Idle Thoughts On Pop Songs And The Seasons

strong men create good times
good times create weak men
weak men create bad times
bad times create strong men


June Carter, He Don’t Love Me Anymore. What’s alien in that c. 1955 video is the everyday on-air interaction between the good-natured host and his firecracker starlet guest, the young June Carter. If you imagine having a country of your own in which your public space — in this case television airwaves — belongs to you, you might envision something a bit like that exchange in which he introduces her and they pick on each other a bit.

America was a house with many rooms. One of those rooms was Appalachian hillbilly culture, perhaps one closest to my heart on account of the melodious regional accent. It’s no wonder that this is where Tom Wolfe looked for inspiration in creating the Charlotte Simmons character. And it’s no wonder that Johnny Cash fell in love with June. I once said:

[She] is a vision. Like just about every young woman, she has those little imperfections that modesty makes irresistible… That thing I said earlier about modest attire amplifying a cute girl’s attractiveness…

The decade, with its relaxed ways, was America’s summer. But every summer has its storm clouds. Vivian Liberto, first wife of then-drug addled Johnny Cash and mother of his four daughters, writes about a confrontation in which June said to her, “Vivian, he will be mine.” The rest of the story is Johnny and June growing old together. Do you believe in love?


Angelo Badalamenti, Laura Palmer’s Theme. It’s simple and reminiscent of Erik Satie’s compositions. A bright moment happens at 1:00, a key change. Brett Favre, in the twilight of his career, was asked about his favorite football memories. He said that it’s not the championships or the victories, it’s those times just having fun with the guys in the locker room or wherever. That answer rang true with me. And there is a flip side to that — you also remember those quiet moments alone.

One such inexplicably indelible moment for me was during Army training in San Antonio, Texas in the early 1990s. Our platoon slept in a large bay with two rows of bunk beds. Listening to a local radio station on my Walkman before drifting off to sleep after lights-out, I heard a song from the Twin Peaks soundtrack. It was “Falling” with Julee Cruise.

The early 1990s was a supernova burst of American creativity, all of it animated by the dream of a world that had flickered just out of reach and then disappeared forever. Autumn is elegiac and it is the one season I’d never give away.


George Michael, Praying for Time. It would be nice if the great song were written and performed by a godly man, but that’s not what happened. It was created by a faggot who got busted at an airport toilet stall. It’s a lesson in humility for everyone, but also in hope, when a man so flawed he makes you look clean teaches you something. “Listen without prejudice” means that it’s okay to judge after listening.

Whether you’re Georgios Panayiotou or someone less cursed, you have your cross to bear. He had his, homosexuality. I have mine, a light one. The pretty girl I used to know who was diagnosed with an awful illness at 21 had hers. Maybe you have yours.

Listen to the song’s despairing, nihilistic lyrics. Keep what works for you, discard what doesn’t. Whatever George Michael was thinking of when he wrote it in 1989, it speaks to me now.

It’s hard to love, there’s so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it’s much too late
Well, maybe we should all be praying for time

The girl I mentioned, she told me about the diagnosis that took place a few years earlier and I told her that we all have our cross to bear. After all of that, I met with her dad. He looked like a wreck. He said, “So you’re the ‘PA’ that she talked so much about.” It was a sad moment when I handed him her stuff. He signed a couple of forms where I told him I need his signature.


Johnny Cash, Children, Go Where I Send TheeWalk The Line (2005) lied about two things. One, the movie blamed Vivian for the failure of her and Johnny’s marriage. Two, it was silent on the greatest part of Johnny’s career, his Christian music. Yet the film had several good moments, the best one being when Johnny’s disgusted father Ray Cash says:

You’re sittin’ on a high horse, boy. I never had talent, I did the best I could with what I had. Can you say that? Mister big shot, mister pill poppin’ rock star. Who are you to judge, you ain’t got nothin’, big empty house, nothin’, children you don’t see, nothin’, big ol’ expensive tractor stuck in the mud, nothin’.

In the movie, that was Johnny’s rock bottom moment after which he changed his life. “Children, Go Where I Send Thee” is the best interpretation of the American Evangelical spirit in popular music. Johnny would have made a fine Marine Corps drill instructor calling cadence. It’s a fantastic performance, featuring an older June Carter and the other Carter family ladies, the Statler Brothers, and Carl Perkins. Under their captain’s command, they sing like victors.

34 thoughts on “Idle Thoughts On Pop Songs And The Seasons

  1. Pingback: Idle Thoughts On Pop Songs And The Seasons | Reaction Times

  2. “Autumn is elegiac and it is the one season I’d never give away.”

    The transitional period between autumn and winter is a time when music can be heard more fully. The glacial eye-white of longing’s pianoforte blizzard in hiding; memory’s cidery marrows suddenly a special reserve blend dry-hopped in the wind and polishing rapt elevation’s ivory keys. This period crowns the official seasons, and without it music would never be made!

  3. Autumn is elegiac and it is the one season I’d never give away.

    Every year, this time of year (that we’re in right now) is my favourite time. As I saw somebody write elsewhere, I find that at this time of year the veil between this world and Another World is at its thinnest; there’s something palpably spiritual in the air. Doubtless that’s why the pagans established their holiday at this time.

    That is perhaps why for a long while now, ever since I’ve reached that age where the seasons seem to tick by in a terrible, ever-faster tempo, I always long for this season to last just a little… bit… longer, so I can savour a little more of it. Never seems to happen, though.

  4. The 4-part BBC documentary from 2003,

    Lost Highway: the story of country music

    is mostly up on yourube and has a lot of footage from the old days.

  5. Walk the Line was a great film. The actor who played Johnny’s father is Robert Patrick who is legend. He had a big part in Soprano’s Season II as the “degenerate gambler” with the sporting good store who gets busted out to pay his debts to Tony.

    The quoted scene above in the original post is well selected. Much father-and-son theme there!

  6. “Where were you?”

    That’s how Johnny Cash responds to his dad’s criticism above, is it not?

    Or am I mis-remembering the dialogue. As I recall in that same scene his dad is blaming him for his brother’s death, and so Johnny asks where were you? the answer being that dad wasn’t there because he was drunk or otherwise MIA.

  7. I got some (very) minor family problems going on today. Specifically an impressionable young girl is being taken to a theatre production play, which play is about hip hop.

    That’s about all that I know, except and also that it’s being put on by a very big production value place. Outside of NY and a couple other wherever else places, it’s one of the premiere children’s theatres, and this particular production is about hip hop. That’s all I know.

    I warned them that it would not promoting the values that we want to encouraged, but they brushed it off with the typical (boomer) let’s-pretend nonsense “it’s not about that.”

    We shall see. The play will certainly be featuring young niggers in heroic coming-of-age roles, and the audience will be like 99.9999999 UMC White kids. It’s outrageous, obviously. Those tickets are not cheap, and the whole production is lavishly funded and subsidized.

    This times we’re livin in eh?

    Sorry to problem post.

  8. Last problem post for now, I swear. Here is from the local rag write-up of the theatre production in question.

    “We’ve all felt dislocated or in situations where we’re uncomfortable because we don’t know what the rules are,” said Brosius. “And sometimes we experience the world the way [the Afro Cuban kid protagonist] CJ does, which initially is to judge and reject it. But then we find a way to commingle and join the group, and that joy is so big.”

    That sounds like a metaphor for something. To invoke another great songwriting team, Philadelphia’s Gamble and Huff, perhaps a love train.

    In their own words, the play is a metaphor for joining the group in a love train.

    In their own words.

    Any hostiles reading this might ask, what’s wrong with a love train?

    Apologies for the off topic.

  9. About that theater play: Nigger Fatigue vs Class Conformity

    Ray Cash, Johnny’s father from It says that the photo was uploaded by Cindy Cash, who is Johnny and Vivian’s daughter:

  10. — The transitional period between autumn and winter is a time when music can be heard more fully. (EPG)

    — I find that at this time of year the veil between this world and Another World is at its thinnest; there’s something palpably spiritual in the air. (S.J.)

    I agree.

  11. — The transitional period between autumn and winter is a time when music can be heard more fully. (EPG)

    I’m gonna have to leave this south to (fully) appreciate music for the 1st time, then. LOL

  12. — I’m gonna have to leave this south to (fully) appreciate music for the 1st time, then.

    I’ll never truly understand the South and Southwest in one regard: how can you live without the seasons? specifically, a real autumn and winter. One reason I moved to Boston in ’98 was to go farther north in terms of winters. Charleston SC was my other option at the time but the year-round warm climate made that a non-starter.

  13. — Excellent choices

    Thanks James. Of the four songs linked in the original post, I click/play “Praying for Time” the most. Is it that particular artist’s personal angst that led to such a good album, or was there something magical about the very early 1990s that generated so many intelligent, passionate songs?

  14. how can you live without the seasons?

    Agreed; it’s nearly impossible for me to grasp the idea of hwyte people living where it doesn’t snow. As you say, I like the *idea* of the South, Southern culture, etc., but I’ll tell you, I was in Texas once, around Christmastime, doing some CAMPING(!) at a park near the Mexico border, and the temperature was the same as a mild summer day back home. I guess you get used to what you grow up with.

  15. Yeah, I had to leave the south before the seasons were adequately pronounced to my liking. Each one puts in an excellent showing around Colorado; spent a lot of time on mountain terrain outside of Boulder. But what the south lacks in actual seasons, they make up for in potency of experience. The outré stations of an ever-revived spirit. If New Orleans had all the seasons it would be too good to be true.

  16. Jim of the Fatherland, now deceased, said that every American has to go to New Orleans or else he doesn’t get to talk about it. He also said that there a “miasma” down there that can cause health problems up to an including death.

    New Orleans was a super hot town city to go to and do the Swapple thing. See for example Trent Reznor; other examples. But even that trend has run its course. Or has it?


    The hot ticket item in the Dissident Right this weekend appears to be the jew york times bitch-of-the-day Amy Harmon and her article Why White Supremacists Are Chugging Milk (and Why Geneticists Are Alarmed).

    So Ms Harmon [any relation to gen x moviestar Mark? whatever happened to him anywaze; he was actually People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive right after Mel Gibson won that same coveted spot; Harmon sounds like a good Old American name] — so Ms Harmon presumes to answer us that so important question of “Why”. Such presumption and right there in the article’s title.

    That device of telling people “Why” something matters, and “what” they are to think of it, is so ever NPC — and they don’t even know it!

    VDare has a good write-up on the bitch-of-the-day, as does Sailer.

    Actually though the point of this comment, is that Sailer’s write-up is NOT good. It’s the opposite of good: it’s bad.

    And why is it bad? because it takes her seriously. One of his commenters, eah, asks Sailer simply:

    What exactly is your point? — with these bemused replies to the idiotic articles by this halfwit ‘feelz’ woman — not sneering, not belittling, never really saying directly that she’s simply wrong — or more importantly, that her brand of ‘journalism’, aimed at morally shaming Whites for their ‘supremacy’, is disgusting and harmful to the interests of Whites and white countries — aimed at disarming Whites in the face of what is an existential threat to their countries and the future of their children.

  17. I don’t have the background nor the time nor the inclination to parse out and hashtag how those disingenious bitches-of-the-day are misrepresenting science by twisting it with bad faith arguments.

    Doing that is tiresome.

    So we got ten different species of mosquitos that live in your backyard but people are all the same.

    And in order to refute this argument we need to go back Plato or something and come to a consensus about what it means to agree, and what it means to disagree, and what it means to even figure out what exactly is the point of contention?

    The days of good faith argumentation, where we try to explain to [whomever] that a People itself gets to decide things that matter, and … it’s all so tiresome.

    Where is the place where Arguments and Questions can be showcased in what passes for an honest debate.

    Hey, how google hangouts?

    Who gets to be the representative of White Americans in these debates.

    It’s interesting that now that the technology exists for open forum debate, we can’t even manage to set one up. It’s not really our fault, because no one from the other side is willing to step up onto a neutral stage. And on our side, there are still consequences for ‘coming out’.

  18. On the CH front, Matt King said this about the host there and his epistemology:

    You don’t need a permission slip from the science dorks to define the “real.” You don’t have to worship a “god of biomechanics” in lieu of visible au th or ity. You can just declare like a boss that the bitch looks funny. That will do it. Supplicants seek justifications and rationales in terms their masters appreciate. Alphas declare what Is.

  19. — What exactly is your point? — with these bemused replies to the idiotic articles by this halfwit ‘feelz’ woman

    Seconded. I’ve had the “you’re a better man than me, Steve” feeling because he’s able to consistently parse that stuff without being carried away by anger. But yeah, where does it lead? More “normies” or closeted Righties in high places to be converted?

  20. — What exactly is your point? — with these bemused replies to the idiotic articles by this halfwit ‘feelz’ woman

    Seconded. I’ve had the “you’re a better man than me, Steve” feeling because he’s able to consistently parse that stuff without being carried away by anger.

    Sailer’s work in documenting the new generation of “journalists” is important because the NYT was once the flagship newspaper for our entire country – and still commands a HUGE following and large sway outside the United States. Probably even as late as 2000 or so most of us wouldn’t have taken issue with much of its content.

    And we’ve got to have core Conservative Americans not yet realizing that the media no longer cares about traditional American people or values – a lot of old timers are still assuming that journalism is “free and fair” and unbiased – but Trump is throwing back the curtain on that.

    And you also have to realize that the NYT is the primary mouthpiece of our biggest enemies – (((media))), Hollywood and globalist entertainment and globalist economics. Right now the Democratic Party is pretty much indistinguishable from all of these entities, they could very easily merge into one big snowflake mishmash.

    And understanding (social) media is also important since it’s the only thing that actually unites our enemies – think about it, what do New York media czars, Michael Brown, Muslim migrants, border jumper Latinos, rich, effete cosmopolitan types, single mammy welfare recipients, trannies and childless, Swapple,kale-eating, PC-crazed whites really have in common because griping about their fanciful “oppression” tales about “white patriarchy”?


    For our enemies social media is functional as the human fabric that we get from other places – family, religion, shared social values, etc.

  21. And I don’t know about you guys, but I can say that I had my own personal alt-right awakening seeing the insane media coverage of Duke Lacrosse starting in 2006.

    I felt like I suddenly woke up in the matrix and screamed out loud only to look around and see those who should’ve been our best, early vanguard soldiery still not seeing the writing on the wall yet, while going on with their daily lives without noticing…

  22. Check out the new, future award-winning documentary Transformer.

    It’s “white supremacy” goes “radical sexual autonomy.”

  23. Steve’s been choppin’ wood for longer than most shitlords on teh tweeter have been alive. He’s been doing it for some 25 years, and from all appearances would like to keep doing it for 25 more. He’s not in it for Civil War. Never has been.

  24. I, for one, hope it doesn’t it come to a hot Civil War. You think you’ll be fighting the Diverse? I severely doubt it. We’ll be fighting bubble-brain-washed cucks that like, in everything else, do all the heavy-lifting on the Diverse’ behalf.

    Imagine The Great War being fought not against a Free Sh*t Army, but for the Free Sh*t Army’s right to sh*t.

  25. Yes… But the issue is that Sailer, McDonald, Taylor and such were the original “race-realists” to the bulk of future alt-writers and still slumbering normies. Now the issue is that none of the above recognize “white supremacy” as being CENTRAL to the radical liberationist’s fluidly volatile identity. And it simply does not matter one iota that Sailer, McDonald, Taylor, Linder, Derbyshire, Spencer, Anglin, Vox Day, alt-writers and normies ALL DENY up and down to being “white supremacists” because the radical only needs its liberated imagination and the fully-submissive compliance towards its frame of “white supremacy” by the entire political spectrum.

    The hard reality is that as radical as is the most leftist self-annihilator — it being a thousand steps away — it has nothing on the race-realist alt-writer only a mere step away. This latter scenario is incredibly radical. Sailer, McDonald and Taylor represent the high-mindedness of white male race-realists stuck at the last step before wS.

    One day soon… Millions of white males will take the last step and reject their submissive radicalism.

  26. Van Morrison’s “Cyprus Avenue” is what immediately came to mind when my idle thoughts drifted to winter pop songs! The rock critic Lester Bangs had some very strong feelings about this song, as I recall.

  27. While I’m here, I should mention that another great winter song is “Moonlight Mile” by the Rolling Stones, which features prominently at the end of one of the greatest episodes of The Sopranos.

    Cheers, all!

  28. Another Winter reply: the scene in Sopranos when Tony S. is obligated to take out his cousin, Tony B., upon the orders of Phil Leotardo (formerly Leonardo, back in the old country. But bastardized upon arrival at Ellis Island).

    Note that the shotgun he employs is an Ithaca 37. The same model was gifted to me on my sixteenth birthday by my Grandfather, The great thing about the pre-1970s 37s is that they are capable of “slam-fire,’ which means that when you hold down the trigger it will fire after every pump!

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