I started this almanac so I could have a place to vent when I walked away from writing for a newspaper. (A short lived escape.) Whatever, but who wants to hear me go off endlessly?
It's your soapbox too. Write a letter or an article. Take a picture. Whatever you'd like to show off. I look forward to anything and everything. -BT

A letter to the London Observer from Terry Jones (yes, of Monty Python).

Letter to the Observer
Sunday January 26, 2003

The Observer

I'm really excited by George Bush's latest reason for bombing Iraq: he's running out of patience. And so am I! For some time now I've been really pissed off with Mr. Johnson, who lives a couple of doors down the street.

Well, him and Mr. Patel, who runs the health food shop. They both give me queer looks, and I'm sure Mr. Johnson is planning something nasty for me, but so far I haven't been able to discover what.

I've been round to his place a few times to see what he's up to, but he's got everything well hidden. That's how devious he is. As for Mr. Patel, don't ask me how I know, I just know - from very good sources - that he is, in reality, a Mass Murderer. I have leafleted the street telling them that if we don't act first, he'll pick us off one by one. Some of my neighbours say, if I've got proof, why don't I go to the police? But that's simply ridiculous. The police will say that they need evidence of a crime with which to charge my neighbours.

They'll come up with endless red tape and quibbling about the rights and wrongs of a pre-emptive strike and all the while Mr. Johnson will be finalising his plans to do terrible things to me, while Mr. Patel will be secretly murdering people.

Since I'm the only one in the street with a decent range of automatic firearms, I reckon it's up to me to keep the peace. But until recently that's been a little difficult. Now, however, George W. Bush has made it clear that all I need to do is run out of patience, and then I can wade in and do whatever I want!

And let's face it, Mr. Bush's carefully thought-out policy towards Iraq is the only way to bring about international peace and security. The one certain way to stop Muslim fundamentalist suicide bombers targeting the US or the UK is to bomb a few Muslim countries that have never threatened us.

That's why I want to blow up Mr. Johnson's garage and kill his wife and children. Strike first! That'll teach him a lesson. Then he'll leave us in peace and stop peering at me in that totally unacceptable way.

Mr. Bush makes it clear that all he needs to know before bombing Iraq is that Saddam is a really nasty man and that he has weapons of mass destruction - even if no one can find them. I'm certain I've just as much justification for killing Mr. Johnson's wife and children as Mr. Bush has for bombing Iraq. Mr. Bush's long-term aim is to make the world a safer place by eliminating 'rogue states' and 'terrorism'. It's such a clever long-term aim because how can you ever know when you've achieved it?

How will Mr. Bush know when he's wiped out all terrorists? When every single terrorist is dead? But then a terrorist is only a terrorist once he's committed an act of terror.

What about would-be terrorists? These are the ones you really want to eliminate, since most of the known terrorists, being suicide bombers, have already eliminated themselves.

Perhaps Mr. Bush needs to wipe out everyone who could possibly be a future terrorist? Maybe he can't be sure he's achieved his objective until every Muslim fundamentalist is dead? But then some moderate Muslims might convert to fundamentalism. Maybe the only really safe thing to do would be for Mr. Bush to eliminate all Muslims?

It's the same in my street. Mr. Johnson and Mr. Patel are just the tip of the iceberg. There are dozens of other people in the street who I don't like and who - quite frankly - look at me in odd ways. No one will be really safe until I've wiped them all out. My wife says I might be going too far but I tell her I'm simply using the same logic as the President of the United States. That shuts her up.

Like Mr. Bush, I've run out of patience, and if that's a good enough reason for the President, it's good enough for me. I'm going to give the whole street two weeks - no, 10 days - to come out in the open and hand over all aliens and interplanetary hijackers, galactic outlaws and interstellar terrorist masterminds, and if they don't hand them over nicely and say 'Thank you', I'm going to bomb the entire street to kingdom come.

It's just as sane as what George W. Bush is proposing - and, in contrast to what he's intending, my policy will destroy only one street.

Terry Jones

Letter from the editor -

Hey now,

Just a little note, because I’ve been thinking too much, and my mind feels as thin and stretched as the hide on a drum. This is a letter to all of you I love– it’s more direct than a letter to the editor in a real paper, and hopefully you will read it with some prior knowledge of the author. I thank you in advance for your tolerance.

I think it’s safe to say the world is spinning ever faster and faster, and more events – personal, local, and global – are unfolding at a break-neck pace. As a member of the industrialized world, news is available through more sources and mediums than at any other time. It is nearly impossible to avoid some information, no matter how hard you try.

It probably sounds awful to hear it from someone who works for a newspaper, but I can’t take it anymore. I am so saturated with information that it has all taken on an unsettling sameness; and none of it seems particularly important or pressing. We could be bombing Iraqis or the Irish; in fact, because nothing seems far-fetched anymore, I assume we’re probably doing both.

I don’t believe what I’m told, and when I do, it’s because I was there and saw it with my own eyes. Ninety percent of news and information seems to exist to distract me from the ten
percent I really should be watching like a hawk. The wool is being pulled over my eyes, but they were closed anyway.

It’s as if every nightmare scenario from “1984,” “Fahrenheit 451,” and Vonnegut has come into being, and we have welcomed it, despite knowing the consequences.

The horrible part is that somewhere deep inside of me, I still know better. I still know I need to care enough to do something, before the world gets even sicker. But like most of the people I know, I am too busy, sleep-deprived, self-obsessed and eager to take the easy way out. Give me a chance at enlightenment or re-runs of the “World’s Strongest Man” competition on ESPN 2, and guess which one I’ll take?

Have you seen how far they can throw a 400 lb. boulder?

I also know I am not alone in this problem.
I’m not sure what to do, but I have a little plan in the works. A step backwards, and a new beginning.
My first step will be to stop watching television to whatever extent I can get away from it – it’s to be trusted the least, as those who control it have the most to gain. (The internet can’t be trusted either, but for the opposite reason.)
Radio’s out too. Newspapers are hit and miss, but generally fall in line with the official view - not because they are liberal or conservative, but because there is no time and not enough people to do any real research or investigation anymore – it would cost too much, and a small profit is not enough to keep investors happy.

I can’t retreat into a box or join the monastery at this point, so what’s left?

Let’s start over at the beginning. I am going to start writing letters again. Real letters, sent by real U.S. mail, to each of you. I want to get back in touch, and not just a phone call or a mass e-mail. I want you to have something physical to open and touch and smell. Real communication. And we can work forward from there. Maybe we can visit. Sit down. Have a drink. Talk. Whatever.

This way, I can find out what’s really important. Maybe can build from there.

What do you think? Am I on the right track?
Let me know. The letters will start soon.

I love you all madly.

Brian

P.S. If you don’t think I have your address, you’re probably right. Pass it along, if you would.

Mine is : Brian Taylor, 410 W. Orman Ave. , Pueblo, Colo. 81004

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is
when we're kids? If you're less than ten years old, you're so excited
about aging that you think in fractions. How old are you?..."I'm four and a
half"...You're never 36 and a half...you're four going on five!

You get into your teens and they can't hold you back. You jump to the next
number. "I'm gonna be 16!" You could be 12, but you're gonna be 16!

And then the greatest day...you become 21! Even the words sound
ceremonial...you BECOME 21...yes!!!

But then you turn 30. Makes you sound like bad milk. He TURNED, we had to
throw him out. Fun's over.

What has happened? What's wrong? You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, and then
you're PUSHING 40! And then you REACH 50. But that's not near as
surprising as when you MAKE IT to 60. The real speed builds when you HIT 70!

And then it goes by a day thing. You might HIT Wednesday. You get into
your 80's you MAKE IT to lunch. Buying green bananas becomes a risk.

And then in the 90's you slip backwards. "I was just 92!"

Then strangely enough, if you make it over 100, you become a kid
again..."I'm 100 and a half!!!"

Not to mention the whole diaper thing.

Jared Ewy

I am going to go out on a limb on this one. I think Bert Jansch's "When I Get Home" is the best folk rock song ever and I will stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table in my cowboy boots and say it. It is witty, sublime, loaded with intricate guitar licks and interweavings, masterfully produced - it is it's own world.

Tony

Well, I wanted to hear about it before I commented, so I tracked down the original version of “When I Get Home” from Pentangle’s A Maid That’s Deep in Love.

I don’t know if that’s the one you’re listening to or not, but ……
It’s very good, but not that good.
Dylan’s 350-pound Jamaican bodyguard would not only throw you off of the table, but he would probably feel justified in stepping on your neck. Here are some of my non-Dylan favorites-

Eric Andersen – Blue River
David Crosby – The Wall Song
Byrds- Drug Store Truck Drivin’ Man
Richard Thompson – Dimming of the Day
Nick Drake – One of These Things First
Joni Mitchell – Big Yellow Taxi
Arlo Guthrie – Last Train

BT

OK, so perhaps it was just a mood I was in. That is the correct version of the song as Jansch got together with a few friends and formed Pentacle. It is a great rich song, but perhaps I got carried away. Oddly enough Dylan's bodyguard was fairly nice about the whole ordeal and barely a scratch could be observed on Bob's Italian coffee table. He said it was a fine song, but wanted me to elaborate on why I ranked it so highly. I left his Malibu home physical intact, but fairly confident that I had made a mistake in my assertion.
I have been listening to Disappear Fear's first album lately and I have to say I really like that. "Washington Work Song" is damn good song and Phil Ochs "Is there anybody" is a great cover (Folkhound got those two right). "The Missing Song" is a really beautiful ballad. Anyway, Vincent and I are off to a gathering in the woods, talk to you soon.

Love,

T

Just some food for thought,

Where is the IRS in all the ENRON, WORLD.COM and other accounting inflation corporations? Maybe if the large corporations had to actually pay taxes on their reported earnings instead of getting tax breaks, they wouldn't be so eager to dupe investors into thinking they were a thriving business. I think the government powers could stop the decline if they chose to. The finger pointing and going after the CEO's will discourage the accounting practice, but only shift the problem to another area rather than fix it. Your thoughts?

D.T.