeoffs I'd say let's give it a try. Not gonna happen.

Your FSA/OWI Photo of the Day

Driving While Black (and young and male) in 1941 Pacolet, South Carolina (population 352 in 1940), must have been... well, you'd like to ask these fellows...

Untitled photo, possibly related to: Negro youngsters and their Model "T" near Pacolet, South Carolina, Jack Delano, 1941.

Your FSA/OWI Photo of the Day

That wasn't so bad, was it now?  Dr. Schreiber of San Augustine giving a typhoid inoculation at a rural school, San Augustine County, Texas. John Vachon, 1943.

Do Re Mi

 Shorter Ezra Klein.

Milford Graves, RIP

 Sui generis. With the great David Murray.

Sand hills of Santa Cruz

 A unique landscape and habitat. 

The Expanse

I've enjoyed this Amazon Prime space opera, which recently finished its fifth season. Humans have colonized Mars, and much of the drama revolves around the political tensions between Mars, Earth, and the "belters," the proles who mine the asteroid belt. Being subject to imperialist/extractive global powers, the belters are prone to revolutionary-nationalist impulses, and the more radical among them are capable of inflicting horrific violence on the innocent to gain their independence and respect... or fear. On top of all that, humans have to contend with mysterious and highly powerful artifacts left behind by ancient alien civilizations– in particular, the "protomolecule," which makes the novel coronavirus look pretty harmless!

The best thing about the show is its look and feel. From expansive outer-space scenes and alien landscapes to claustrophobic interiors, the producers have done a lot with their budget. Zero-G is convincingly rendered. Suspenseful set pieces make you feel like you are there. Whether they use CGI or models, the buildings, mines, and mountains are lovely to look at. Some of my favorite scenes show cargo containers docked at the space station Tycho, floating in rectangular blocks and looking for all the world like the cargo of ships docked at the Port of Oakland. Also enjoyable are the incredibly diverse casting, and the sometimes barely comprehensible patois of the belters.

Having said all that, what makes The Expanse feel a little flat compared with its predecessor, Battlestar Galactica? Well, I'm sorry to report, the dialogue and the acting: Clunky, and clunky. Too bad: It's damn near a classic.

Johnny Pacheco, RIP

Fania Records... maybe the best music there is.

Springtime in Foothills Park

While the rest of the country shivers and digs out, we are enjoying what amounts to early spring in the Bay Area: The magnolias and pear trees are in bloom, if you like that kind of thing (I do!), and up in the foothills the earliest bloomers are out, including the uncommon western leatherwood, Henderson's shooting stars, warrior's plume, and milk maids (easy to take for granted). The buckeye leaves have sprung too– flowers to follow soon. Ferns in abundance, greening up as best they can in this year's dry wet season.

Heaven, My Home

This is the third crime novel by Attica Locke that I have read, and I think it is the best of the three. The plot moves at a crisp pace, and along the way you will learn some interesting tidbits about the history of northeastern Texas, out in the wild bayou country around Caddo Lake, where much of the action takes place. Our hero, a Black Texas Ranger named Darren Mathews, shares with many cops in this genre a strong moral compass, plenty of smarts, and a troubled past that becomes entangled with his case. That the story takes place shortly after Trump's election in 2016 and features a cast of genuine and wannabe white supremacists as well as the white grifters who seek to exploit them and their Black and Native American neighbors... well, that just gives the whole affair a certain piquance that is only spicier since January 6.

Chick Corea, RIP

I went through a brief love affair with jazz fusion in the 1970s. How could you not? Some of the most brilliant musicians of their time were the progenitors: Miles, of course, but also notably keyboardists Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea. After free jazz exhaustion we were ready for something a little more accessible, something that held out the hope that jazz could once again be a genre with mass appeal. Herbie's forays became foundational to hip-hop; Chick's were a little stranger and goofier... leprechauns, anyone? Ultimately fusion was pretty busted. But with Chick Corea, there is so much more. To me, the free jazz stuff sticks. Especially in the company of musicians like these... 

Toxic, part 2

TENTSMUIR FOREST
Karen Solie

The sign denoting a negative quantity indicates, 
also, subtraction. The symbol for equivalence

means also alike. The deadliest mushroom is
among the most delicious. Distinct

in their intensities of purpose. Her children found her

on the kitchen floor, plate on the table,
pan on the stove. A life foraging in these woods,

she should have known. But to pour out
is not to spill. To spill is not to lay oneself down.

                                    From The Caiplie Caves