So I am going to recommend three good local "Boy Bands", and I am referring to these bands as "Boy Bands" in a futuristic sense. About ten or fifteen or twenty years from now (Good Goddess, will it really take that much longer?) most bands will be fully integrated with women instrumentalists ("Wow, SHE'S a kick-ass guitarist" will be commonly heard) as well as vocalists, and people of all stripes, colors, ages and ethnicities. At that point, a band made up only of men will be an anomaly, and thus called a "Boy Band" as we do now with those very rare "Girl Bands" in existence.
For fun and dancing and virtuoso musicianship when you can catch them, local super group Giant Kings plays Lizard Lounge in Cambridge and other venues. Next chance is Lizard Lounge on St. Paddy's Wednesday and the two Wednesdays following. Really excellent musicians, R&B/Soul covers of tunes previously covered by the likes of the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Wilson Pickett, Elvis Costello, Dr. John and even Frank Sinatra. Tight rhythm section, virtuosity throughout--look especially for Duke Levine's grittier guitar solos and Kevin Barry's slide guitar. And personally, I love the Baritone and Tenor sax riffs. Not to mention Chris Cote's soulful vox and reeeelaxed hosting. Just got to dance!
http://www.lizardloungeclub.com/main.html
To get on a notification email list, contact guitarist/band leader Duke Levine through MySpace. http://www.myspace.com/dukelevine
Thursday nights at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge, catch another boy band, the Chicken Slacks, with horns, keys and a really great lead singer, Durand "Diamond D" Wilkerson. Be prepared to be squashed by the mostly young college kids, and don't let them knock you right into one of the band's monitors, as almost happened to me one night. This is a very popular weekly Cambridge event. But the set list is great for dancing, and hey, maybe a little squashing is good for your health. Old school soul and R&B, mostly up-tempo, perfect for lifting your spirits on a dreary March evening, or when some girl or guy has really let you down (worked for me, anyway!) http://www.cantab-lounge.com/index.html
Here is their myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/chickenslacks
For outdoor fun during warmer weather, check out The Peasants in Harvard Square. This is Pete Cassani's baby, and he is the writer of some really great tunes, including my favorite, Frat Boy. Listen to the lyrics carefully. They are hilarious, and pretty damned accurate. In The Peasants, lead guitarist Pete always plays with a bass player/back-up vocalist (these days Dave Lieb) and a drummer (varies). Aside from the originals, which range from angry break-up songs to astute (and funny, as in, "you might as well laugh or you'll cry") social commentary, The Peasants do covers of Beatles tunes, Jimi Hendrix, all kinds of great classic rock. And Pete is truly a virtuoso guitarist. I've personally witnessed more than one dazzled would-be rocker asking, "Do you give lessons?". (Yes, he does) Schedule varies, but usually you will find them at The Pit near the Harvard Square T exit on a Friday or Saturday evening, playing always no louder than 80 decibels (Cambridge Arts Council rules...). Occasionally other gigs elsewhere. You can check schedule at http://www.thepeasants.net and from there contact Pete to get on an email list for reminders.
So you see? I'm a feminist, plenty of justified anger at the males of this world (including some men who, like Margaret Thatcher, for some reason LOOK like women). But I can still appreciate good music. Especially when it makes me dance.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Let's Torture the Unemployed some MORE!!! It's SOOOO FUN!!!
Once again, the rich lawyers who run things (i.e. our "elected" representatives) are dragging their feet to extend unemployment benefits, which average $300 per week per person. Why?
At least ONE MILLION people will lose benefits at the end of February if nothing is done immediately. Another FOUR MILLION will lose all benefits in the months to follow. Harry Reid is talking about a TWO-WEEK extension (to March 15) to give these rich lawyers more time to wrangle, to fight about throwing in some obscure provision for a bridge in Alaska (or some other "pork" or obscure regulation) as a concession to extending benefits until the end of May (although there is no indication any miraculous recovery will occur at that point, and many economists have called for extension through 2010).
The end result of these delays is that the mental and physical health of the unemployed suffers, which is possibly GOOD NEWS for the insurance companies. They can make money out of this crisis, especially from the sick unemployed with COBRA benefits still intact.
Who cares if more people become homeless, or another child goes hungry, or Dad goes on a drunken tear or Mom pops an extra anti-depressant?
The unemployed should really be re-labeled "The Unimportant" or "The Insignificant". The way at least FIVE MILLION Americans and their families have been treated for at least the past six months indicates that re-labeling is long overdue.
Sure, our elected lawyers can find time to agree on pay-outs for rich bankers and Wall-Street execs. Hey, those guys NEED their million-dollar bonuses!!! But somehow finding time to make sure a huge portion of the American public makes it through these trying times (brought on, by the way, by unregulated criminals, i.e. the aforementioned bankers and execs)--well that is just too darn tedious.
And besides all that, let's face it, it's kinda fun to torture people. Almost like some cheap reality show. Except that this IS REAL.
At least ONE MILLION people will lose benefits at the end of February if nothing is done immediately. Another FOUR MILLION will lose all benefits in the months to follow. Harry Reid is talking about a TWO-WEEK extension (to March 15) to give these rich lawyers more time to wrangle, to fight about throwing in some obscure provision for a bridge in Alaska (or some other "pork" or obscure regulation) as a concession to extending benefits until the end of May (although there is no indication any miraculous recovery will occur at that point, and many economists have called for extension through 2010).
The end result of these delays is that the mental and physical health of the unemployed suffers, which is possibly GOOD NEWS for the insurance companies. They can make money out of this crisis, especially from the sick unemployed with COBRA benefits still intact.
Who cares if more people become homeless, or another child goes hungry, or Dad goes on a drunken tear or Mom pops an extra anti-depressant?
The unemployed should really be re-labeled "The Unimportant" or "The Insignificant". The way at least FIVE MILLION Americans and their families have been treated for at least the past six months indicates that re-labeling is long overdue.
Sure, our elected lawyers can find time to agree on pay-outs for rich bankers and Wall-Street execs. Hey, those guys NEED their million-dollar bonuses!!! But somehow finding time to make sure a huge portion of the American public makes it through these trying times (brought on, by the way, by unregulated criminals, i.e. the aforementioned bankers and execs)--well that is just too darn tedious.
And besides all that, let's face it, it's kinda fun to torture people. Almost like some cheap reality show. Except that this IS REAL.
Giant Kings, Ass-Pinching and Feeling Sexy and ALIVE! (take THAT, Pilgrims!)
Monday, February 22, 2010
Giant Kings, Ass-Pinching and Feeling Sexy and ALIVE! (take THAT, Pilgrims!)
Note to surveillers: Almost no "revolutionary" content here, so you can move on to your next "client", unless you wanna read about me getting my ass pinched while watching the Giant Kings play in Cambridge...
So, ladies, it seems if you are in need of having your ass pinched or fondled, do NOT miss the next Giant Kings gigs at Lizard Lounge in Cambridge (St. Paddy's Day, and the 2 Wednesdays following). My own derriere received such special attention Wednesday night, and again at their show in October 2009.
I don't know WHAT it is, but this band seems to bring out some wild earthy energy in the attendees. OK, yes, I'll admit it. I do have a pretty amazing ass. But the Boston area is not Milan or even Montreal. In fact, this area is so uptight and priggish, the spirit of those back-stabblng murderous Early Settlers pervades the very air (yes, white folk DID wipe out the native population--this was a HEAVILY populated area long before Europeans showed up here with their guns and yellow fever and smallpox blankets and lying cheating ways…oops, surveillers, I guess I'll just never get away from that pesky social commentary that runs through my brain. Google "King Philip's War" as a start if you want to get more familiar with the back-stabbing murderous ways of the first settlers here).
Where was I? Oh yes, the murderous lying priggish Pilgrims. Well, somehow I am convinced their grimacing faces still haunt Boston. How else to explain the extreme obsession with rules and the unrelenting uptight priggishness of this place?
So, ladies, (and gents) if you desperately need a break from Boston's censuring vibe, and crave some earthy vital energy flowing through your veins for a couple hours, go see the Giant Kings at Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, March 17, 24 and 31. http://www.lizardloungeclub.com/main.html
Aside from the ass-pinching energy they somehow magically create, these guys are just amazing, top-level musicians. And I am a pissed-off feminist, studied music with men who really resented my intrusion into their "territory" so if I say they are great, believe me, they are. I can even experience their greatness through the filter of my own anger at old and recent male condescension and one guy who stole my riff for his solo. That says something.
The music is old school Soul/R&B/Country/Roadhouse. Covers of tunes previously covered by artists such as Wilson Pickett, Fabulous Thunderbirds, Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Bobby Womack. The set list is FANTASTIC!!!! A good mix of upbeat, foot shuffling tunes, and edgy lost-love laments. A really tight rhythm section, fab sax section, soulful belted vox. I love Duke Levine's lead guitar, especially when he grunges out into a dirtier sound--whiz kid meets growl. It's a great combo. And Kevin Barry is a truly gifted slide guitar player.
For those who love sax but never get to hear it (I'm one of them), Giant Kings features Baritone (my personal fave) AND Tenor Sax--Mark Earley and Paul Ahlstrand, respectively. Oh, the heck with it, all the players are amazing. Chris Cote, vocals (and vox trombone!), band leader and guitarist Duke Levine, upright and electric bass player Marty Ballou, drummer Andy Plaisted and Kevin Barry, slide guitar player (who is occasionally replaced by some really great pianist or another). One local reviewer referred to this configuration as a local "super-group" and I'd say that about sums it up.
My only suggestion for improvement would be that perhaps the next time Kevin is not available, some amazing local FEMALE honkey tonk pianist be invited to sit in. Yep. Six Kings and One Queen. Sounds good to me.
What else? Oh yes, that set list. Here is a selection from last Wednesday night: Trail of Tears (Nick Lowe), Such a Night (Dr. John), Go West (Geraint Watkins), I Found a Love (Wilson Pickett), River Stay 'Way From My Door (Frank Sinatra and Others), Pouring Water on a Drowning Man (Elvis Costello, others), We're Gonna Make It (Little Milton, others).
So you can see why I am happy to dance (yes they will make you want to MOVE your body), eavesdrop on the comments of female admirers of Chris Cote ("Oh, he's so CUTE! I just LOVE him." Sorry girls, he's engaged!), and wait for the next guy to pinch my ass. And I won't even smack him for it. Or maybe I will. A nice bar brawl would surely add to the wild earthy energy. But, smack the ass-pincher or not, I'll still thank the music muses that inspire the Giant Kings to infuse that cold Cambridge air with a little lustful misbehavior for a few hours. I walked into Lizard Lounge in a sulk and walked out feeling sexy, alive and really full of myself. Couldn't ask for more (other than a female band member or two…).
Catch them for a reasonable cover charge ($7-$10) while you can. I figure sooner rather than later they will record an original tune, which will of course be a hit, and then you'll be paying a LOT more to see them in a much less intimate venue.
Note: to get on an email list for notification of future gigs, you can contact Duke Levine via MySpace. Also you can check out a few videos on YouTube. But best is to get the vibe LIVE. Absolutely no substitute.
Giant Kings, Ass-Pinching and Feeling Sexy and ALIVE! (take THAT, Pilgrims!)
Note to surveillers: Almost no "revolutionary" content here, so you can move on to your next "client", unless you wanna read about me getting my ass pinched while watching the Giant Kings play in Cambridge...
So, ladies, it seems if you are in need of having your ass pinched or fondled, do NOT miss the next Giant Kings gigs at Lizard Lounge in Cambridge (St. Paddy's Day, and the 2 Wednesdays following). My own derriere received such special attention Wednesday night, and again at their show in October 2009.
I don't know WHAT it is, but this band seems to bring out some wild earthy energy in the attendees. OK, yes, I'll admit it. I do have a pretty amazing ass. But the Boston area is not Milan or even Montreal. In fact, this area is so uptight and priggish, the spirit of those back-stabblng murderous Early Settlers pervades the very air (yes, white folk DID wipe out the native population--this was a HEAVILY populated area long before Europeans showed up here with their guns and yellow fever and smallpox blankets and lying cheating ways…oops, surveillers, I guess I'll just never get away from that pesky social commentary that runs through my brain. Google "King Philip's War" as a start if you want to get more familiar with the back-stabbing murderous ways of the first settlers here).
Where was I? Oh yes, the murderous lying priggish Pilgrims. Well, somehow I am convinced their grimacing faces still haunt Boston. How else to explain the extreme obsession with rules and the unrelenting uptight priggishness of this place?
So, ladies, (and gents) if you desperately need a break from Boston's censuring vibe, and crave some earthy vital energy flowing through your veins for a couple hours, go see the Giant Kings at Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, March 17, 24 and 31. http://www.lizardloungeclub.com/main.html
Aside from the ass-pinching energy they somehow magically create, these guys are just amazing, top-level musicians. And I am a pissed-off feminist, studied music with men who really resented my intrusion into their "territory" so if I say they are great, believe me, they are. I can even experience their greatness through the filter of my own anger at old and recent male condescension and one guy who stole my riff for his solo. That says something.
The music is old school Soul/R&B/Country/Roadhouse. Covers of tunes previously covered by artists such as Wilson Pickett, Fabulous Thunderbirds, Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Bobby Womack. The set list is FANTASTIC!!!! A good mix of upbeat, foot shuffling tunes, and edgy lost-love laments. A really tight rhythm section, fab sax section, soulful belted vox. I love Duke Levine's lead guitar, especially when he grunges out into a dirtier sound--whiz kid meets growl. It's a great combo. And Kevin Barry is a truly gifted slide guitar player.
For those who love sax but never get to hear it (I'm one of them), Giant Kings features Baritone (my personal fave) AND Tenor Sax--Mark Earley and Paul Ahlstrand, respectively. Oh, the heck with it, all the players are amazing. Chris Cote, vocals (and vox trombone!), band leader and guitarist Duke Levine, upright and electric bass player Marty Ballou, drummer Andy Plaisted and Kevin Barry, slide guitar player (who is occasionally replaced by some really great pianist or another). One local reviewer referred to this configuration as a local "super-group" and I'd say that about sums it up.
My only suggestion for improvement would be that perhaps the next time Kevin is not available, some amazing local FEMALE honkey tonk pianist be invited to sit in. Yep. Six Kings and One Queen. Sounds good to me.
What else? Oh yes, that set list. Here is a selection from last Wednesday night: Trail of Tears (Nick Lowe), Such a Night (Dr. John), Go West (Geraint Watkins), I Found a Love (Wilson Pickett), River Stay 'Way From My Door (Frank Sinatra and Others), Pouring Water on a Drowning Man (Elvis Costello, others), We're Gonna Make It (Little Milton, others).
So you can see why I am happy to dance (yes they will make you want to MOVE your body), eavesdrop on the comments of female admirers of Chris Cote ("Oh, he's so CUTE! I just LOVE him." Sorry girls, he's engaged!), and wait for the next guy to pinch my ass. And I won't even smack him for it. Or maybe I will. A nice bar brawl would surely add to the wild earthy energy. But, smack the ass-pincher or not, I'll still thank the music muses that inspire the Giant Kings to infuse that cold Cambridge air with a little lustful misbehavior for a few hours. I walked into Lizard Lounge in a sulk and walked out feeling sexy, alive and really full of myself. Couldn't ask for more (other than a female band member or two…).
Catch them for a reasonable cover charge ($7-$10) while you can. I figure sooner rather than later they will record an original tune, which will of course be a hit, and then you'll be paying a LOT more to see them in a much less intimate venue.
Note: to get on an email list for notification of future gigs, you can contact Duke Levine via MySpace. Also you can check out a few videos on YouTube. But best is to get the vibe LIVE. Absolutely no substitute.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Things I Hate (and Sometimes I Hate Just About Everything!)
I hate rich people breezily chatting about someone's post in Dubai, and then remarking that "it's a good job, but the economy there is just not as great as it once was". Lah dee dah.
I hate rich Harvard guys complaining about yet a third wedding in the Vineyard, yet ANOTHER private plane to catch, then hopping into a red convertible Porsche with a freshly cleaned Gucci suit slung over the shoulder.
I hate the creepy guy in Harvard square who does so-called puppetry whilst making strange comments in his husky unpleasant voice. Too much acid, dude, back in the day...waayyy too much. Shoulda stayed away from the Brown Dot. I'm sure everyone warned you, and you just didn't listen.
(OK yes maybe "hate" is a strong word--so this is hate in the sense of so extremely annoyed that I feel like screaming. Not hate in the way I hate the folks "in charge" who left poor old women in New Orleans to die in the streets after they intentionally destructed 9th Ward Levies during Hurricane Katrina, which was only a Category 3 storm when it hit the city, by the way.)
I hate male musicians who, without knowing a single thing about me, condescendingly chuckle when I say I might like to buy a Zoom digital recorder, informing me "That's probably out of your price range." Then I check Amazon and find it for $300, not bad. So what was really meant was "Don't fool yourself. You're a female. You just don't have those creative music genes." (i.e. penis) OK, maybe he didn't mean it quite this way, but that IS the way I heard it, and I HAVE heard derision and chuckles so many times in my life.
Chuckles and condescension from penis-people re: my screenplays, paintings, drawings, op-eds, fiction, videos, photography, musical compositions and arrangements, vocal performances, acting, poetry. EVEN my approach to participating in protests. Even during a critical mass Bike Ride.
I was calling out to folks on Newbury Street "Get out of your car, and ride your bike! It's GOOD for you, GOOD for the environment". A nasty pricky penis person rode up to me and told me to shut up. Apparently only the males in the ride were allowed to verbalize. It was then that I noticed that the other women riding were demurely silent. I ended up telling the guy to go phoque himself (a phoque is a seal, in French) at the end of the ride. But he had temporary achieved his aim--I was shocked into (temporary) silence. Useless A-hole!
Once I got into a huge fight with a guy I had been dating. It was in a bar in Montreal. He had just breezily informed me that he was there to meet another woman, not me. Big mistake. His snotty entitled cruel words and attitude resulted in me ripping his shirt and biting his hand while his friends tried, without success, to pull me off the guy. The bouncer finally came over and threatened to call the cops. I figured I had made my point and left.
I went out to the corner and called my friend Stacy, a social worker. I could feel heat and energy coursing through my whole body. It felt GREAT, but already the "not being demure and invisible" guilt was setting in. But Stacy would have none of that. She thought what I had done was GREAT!
"Imagine what would it would be like if EVERY woman who was fed up with the behavior of some guy or another had a screaming fit simultaneously," she said. "Every single street corner would be filled with screaming women, tearing shirts and biting hands and having bloody fits. It would be fantastic!"
I loved Stacy, a true friend. Haven't seen her in some time and I still love her.
But in Harvard Square, with one cop for every third person, protecting the spawn of the corporate elite, and cameras every 20 feet, the best I have done is intentionally smash into a group of frat boys who refused to give me some space on the sidewalk, and chastise a couple of drunk college brats who were mean to a homeless guy. No torn shirts, no bitten hands.
Maybe it's time to become a metal musician. Then I can scream my head off (as long as it's no more than 80 decibels in Harvard Square) and get away with it. I can also sing tunes like "Land of the Bland, Home of the Cloned" one of my originals. And maybe, just maybe, someone will finally recognize me for the genius I am. Or maybe not. No penis, no genius. Is that how it goes? Well I could always wear a "costume" if you know what I mean.
PS A couple months after the bar fight, I ran into Mr. Bitten Hand at a Salsa Club. He grinned ear to ear and asked me to dance. I didn't hate him anymore so I accepted. His friends looked on in shock as we danced a really WILD, really FUN Salsa. I guess some guys enjoy red-headed women with bad tempers. Thank goddess for that.
I hate rich Harvard guys complaining about yet a third wedding in the Vineyard, yet ANOTHER private plane to catch, then hopping into a red convertible Porsche with a freshly cleaned Gucci suit slung over the shoulder.
I hate the creepy guy in Harvard square who does so-called puppetry whilst making strange comments in his husky unpleasant voice. Too much acid, dude, back in the day...waayyy too much. Shoulda stayed away from the Brown Dot. I'm sure everyone warned you, and you just didn't listen.
(OK yes maybe "hate" is a strong word--so this is hate in the sense of so extremely annoyed that I feel like screaming. Not hate in the way I hate the folks "in charge" who left poor old women in New Orleans to die in the streets after they intentionally destructed 9th Ward Levies during Hurricane Katrina, which was only a Category 3 storm when it hit the city, by the way.)
I hate male musicians who, without knowing a single thing about me, condescendingly chuckle when I say I might like to buy a Zoom digital recorder, informing me "That's probably out of your price range." Then I check Amazon and find it for $300, not bad. So what was really meant was "Don't fool yourself. You're a female. You just don't have those creative music genes." (i.e. penis) OK, maybe he didn't mean it quite this way, but that IS the way I heard it, and I HAVE heard derision and chuckles so many times in my life.
Chuckles and condescension from penis-people re: my screenplays, paintings, drawings, op-eds, fiction, videos, photography, musical compositions and arrangements, vocal performances, acting, poetry. EVEN my approach to participating in protests. Even during a critical mass Bike Ride.
I was calling out to folks on Newbury Street "Get out of your car, and ride your bike! It's GOOD for you, GOOD for the environment". A nasty pricky penis person rode up to me and told me to shut up. Apparently only the males in the ride were allowed to verbalize. It was then that I noticed that the other women riding were demurely silent. I ended up telling the guy to go phoque himself (a phoque is a seal, in French) at the end of the ride. But he had temporary achieved his aim--I was shocked into (temporary) silence. Useless A-hole!
Once I got into a huge fight with a guy I had been dating. It was in a bar in Montreal. He had just breezily informed me that he was there to meet another woman, not me. Big mistake. His snotty entitled cruel words and attitude resulted in me ripping his shirt and biting his hand while his friends tried, without success, to pull me off the guy. The bouncer finally came over and threatened to call the cops. I figured I had made my point and left.
I went out to the corner and called my friend Stacy, a social worker. I could feel heat and energy coursing through my whole body. It felt GREAT, but already the "not being demure and invisible" guilt was setting in. But Stacy would have none of that. She thought what I had done was GREAT!
"Imagine what would it would be like if EVERY woman who was fed up with the behavior of some guy or another had a screaming fit simultaneously," she said. "Every single street corner would be filled with screaming women, tearing shirts and biting hands and having bloody fits. It would be fantastic!"
I loved Stacy, a true friend. Haven't seen her in some time and I still love her.
But in Harvard Square, with one cop for every third person, protecting the spawn of the corporate elite, and cameras every 20 feet, the best I have done is intentionally smash into a group of frat boys who refused to give me some space on the sidewalk, and chastise a couple of drunk college brats who were mean to a homeless guy. No torn shirts, no bitten hands.
Maybe it's time to become a metal musician. Then I can scream my head off (as long as it's no more than 80 decibels in Harvard Square) and get away with it. I can also sing tunes like "Land of the Bland, Home of the Cloned" one of my originals. And maybe, just maybe, someone will finally recognize me for the genius I am. Or maybe not. No penis, no genius. Is that how it goes? Well I could always wear a "costume" if you know what I mean.
PS A couple months after the bar fight, I ran into Mr. Bitten Hand at a Salsa Club. He grinned ear to ear and asked me to dance. I didn't hate him anymore so I accepted. His friends looked on in shock as we danced a really WILD, really FUN Salsa. I guess some guys enjoy red-headed women with bad tempers. Thank goddess for that.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Wake Up Get Up Get Up and Fight!
Dontcha just wanna sometimes lay in your bed and never get out, except maybe to grab some chips and have a pee?
I feel like that quite often. So much crapola in this world, liars and criminals of the worst kind running things. So much stuff to fight to change. Really pretty exhausting.
I have a feeling the right wing idiots of the world, who have clearly stepped over the brink into the abyss of psychosis, maybe have it easier? They might never feel happy, truly, but probably sleep OK--just grab that little pill and maybe a shot of whiskey and everything is A.O.K. For now, anyway. I don't really believe in hell, but I do believe there is some other reality beyond this one. I'd really HATE to see what befalls a hard-core heartless criminal, who lies and bemoans "the little guy" while making every decision on behalf of the corporations that are killing this earth. Don't even want to imagine it.
I feel like that quite often. So much crapola in this world, liars and criminals of the worst kind running things. So much stuff to fight to change. Really pretty exhausting.
I have a feeling the right wing idiots of the world, who have clearly stepped over the brink into the abyss of psychosis, maybe have it easier? They might never feel happy, truly, but probably sleep OK--just grab that little pill and maybe a shot of whiskey and everything is A.O.K. For now, anyway. I don't really believe in hell, but I do believe there is some other reality beyond this one. I'd really HATE to see what befalls a hard-core heartless criminal, who lies and bemoans "the little guy" while making every decision on behalf of the corporations that are killing this earth. Don't even want to imagine it.
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