Elvis L., CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
Featuring the Fabulous Dadbots
Mark Mamerow, Dave S., Mark O., Dennis Curley, and Geoff Carter
Kremlin.ru, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Hey Bots,
Check this out:
Singing Putin: Blueberry Hill
Strong and attractive…
Mark M.
Martial law!! Karaoke!! We must take Blueberry Hill!!
–Geoff
The Daily Kos: Back in 1982 I was dealing acid at Jim Morrison’s grave and that’s when I first met Vladimir Putin
This is a few years dated but interesting and bittersweet. Apparently, Vlad really is/was a fine musician.
–Mark O.
Thanks, Mark. This was an eyebrow-raiser, a real WTF? moment. Putin sitting in the grass serenading Jim Morrison’s ghost while a steady stream of Norwegian hippies stream by to purchase blotter? Putin thumping out a version of “Cinnamon Girl” or crooning “After the Gold Rush”? Putin as the “Sunshine Superman”? Somebody’s tripping.
But then, the Daily Kos is a reputable blog—I would assume they abide (dude) by some sort of journalistic standards. Of course, so was Rolling Stone (reputable, I mean) during Hunter S. Thompson’s heyday when they published his chemically enhanced ramblings. Is this Putin article real? Could it have happened? If not, it also begs the question, if this piece isn’t journalism, what is it—and, more pertinently, why is it here? What is the author trying to do? Elicit sympathy for this monster?
Was—is—Putin a victim of his circumstances, a young man sucked into a system that made him a spy and a killer? Is he a tortured artist? (Or, after listening to his karaoke piece, maybe he’s taken audio torture to another, more painful, level—sound boarding?).
This took place in the early eighties, not far removed from our own days of chemical experimentation and excessive acoustic strumming. Vlad could very easily have been one of us, that exchange student from next door in Sellery Hall or that intense guy in our French class that we hung out with at Union South. I like to think that we’ve retained at least a grain of our youthful idealism—and I think the Bots generally have—but was Putin really like us in our youth? Would he have gone with Mamerow and myself to Merlin’s to see U2? (Yes, we were there). Did he really used to be an okay guy? I think the more probable explanation is that, like most successful sociopaths—re Bundy, Dahmer, or John Wayne Gacy—he was able to mask his true self with a convincing and elaborate façade that he’s since shed. Or that he was under deep cover and working for the KGB. In either case, the portrait of the sensitive young artist is bullshit. Or the article is a flashback-induced romp down memory lane.
Who knows? But this piece, whatever else it might be, is provocative. I’ll never look at Neil Young the same way again.
–Geoff
Wow, MarkO, really great find on the story about Vlad’s youthful hippie days busking in Europe. Intriguing and like you said “bittersweet”—picturing the young Vlad Putin playing Neil Young songs for tips in a Paris subway station—ready to defect until that fateful acid trip. I’m ready to believe it. But does the rather bizarre YouTube clip Mamerow sent give the lie to the tale? Is Putin so adept at deep cover that he can cleverly disguise his alleged awesome musical talent by croaking out a hackneyed version of Blueberry Hill in front of the Hollywood glitterati? (What was that event anyway?) I’m not sure his ego would allow that.
And now I’m thinking about Putin’s giant ego and about Mark’s comments re. “weak in flab body”—and I’m having a little flight-of-fancy about how to end the war. It’s a crazy idea.” But, by golly, it’s so crazy it just might work,” you guys chime in.
Anyway, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the warrior mythology of “champion warfare”—in which the outcome of a conflict is determined by “single combat”–-a dramatic duel between champions chosen from each opposing army. The David and Goliath story from the Bible is the classic example. And lo, here we have our own David, a champion triathlete in Putin’s age bracket.
In some kind of Mission Impossible set-up involving a femme fatale and a black-tie cocktail party Putin is manipulated into thinking he will be hailed by all as the most heroic, strong, and attractive world leader ever if he agrees that the outcome of the war shall be determined by single combat between him and Dave. The weapon of choice, odd as it may seem, is bicycles. Putin loves the idea of a bicycle dual; he thinks of all sorts of classically devious Soviet methods to cheat. Montage: Vlad in the Russian Olympian doping labs, holding up test tubes, slapping a guy in a lab coat, injecting a fluorescent green concoction into his thigh… Putin in an electronics factory fitting tiny motors to his bicycle’s hubs and cranks, etc, etc… Fade to montage of Dave on his Trek, training on the roads through the bucolic Wisconsin countryside, stopping by a family farm, a smiling family serving him a wholesome glass of milk….
Anyway, you get the idea. Putin’s schemes to win at single combat by cheating are foiled, Dave wins the race, and world peace ensues!
–Dennis Curley
Brilliant, Dennis. Absolutely brilliant. Dave, you have a big job. Vlad probably believes he’ll be up against Lance Armstrong. Little does he know he’ll be competing against an athlete unaltered (at least physically) by wildly uncontrolled substances. A metaphoric duel between a bloated Russian bear and an American Eagle—I’m reminded a little of Carlos Castaneda’s bruja blackbird… You got this, Dave…
–Geoff
I have only one thing to say about the Paris story: “Mushrooms…. it’s hard to get the dosage right.”
Dennis, you’re onto something. But I was thinking. As an alternative to the biking duel, maybe Vlad could go mano-a-mano musically against say… Kid Rock, or Toby Keith (those are the 2 most patriotic pop stars I can conjure up)… It would be like “The Devil Came Down to Georgia”. But instead of winning the golden fiddle, the winner would achieve hegemony over Ukraine.
Couple more thoughts on the Ukraine bizness. McDonald’s is closing its 850 restaurants in Russia. Thereby implementing a “No Fry” zone.
Funny, right? Ha ha. But it gets scary when you consider Tom Friedman’s Golden Arches theory: “The theory points out that no two countries that both have McDonalds franchises have ever gone to war. ” This is a perfect Friedman-ism. Catchy and glib, with a tiny grain of truth. With the McD’s in Russia all closed, are we heading for WWIII?
(Note: the above two observations are not original. Hijacked off Twitter.)
Don’t get me started on Thomas Friedman. Like most sentient beings who lean left, I hold a visceral contempt for the utter pomposity of his windbaggery. During W’s Iraq War, he appeared multiple times on pundit shows over the course of a couple of years, always asserting that “the next six months” were the most critical, and that staying the course for that length of time—the Friedman Unit—would turn the tide in America’s favor. Back in those days, hilarious videos of these multiple proclamations could be viewed. Can’t find ’em anymore, alas…
–Mark M.