The Fredösphere

Today's post begins by belatedly reacting to a couple of excellent recent comments.  First, M. C- of The Standing Room points out he was the first to suggest that Ned Rorem's 40-year-old diaries seem very bloggish.  Mister Cee, I must confess I remember reading at least a bit of that article; I don't think I got so far as your diary=blog line, and I can at least promise you I didn't consciously steal your idea, but the whole situation leaves me uneasy.  Anyway, let credit go to whom it is due:  yue!

Next, M. Gable of Aworks found a fun (but salty) anti-blues rant to compliment mine.  Of course, if I really believed what I wrote about the blues, I'd be guilty of letting my personal tastes spoil my critical judgment.  As it is, I have no critical judgment, so there's nothing to spoil.  In any case, the truth is, I'm looking for certain things in music to satisfy me, and the blues is one genre that is simply missing those things.  It's missing those things by design, but that doesn't do me any good.

Finally, I'd like to follow up on yesterday's ringing endorsement of Der Ring.  Some of you may remember I have agreed with those who complain about Wagner's long-windedness; I have not changed my mind, and I'd like to assert out there is no contradiction in the various things I've said about Wagner, good or ill.  Furthermore, although the plot of Der Ring loses it's way in the fourth opera, as the fascinating Wotan recedes and the dull, witless Siegfried takes over (an idiot-savant, without the savant), I really admire the earlier treatment of Wotan, who struggles with the question of legitimacy in the exercise of power.

It is his subtle exploration of this complex issue that tells us Wagner is a much, much more thoughtful artist than, for example, Gerry Anderson, the creator of the Thunderbirds Are Go series.  Let's overlook for now the series' technical shortcomings, primarily the mechanical puppets who were unable to walk convincingly and who therefore spend most of their time sitting on their respective butts. (And here let us also insert the obligatory joke about the "wooden" acting).  Instead, I want to consider the weakness of the underlying scenario:  the super-rich mastermind Jeff Tracy controls a fleet of super-advanced jet rescue craft that can negotiate air, sea, and space.  Tracy alone is the one who gets to decide when a crisis is sufficiently severe to launch the craft -- to announce pompously, "Thunderbirds are go!"  Now, think about it:  these craft, piloted by his five sons whose loyalty is to him alone, are invulnerable to the war-making ability of any nation on earth.  It is absurd that Jeff Tracy is somehow immune to the corrupting influence of the power he possesses.  That he would be sucked into the great political conflicts of the day would be inevitable, as would be efforts by various governments to influence him.  I think it would be only a matter of time until Tracy would find himself saying something like:  "tell the Belgian prime minister that those chocolates he sent over are not up to his usual standards!  He better send me more, or he can forget about me suppressing that Walloon uprising!"