Plague Journal, Snow
Snow last night. It is well that snow imposes a stillness upon all activity. A still mind, like an unblemished surface of fresh snow is a gift. There is much in the course of human affairs, tortured and neurotic, — we are a troubled mammal unlike our cousins (rabbits, raccoons, etc.) without language or culture.
I heard a fragment of a network news report on the truthfulness of statements spoken by President Biden this past week. According to a source 3 out of 30 statements were ambiguous, partially true. I would give the President an A grade on truthfulness, compared with the last four years of former President Trump. Trump was a fountain of fabrication, and misrepresentation. In Trump world no standard, other than whatever President Trump wished to say, was a measure of truth.
And this, a further provocation to sober reflection. From The Guardian:
Hilton Valentine, founding guitarist of the 60s group the Animals and the man responsible for one of the most famous intros in pop history, has died aged 77.
A founding member and original guitarist of the Animals, Valentine was a pioneering guitar player influencing the sound of rock and roll for decades to come.
The band’s most famous song, a cover version of the blues standard The House Of The Rising Sun, topped the charts in the UK and the US in 1964.
Valentine is credited with coming up with the song’s famous arpeggio introductory riff, although it was initially rejected as a single by the band’s producer, Mickie Most, because it was thought the four-and-a-half minute track was too long.
But their treatment of the song, regarded as one of the inspirations for Bob Dylan going electric in 1965, has entered the annals of rock history, with the intro familiar over the decades to millions of budding guitarists around the world.
Rest in peace my brother. Your music continues to change the world.
The House Of The Rising Sun
By Eric Burdon and The Animals
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I’m one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
My father was a gamblin’ man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he’s satisfied
Is when he’s on a drunk
[Organ Solo]
Oh mother, tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I’m goin’ back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I’m one