Happy Birthday To Me

Monday is my birthday, for the few on this planet who don't already know, it being a planetary day of celebration and all... My kids gave me an iPod. In all the years I've been buying them I've never had one of my own. My children have had several, each of them. Now I am loading up all the little gigs with tons of music and videos. I have an eclectic playlist, classical, swing, alternative rock, you name it. But, my favorite is blues and ragtime. However, I have found that my iPod is inordinately fond of Glen Miller. I have it loaded up to shuffle the entire lot and yet, despite Glen Miller being a very small portion of the music on my player, every other song is Glen Miller. I found that SAM, the internet radio software had a singular love for the music in my Christmas folder. I wound up having to move that folder to another drive.

My family bought me this device, partly out of self-defense, and even though they usually have ear buds in and the volume cranked to eleven. If I find something that hits me right at that moment, I will play it over and over. Or, in the case of comparing and contrasting to see how much one artist has ripped off another artist, I will listen to the songs over and over. You could say that Rogue Trader and Escape Club owe a huge debt to Elvis Costello for their single hits. Or, I can get into a mood and want to listen to the entire Weird Al catalog for days at a time. Come on, Mr. Popeil moves everyone.

This birthday I am gratified to find that we are moving even faster towards the inevitable end of progressive liberal politics than ever. The end is in sight and I will see it in my life time. However, like John Galt, I realize that it must be allowed to play out to the last. This is the only way that their like will not return this way again. So that the next time some bleeding heart raises their head and starts whining they will be beat down by so much reason and logic as to slink back under the rock from which they crawled. Or, have their heads blown off by a gun toting Texan who is just sick of all the belly-aching and crying. Jesus Christ on a crutch, I dealt with less tantrums when my kids were little.

My birthday wish is to see the Libs exposed for the power hungry death cult they really are.

Until then I shall listen to Gnossiennes No. 1 followed, probably by Glen Miller's Tuxedo Junction.