Did a benefit for 826 mentoring program, a thing the Eggers started out of McSweeneys' storefront in San Francisco. This benefit is for a Brooklyn branch, where slightly older writers tutor and help young writers.
It's in a church in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I decide to do an short acoustic set rather than the karaoke gag that I'd originally suggested (singing along with a karaoke machine disc of Talking Heads songs). There are bunch of writers who will read and another musical act.
After the soundcheck, Danielle and I retire to Kristin's apt. (since I'm not on till round 10PM and I'm not sure I want to sit through all the readings, though I've heard Rick Moody read before and he was good), which is in the neighborhood. I feel like I'm being a little rude, but I am also in need of chilling out.
Kristin has a lovely backyard with a huge frog that lives in a tiny pond, and a dog with legs so short it can't go down the stairs.
The sound system plays the Clash and rockabilly.
Back at the church, a sort of alt country band plays after Susan Choi reads about her days with the Taliban(!). The band features writer/musicians – e.g.: David Gates, a film reviewer for Newsweek. They do a great version of "Is Anybody Going to San Antone?" And then they do a version of my (Talking Heads) song "Don't Worry About the Government." I almost don't recognize it as the chords seem the same but the melody has changed. It's transformed into a sweet, naïve country ballad-- "don't worry about me," I'll be alright in my new condo.
I begin my bit by reading from the online reports of the Rev. Moon crowning himself messiah at a ceremony in the U.S. Senate office building yesterday. A congressman brought the crown on a velvet cushion. Many senators and congressmen in attendance. Here is picture of the new Lord of the Universe. I particularly like the smirk — sort of like Bush's smirk.
This momentous and surreal event went completely unreported until a Salon reporter wrote about it. Now the congressmen are embarrassed and are coming up with all kinds of lame excuses to explain why they were there.
The words of Moon, from the Guardian:
"Emperors, kings and presidents...have declared to all heaven and Earth that Reverend Sun Myung Moon is none other than humanity's savior, messiah, returning Lord and true parent.
I am God's ambassador, sent to Earth with his full authority. I am sent to accomplish his command to save the world's six billion people.
The five great saints and other leaders in the spirit world, including communist leaders such as Marx and Lenin, who committed all manner of barbarity, and dictators such as Hitler and Stalin, have found strength in my teachings, mended their ways and been reborn as new persons."
He [Moon] claimed endorsement from Marx, Lenin, Stalin, and Hitler, who had all been reborn through his church's teachings — an idiosyncratic version of Christianity that rejects the use of the cross as a symbol and denounces homosexuals as "dirty, dung-eating dogs."
John Ashcroft had attended Moon's prayer meetings and he has lots of ties in the Bush administration.
It is not the first time he has claimed posthumous backing. His followers recently took out a two-page advertisement in the Washington Times (a conservative newspaper Moon owns, along with the UPI wire service) to run a testimonial to him, quoting 36 former presidents "from the vantage point of heaven."
A recent Times article about Korean finishing schools mentions that they apparently teach how to have the proper facial expressions in given situations (I doubt that Moon's smirk is correct, though). They also say they have to unschool the Korean girls who lived in the U.S. and show them how to walk. American walks are too "assertive."
I follow by singing a few country songs (Webb Pierce's "There Stands The Glass") and then auctioning off a pair of souvenir socks from the Gerald Ford library in Grand Rapids. They feature a presidential seal on the side. The bidding starts at 12 dollars and goes up to 35.
It's going well, the vocals soar beautifully in the church space, but I realize as I get near the end that I don't in fact have an "ending." I invite the drummer from the other band up to join m. He was sitting in a nearby pew. "I'll start and you join in when you see how it goes, it's real straightforward.” I begin "Life During Wartime" and he joins by the 1st verse! He follows incredibly well… and the audience is on its feet and we have an ending!
