Let it be known that I am not advocating for some kind of coup, staged under cloak of night, to the end of changing the legal status of the District of Columbia. That would be crazy.

Instead, I am advocating that you head out to the Black Cat Backstage tonight to see the band Statehood perform in support of their just-released record Lies & Rhetoric.

This will be the third or fourth time I have seen the band, which formed in 2006 and has been playing shows in the area fairly regularly. Each time, they have acted exactly like you want your new favorite local band to: enthusiastic and intense, but also modest and friendly at the same time. Bassist Eric Axelson, in particular, always seems so charming when he talks to the audience – presumably a blend of his years of rock-star on-stage nights* and a day job teaching children in a DC public school.

For those who have not yet had the pleasure of seeing them live or hearing the record, the sound is sort of angular and dance-punky, in a way that seems to show the maturity of the musicians behind it. Do you like bands such as Mission of Burma? Appreciate the inevitable (and fair) Dismemberment Plan comparisons? Ok, you will like Statehood. A lot.

What else were you going to do? Hang out with your family at home?**

Black Cat Backstage. November 21, 2007, 9pm. Satehood, with The Aquarium and Gary B & The Notions. $8

*Eric Axelson and drummer Joe Easley were famously members of perhaps my all-time favorite band, The Dismemberment Plan. That fact, and the inevitable comparisons has perhaps gotten more ink than Statehood’s own work, so I will leave that to others to discuss at length. Suffice it to say, yes, there are similarities, but they work for the band, and never come off as samey.

**Possible answers to this question: Let us say for a moment your tastes run more to the dance side than dance-punk. If so, you might want to check out Pho Real 2007 at FIVE. DJ Eleven will be there (among quite a slate of DJs), and is, for some reason, the only one of the three members of The Rub I have never seen live. If you go, let me know how that was.

Lonely this holiday? Dejected without a place or family with whom to have Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow? Mr. Smith’s of Georgetown, notable for its Tuesday half-price burgers, is offering $14.95 home-style roast turkey meals on Thanksgiving Day. Doesn’t that clipart look scrumptious? Be sure to tip generously — that’s a night of wait staff missing Thanksgiving so you Georgetowners can stuff yourselves with pilgrim fare.

Of course, the whole idea of a restaurant serving Thanksgiving turkey dinners is a novelty to me, and I’m only posting this particular one because their sign caught my eye, but if there are other places doing the same tomorrow, do let our readers know in the comments so they know where to go. Me, I’ll be with the in-laws up north.

This was Metro Center last night — a train on the Shady Grove side of the Red Line had apparently lost power and was emptied and pulled out of service at the very peak of rush hour, in the very middle of the whole system. If you look closely at the photo you’ll see that there are still people in the darkened train. From where I stood it looked like they might have had a bit of a time getting the doors open. “Moderate” delays would cascade to the rest of the Red Line for about half an hour afterward. And now this morning, the alerts are scrolling messages on a train with “mechanical difficulties” at Medical Center causing single-tracking and delays in both directions.

I’m just not sure what’s up with Metro lately. I remember a time back in 2004 when I was so fed up with Metro that I resolved to walk the three miles to work everyday till I heard things had gotten better — which, happily, they did during the reign of Dan Tangherlini. Since then, it’s been downhill again, almost back to the breaking point it was at three years ago. I’m starting to think there’s something to Disaffected Scanner Jockey’s analogy to the Ford Pinto.

Here’s something we just don’t see as often as we used to in DC: LaRouchies handing out their Master’s literature, singing baroque choruses and casting the requisite aspersions on Cheney, Gore, Rohatyn, and the British monarchy. The night I took this photo it was just one guy, giving out EIR magazines muttering something about Pelosi and the British.

Not all has been well in the strange, conspiracy-ridden world of Lyndon Larouche since the head of his print house tragically jumped off a bridge last April, driven to suicide by an internal memo castigating the organization’s “boomer” followers for lacking the vision of his youth movement’s wide-eyed, wild-eyed younger members. Comrade Lyn is getting old, not running for president this year, barely able to keep his cult together as he rails against the internet for leading his flock astray.

This of course bodes quite well for those of us who are tired of seeing those “Sexual Congress of Cultural Fascism” and “Al Gore – the Naked Truth about Global Warming” blowup sandwich boards and “card table shrines” at schools, Metro entrances, protest marches, and along Connecticut Ave NW. As that particular herd wises up, thins out, and loses ever more funding, the DC streets stand to gain some respite from at least one source of incessant conspiratorial catastrophist ranting.

If you like rubbernecking this particular train wreck as much as I do, you’ll love these links:

• “Publish and Perish” – Avi Klein’s Washington Monthly article
• Scott McLemee’s InsideHigherEd profile of the LYM
• FACTNet message board for former LaRouche followers
• The LaRouche Challenge
• Larouche Watch
• Journalist Chip Berlet’s LaRouche collection
• Kenneth Kronberg Memorial
• Talking to Lyndon LaRouche’s Youth Movement

Wayan’s DC Photos

If you are leaving for Thanksgiving tonight from National Airport, do not fret about security lines. There are none.

Betrothed Butterbean and I waltzed right up to the TSA security theatre, who prompty yanked my love out of line for an expired license.

After a tearfull repose we arrived at the gate just it time to find our flight two hours delayed.

At least I have a drink and am wearing the right shirt.

SCOTUSBlog reports that – somewhat to the surprise of some people who think the Roberts-led court avoids doing anything of substance – the Supremes have indeed agreed to hear DC’s appeal on the ruling that struck down the gun ban. So, if you were waiting at the city limits with an arsenal you planned on taking home today, tough.

The hearing will be sometime in March and given the level of interest this has for both sides of the gun debates (if you can call two sides screaming at each other while completely ignoring each other a ‘debate’) you might want to start camping out for a place in line, oh, around now.

There was music, there was juggling, there was magic, there were Lite-brites and Warhol and collage and Marilyn Monroe and beads and Charlie Chaplin and festive hats and a generally fun time at the grand opening of the Kogod Courtyard at the Smithsonian Reynolds Center. My wife and I sauntered over there Sunday after church to check out the new space, expecting a quiet, laid-back afternoon promenade with some light jazz, maybe. We were pleasantly surprised to find a party in full swing: lots of families with kids, and various crafts tables all over the place, as well as free Target-sponsored animal crackers, candy, and cider. Those guys know how to sponsor the arts, I must say.

Hats were an especially prominent feature: the “Festive Hat Design” table was swamped with eager decorators, adorning simple cardboard headwear with everything from flowers and glitter to clever political commentary (i.e. the word “BUSH” under a wobbly house of playing cards).

Of course, the courtyard itself is an architectural marvel. The new undulating skylight gives a sensation of expansiveness and volume that one would miss from just an unroofed space. I do wish I could have seen this courtyard in its pre-renovation days, however; a friend tells me that two ancient sycamores used to grow there, and the hard, gray pavement could use a bit more greenery. I look forward to seeing this space after Opening Day, when the tables are gone and the “water effects” are finally active.

Eye Level, the official American Art Museum weblog, had live coverage and photos of yesterday’s events at the Reynolds Center, and we do invite you to share your own photos and experiences from there in the comments and the DC Metroblogging photo pool.

Nice parking job, asshat.

Originally uploaded by tbridge.

If you wonder why I hate DC cabbies, look no further than this empty Executive Cab parked in front of a fire hydrant right on Dupont Circle. There are some rules that are so completely universal, I lose all sympathy for people who break them. This is one: Never, ever, ever block a fire hydrant. Ever.

It’s just lame. I dont care if the cab stand at Jurys was full, you don’t just block a fire hydrant, slam it in park and walk off to get a coffee.

Here’s hoping you enjoy that giant ticket.

Giant Rat

Originally uploaded by tbridge.

Wednesday night, as Tiff and I were driving to a birthday dinner at Liberty Tavern, we heard this piece on NPR about our favorite group of homeless people employed as protestors. My favorite section of the article was this one:

Most people who pass the picket line don’t look closely at the protesters. Diego Castaneda, a doctoral student from California, snaps a picture of a marcher and gives her a thumbs up.

“I just like seeing people demonstrating and standing up for their rights,” Castaneda said.

But when I tell him the protesters are actually homeless people, his face falls.

“Are you serious?” he says in disbelief. “It’s pretty disingenuous of the union to hire people who aren’t carpenters.”

Yep, folks, it’s pretty shady to hire folks for $8 an hour to protest when your union members won’t actually protest themselves. Not listed in the story page on NPR’s site was the original postscript when the reporter, Frank Langfitt, asked the workers about their wages, and they wanted more money.

He suggested they formed a union.

The always awesome SCOTUSBlog has a post up talking about the cases the Supremes will likely decide whether or not to hear on the 30th. We’ve talked about the DC gun ban potentially coming before them, but there’s another local case with potentially nationwide implication: a Baltimore incident that will dictate how far into your ass crack the cops can dig around without a warrant.

Docket: 07-284
Case name: Maryland v. Paulino
Issue: Whether the Fourth Amendment permits police to search for drugs hidden between a suspect’s buttocks cheeks during an arrest.

The text of the Maryland Court of Appeals decision – which as it stands says that a man (or woman’s) buttcrack is their castle – is interesting reading if you have a tolerance for lawtalk. From a citizen’s standpoint it’s interesting that apparently the law is pretty well established about whether the cops can snake their hand in your underthings: they can. The dissent authored by Judge Lynne Battaglia talk about a “reach-in” search and the plethora of cases saying that’s okay, so long as some modicum of your privacy is maintained.

The second dissent by Judge Dale Cathell is interesting simply because it reveals what a jerk he is.

I join Judge Battaglia’s dissent an d would further hold that when a person wears their
pants below the level of their buttocks, he or she is intentionally offering that area for
observation by the public and obviously has no expectation of privacy sufficient to prohibit
a police officer from also looking.

If a person wants to have an expectation of privacy in that area of his or her body, he or she should keep their pants up when in public.

It is my sincere hope that someday Judge Cathell has his sweatpants dip down a little too low and gets an anal probing from Officer Rubberglove. The suggestion that someone should reasonably expect to have their crack pried open just because they make poor fashion choices is just obnoxious.