Happy 50th, Tom Morello!

Today is the 50th birthday of one of my favorite people in this world ... Tom Morello. In honor of The Nightwatchman's half-century of making his mark, I'm reprinting an article I wrote about our time in Washington D.C. for Morello's 2008 Justice Tour. George W. was still in his nightmare office ... Barack Obama had not yet been elected ... and we were out there fighting for justice for ALL. It was one of the most eye-opening, life-changing and affirming times of my life ... as you'll read.

Happy Birthday, Tom ... and THANK YOU, for all you do to make this world a little bit better.

Iraq Veterans Against The War.  Of all the organizations we've worked with thus far on the Justice Tour 2008, this is the one that I now wish we had held the show the second day.  Because we met a bunch of the guys at The Black Cat in Washington D.C. at the show, but we had not yet visited the Walter Reed Hospital, which we did today.  Had we seen what we saw today by show time ... I think it would've been an even more powerful celebration of these fine men, and definitely more angry.

I met Garett Reppenhagen at the show, the first active duty member of IVAW.  He told me then that he had started an anti-war blog while still in Iraq, even though that was a risky thing to do in the current military.  He was investigated, of course, and wound up being honorably discharged - probably just to shut him up - but I can tell you, that will not work on this guy.  He's very well spoken and tells his and his comrades stories quite readily.  When interviewing him after the show, I was intrigued when he said the first time he felt "support for the troops was when he heard about the peace movement.  According to him, the best way we can "Support Our Troops" (a nice bumper sticker, but what is that driver really doing about it?) is to do all we can to get them home.

For us, that began by joining them this morning to visit the Walter Reed VA Hospital in Washington D.C. We met in the lobby of our hotel, and when I said yesterday about the show that the tone of it was heavier, I had no idea what I was talking about yet.  Today would be one of the heaviest of our lives.

The Nightwatchman and friends (Breckin Meyer, Wayne Kramer, Dave Gibbs, Ryan Harvey, myself and my brother, Paul, plus Deyden, our charity organizer) joined Tomas Young, the subject of the gripping documentary, "Body Of War", as well as Garett and Geoff Millard from IVAW on a bus ride to the hospital.  Passing through the beautiful Georgetown neighborhood is very misleading in D.C. ... they say the crime rate in D.C. is astronomical in the areas surrounding the groomed perfection of the tourist areas, but I'd say our nation's very WORST crimes are master-minded dead center - in The White House.  Today confirmed that to be spot-on.

Garett gave us a bit of a briefing on the bus ride, saying no cameras or journalists were allowed inside still (Why?  What are they hiding?  Or are they just nervous of the American people seeing the many horrific injuries and searing pain, both physical and mental, that festers inside, and RIOTING to put an end to this insidious war for profit?  I suspect that to be the case).  I wasn't worried about not being allowed to take notes ... what I saw is burned on my brain forever, and we only saw what we were allowed to see.  Garett said we should expect to see burn victims, amputees, and that some people may have just arrived a day before, fresh from the Hell hole our President created.  We would not be seeing the ICU, and they won't even let the kidney patients in there, because the rats, roaches and mold previously found there would be too large an infection risk.  The hospital did not know that IVAW guys were coming, they just knew that Tom Morello from Rage Against The Machine was coming by with some friends to visit with our brave soldiers wounded in the line of duty.  I'd think RAGE vs. the MACHINE would give them some pause, but nope.  

We were met at the entry to the gigantic complex by a very cheerful guard who smiled big and said, "Welcome to Walter Reed, Home of Warrior Care!", and after checking our i.d.'s, we were waved through.  We passed a sign that said "Kid's Fest, This Sunday!" and "Staff Appreciation Day - Yay Staff" or something like that.  Frosting on a shit cake.  We met our guide, a pretty, smiling woman who greeted us with p.r. perfection, and went inside.  You enter the lobby and are immediately surrounded by all the usual corporate suspects:  Subway, Dunkin' Donuts, etc .. in a food court.  There are big flags and pictures of high-up military general guys all over the place, because you know, it's a really patriotic place.  As sanitized and normal-seeming as it was, I found myself glancing around for buzzards.  Because of all we know (and may never know) and feel about this war, the place feels sinister in your gut.  

We all crammed on an elevator together to head to the 6th floor, where it had been prepared for us to visit.  This is normally a very chatty bunch, but not today.  All we could do is give each other furtive glances and tight, uneasy smiles of support.  I was wondering how Tomas felt, as this was his first visit back to Walter Reed since he was a patient here, on the same floor.  He revealed nothing on his face, and I continued to admire his strength.  The elevator door opened and we went to the nursing station to introduce ourselves.  They had been expecting us, and had that air of excitement when people know they're talking to someone famous.  They all wear fatigues and address each other with "Lieutenant" and "Major" and "Sir".  Our guide told us we could go in three or four at a time to the rooms, and that each time we would put "goop" on our hands to sanitize them and lessen infection risk.  We gooped up and Tom, Wayne, Tomas and I entered, pretty much holding our breaths. 

I'm not going to use names, because I don't know that they would want me to, but the first room we entered was tiny and squished in the corner on a little hospital bed was an older man, with a sweet smile and ears that stuck out, making him seem like a little boy in an 47 year old's body.  He had a bandaged stump on his right leg, which would raise in the air whenever he moved a little.  He did not recognize the guys, and just seemed happy to have any visitors at all.  He'd been a career military man, got out and became a mortician, missed the military so signed up for the National Guard, never thinking he'd be sent to Iraq.  But he was.  He was involved in an explosion, but outwardly was fine, so they told him to take some Motrin and he'd be fine.  They didn't look closely enough though, because a blood vessel was pinched behind his knee-cap and his was in constant and excruciating pain.  5 years of this, and 15 surgeries later, they took his leg this past January.  He went back and forth between "Why me?" and "It could've been worse, I could've been blown up" and back to "Why me?  The Lord must have his reasons".  He said, "It's Staff Appreciation Day here, but none of them is here appreciating me." He has family, but never talks to them about his mental anguish, because he doesn't want to worry them, and no one can possibly understand anyway.  Tears rolled down his cheeks (and mine), and Tomas told him that HE understood, he'd been a patient right down the hall.  The man's eyes widened up, and they shared stories of Sadr City and Kirkuk.  Tomas told gently told him about IVAW and gave him his personal phone number, saying that if he ever needed to talk to someone, to please call anytime.  "Well, I sure appreciate that ... it's hard.  It's hard."  It was hard just to witness, so I can only imagine what he's struggling with internally. Tom gave him a t-shirt and a c.d., Wayne thanked him for his service, I tried not to openly cry in front of him, and we all shook hands and headed out for the next room.  Our friends were waiting in the hall with wide eyes, and I couldn't even speak yet, just shake my head and regroup for the next one.

All gooped up, our next visit was with a young man who had been a medic in Iraq.  He looked pretty good, in gym shorts and shirt.  Until he pulled up his shirt and showed us his open shrapnel wound in his belly that looked to be held together with a kind of black duct tape. His team had been walking and a suicide bomber went off.  He was able to stay conscious just long enough to tell his buddy where his morphine and bandages were, and then woke up two weeks later with a gaping hole in his gut.  He said, "It's bad over there, and it's only getting worse. The first time I went, they were happy to see us.  The next time they had more sophisticated bombs.  The last time they weren't happy to see us at all". Yep, the surge sure is working.  We really can't believe a THING the government is saying about this War, that much is clear as a bell.  He knew Tom and gladly accepted a signed shirt and c.d., saying he loved music, and had been listening to a lot of reggae lately, as it makes him feel happier.  Tomas rolled in and told him that he was the subject of the film soundtrack we'd just given him, "Body Of War", and that he was now working with a group of Iraq Vets Against the War.  With not a second of hesitation, the guy said, "Sign me up!"  Geoff Millard came in and gave him an IVAW poster and a copy of their newsletter, but The Medic seemed nervous to take that.  He said he'd read it and put it under his mattress.  Geoff invited him to come and hang out at the IVAW House not far away, and the guy said "I'll definitely call.  We can get lunch, I've been wanting to go to this Tex Mex place" ... and I have a good feeling that lunch will happen soon.  I hope it's soon, because as soon as he's fully PHYSICALLY recovered, he's supposed to ship back out, to Afghanistan this time.  A reminder that the clock is ticking and we need to step up efforts to get this War over with, before it takes back the already unbelievably suffering young men who have given enough already!

Goop.  The Medic had been pretty chipper, aside from wincing in pain periodically.  The next guy was not.  He was laid out in bed, with his Mom and Wife hovering around him with concern in their eyes.  He had been hit by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device), and shattered his femur and a bunch of other stuff.  He had a big metal bolt like thing sticking out from under the covers, and seemed very doped up and tired.  He recognized Tom and Breckin, who had joined us.  Apparently "Road Trip" is very big in the barracks.  Once again we were told how bad it is over there, and how he has no idea how it could get any better.  He said all sorts of trouble and support is coming out of Pakistan, but you never hear anything about that.  Frankly, you never hear anything in the news about any of it.  Corporate media, in cahoots with this administration, don't want you to see the faces and maimed bodies, or hear about the horror movies that are these guys lives, because then we as a people wouldn't put up with it anymore. So much for free speech.  I took a photo of Tom and Breckin with the young (almost all were 25 or younger), and it hurt just to see the guy attempt a grimace of a smile, while his wife and Mom tried their best to appear normal and happy.  He and his then girlfriend, now wife, had a fight and broke up, and that's when he joined the military.  I bet his wife will regret that fight the rest of her life, and it's a reminder that this war is hurting so many people on the periphery as well.

The strong medicinal smell of the hand sanitizer and the sickish smell of pain and suffering did not leave us all day.  The bright fluorescent lighting everywhere made it all the more garish and exposed.  We were about to head to another floor, when the guide said a guy was waiting who was very excited about Tom.
We entered a room where a crinkly-eyed smiling Samoan guy was, surrounded by his wife and little daughters.  His face lit up when he saw Tom, who had no way to shake his hand, because they were all bandaged up.  He was very covered up, so we're not sure what all was wrong with him, but he looked very scrambled, with black wounds peeking out of his bandages.  Ugh.  He had been in the military since the 80's and said that American Samoa is heavily recruited by our military, and he had, ironically, joined to get the "good health benefits" and be able to provide for his family.  He kept saying, "It's really, really bad over there, really really bad".  He did not have to elaborate, when you saw the grief on his face and totally messed up body.  But his smile was wide, especially when Tom signed a shirt for him.  Tom asked him what he would do about it all if he was the President.  He said, and he was very well spoken, "Well, I'd have used diplomacy first, and tried politics ... but it's too late for that now.  We need to pull out all the troops, and just leave some to protect our base.  The Iraqis need to sort it out themselves, because they just think of us as invaders now, so it's only going to stay bad as long as we're there."  General Petraeus must have forgotten that part in his recent testimony.  He was a hard one to leave, since as bad as it was, he just wanted to be a good guy, you could tell.  Watching the young daughters be silent and well-behaved as they looked at their beat up Hero of a Daddy was tough.  And it just got worse from there.

Before we left the floor to head down to another one, the nurses had Tom sign some paper for them, and then handed a stack of printed out Google photos of Breckin to him to sign.  Both of them were happy to do it, but I think it all felt a little silly signing things for laughing nurses when there was so much pain and anger and wrongness about the place.  It was hard to lighten up.

Taking the elevator down a few floors, we got out, greeted some workers and then were led down a hall to a room where they told Tom a huge fan of his was.  A big strapping blond mohawked man sat in a wheelchair, grinning when Tom came in.  He had been in a Humvee accident just the 13th of April, the beginning of this tour!  It had flipped over (they were speeding, and it sounded like it was their own fault) and he was in the gunner's seat on top.  The way he talked, slow and searching, and the way he'd change the subject out of the blue, led you to believe there was some brain damage, which he confirmed.  Of all the guys we met, he was the only one who thought things were getting better in Iraq, but he also came off as one of the reckless, gung-ho guys that got into it all for the adrenalin.  And he had a brain injury, so that might also explain that (really the only good excuse these days).  He was a big fan of Rage and Audioslave, and loved Breckin and "Road Trip" too, wanting to know about Tom Green and if he's really that crazy.  His wife was there, clutching a picture of their four year old playing "Guitar Hero 3" for Tom to sign.  They were thrilled to meet Tom, and had a photo taken with him and Breckin. This guy echoed the sentiment that many did, that you feel guilty, and kind of want to go back to Iraq just to check that your buddies will be ok.  After this heavy-metal guy, things felt a little lighter, but that was not to last long.

We met back up with Wayne, Dave, Paul and the others in the hallway, and were told we had one more guy to visit with what our time permitted.  Paul, knowing me and my being prone to tears said, "You might not want to go in there", which made me nervous.  Tom, Tomas, Breckin and I went into this young man's room (only 24) and said hello.  He talked very slow and lethargically, so it was hard to hear him clearly, but I thought he said something about an IED blowing up and injuring his femur.  I thought he was in a recliner or something underneath his covers because I didn't see his legs.  It slowly dawned on us that he had been blown in half, and had nothing below his belly button, from what we could tell.  He pulled down the covers a bit, and showed us how his hip was at an outward angle AND he had a spinal injury.  He told us that "to tell you the truth, I kind of feel like they're experimenting on me here, since they've never seen anyone with all three injuries".  His Mother and cousin were there, and you realized that they'd all be dealing with this the rest of their lives ... including his baby who was to be baptized the next day.  He was supposed to be fitted for something called "Shorties" that afternoon (prosthetic slip on legs that make you like a little person height) but wasn't looking forward to it since it hurt so bad the last time they tried.  He looked at Tomas in his wheelchair and asked what he was doing now, as if to wonder what there could be left in life for him.  Tomas told him he worked with IVAW and there was a documentary he was the subject of ... and the kid, though heavily drugged, said, "Oh, yeah?"  You saw a little light go on, like maybe there would be something left for him after all, if this guy who'd shared the same floor at Walter Reed was now rolling with rock stars and movie actors.  Tomas told him about IV AGAINST the War, and you could tell the kid was mixed about talking about that.  Maybe it was too fresh, or he wasn't comfortable talking about that under the nose of the military, but when Tomas said, "I'm usually up all night and I can't sleep, so I'm going to give you my number and you can call anytime."  The kid said, "Yeah, isn't that weird?  I can't sleep either.  But Mandy Moore was here last week and gave me her number, so I'll probably call her. You want it?"  We all laughed at that gallows humor, but that was about the only thing to laugh at all day long, and just then to break the tension.  He was injured when his crew was clearing a road to make sure it was clear and safe for some visiting diplomats.  His buddy was decapitated in front of him, so he felt lucky.  He was torn in half to protect the very guys who put him in that situation!  I was shaking.  We gave him the shirt, c.d. and signed poster, plus the info on IVAW and thanked him for his sacrifice.  I just wanted to get out of there before I screamed out in rage.  Tears were running down my face and when we got out in the hallway, I saw Kid Lightning and he was in the same shape.  We walked down the hall arm in arm along with the rest of the gang, and Garett asked if I was ok.  I don't feel like ANY of us are ok!  How can we as a nation be at all ok when our young men and women are over there being split in two or worse for NOTHING?!  For PROFIT?!?!  That IS what's happening, whatever you want to say or think about it ... and that IS also what the soldiers feel is happening.  Tomas signed up for the military two days after 9/11 to help in the fight against terrorism and Osama Bin Laden (Who?  We never hear about that search anymore, do we?).  He was paralyzed after only 5 days in Iraq, but said that if it had happened in Afghanistan, (where he felt the battle should be, and still does) he'd be bummed about it, but would feel like it was for something, and he would not be in a documentary or involved with an anti-war group.  But it didn't.  It happened in a place where our government wants the oil and Halliburton is war profiteering and war crimes are rampant ... on and on and on, until none of us WILL be ok until the war is ended and the entire current administration is convicted of war crimes. And only then will we be able to look the world in the face and say we're STARTING to be ok.

So we thanked our guide and silently got on the bus.  Slowly, we all started talking about it all ... everyone just sick to their stomachs, with sadness, shock, and righteous anger.  As Tom said, "No one knows about this stuff, no one ever sees it!"  So we're telling you.  And hoping you will start asking to know about it, and to see it for yourselves.  I KNOW that if access to these guys and their stories were readily available, the pressure for this war to be over would mount until they had no choice.  Garett said, "If it never ends, we never lose."  In my opinion, we've been losing the whole time, but it never felt this tangible until today at Walter Reed, "Home Of Warrior Care".

The next stop on our agenda was the IVAW House, where Vets against the war can come to organize, stay, get counseled by their peers, or just hang out and watch t.v., so they know that they are not alone.  Geoff told our bus driver, "Just look for the house with all the anti-war propaganda on the lawn".  And there it was, a big old house in a sketchy-ish neighborhood.  We all filed in, lifting Tomas up the steps in his chair.  From the moment you step in the door, you get it.  The "You are not alone" posters paper the entryway, and other posters and stickers are everywhere.  My favorite was "My kid fought in Iraq so yours could party in college".  That about sums up the reality of it all, and our tendency to be Ostriches about the hard stuff in this country ... as long as there's cold beer and a game or American Idol on, it's all good.  But deep down, every last one of us must know that it's not good at all.

We had a tour of the house (entirely paid for by small donations, and now a badass Justice Tour show the night before!), seeing the rooms of the 5 guys who live there now, and their "most important piece of equipment in the house", a punching bag.  There was a computer room and a room where the Homefront Battle Buddies meet - a group that meets for peer support regarding mental health issues, since the VA seems to either deny it or drug them up instead of dealing with it, and the suicide rate of vets and soldiers is now up to 18 a day!  This house seemed more and more crucial by the second.

We all ate lunch together, and listened to the IVAW guys speak about the history and strategy of their organization.  They feel that if they take away military support for the war, it will have to end, and that seems obvious, but the challenges are many because the military makes it very easy to get in (even taking KKK members, gang members and drastically lowering height and weight standards as the willing and able pool is drying up), and very hard for soldiers to get out.  Which is all the more reason why this group is so important - to let enlisted soldiers know that they have anti-war support among their peers makes is safer and easier to do something about it.  As Geoff said, "This house does more for veterans than the entire VA System".  And you can feel it.  They want to make the military choose between having a military at all, or having this unjust occupation.  The more you listen to them, the more you feel that they and WE can do it.

All the while, Geoff's little beagle, "Resistance" was running around, and they told us that Resistance is a certified PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - the military uses a lot of acronyms) Counselor.  She has many clients, I'm sure.

The IVAW has three main objectives: 
1) Immediate withdrawal of ALL occupying forces in Iraq - and 
    that includes Halliburton.
2) Take care of all Veterans (Hey McCain, why won't you sign  the GI Bill when you're such a war hero?  Hmmm ...)
3) Reparations for the Iraqi people.  We are grossly indebted to this country we've destroyed.

That all seems perfectly logical and do-able to me.  While we're at it maybe we can improve our OWN country with all the money we're currently using on committing daily crimes against humanity, which includes our own soldiers.  Five new members signed up for the IVAW between the Justice Show and Walter Reed today.  And the movement just keeps growing.  They're sick of being USED as the reason to perpetuating this war, ala "We need to keep at it so the soldiers feel like they can be victorious."  B.S.  These guys will have a strong presence at the Political Conventions this summer, which will be good to raise their profile.  As will all of us talking about it and promoting it.  We OWE them that, at the very least.

They thanked us all for coming, and Tom for choosing their organization as the beneficiary of the D.C. stop on the Justice Tour.  Tom thanked them for EXISTING - the fact that they got organized and built their group makes it easier for other soldiers  - and we civilians who see the injustice for what it is - to speak out and do something about it.

We loaded back on to the bus, and rehashed it all together a bit, but mostly looked out the windows and thought about all that we'd experienced.  What a day ... and we only VISITED, we don't have to LIVE the nightmare of this war, every day for always.

After a quick breather, it was time to head to the Amnesty International Annual Meeting, where Tom was going to present awards to some members out there fighting for human rights and justice.  We couldn't get the Walter Reed guys out of our heads, so sat around backstage sharing it all with some AI folks.  That's a start ... the more we talk about it, the more people know about it.  That betters the chances to get people involved in DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  Tom gave a lovely speech for the Amnesty people, telling them about what the Justice Tour is all about, and how activism and music can work together to DEMAND Justice, especially when working in harmony with all the fantastic organizations we've been learning about so far on this amazing, adventurous, eye-opening tour.

After the meeting, Tom split off to meet up with Dave and Breckin at the CUBS/Nationals game.  I needed a break, and some time to reflect, so I went back to Georgetown to get some dinner with Paul, Carlos the Tour Manager and Deyden and Jamie, our lovely charity organizers.  We all needed a drink (or three) after the heavy metal drama of the day.  We got those, which somehow gave us a second wind.  

Paul had never been to D.C., so I told him he at least had to see the Lincoln Memorial and the steps where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his historical speech before we left early the next morning.  As we paid the cab driver and crossed the street to walk up the Memorial, my phone beeped.  It was Tom, asking how the bar was, but saying, "We're at the steps where MLK gave his 'I have a dream speech'".  I looked up the steps, and there they were ... we'd all had the same idea at the same time in the middle of the night!  I think after the disgust and disgrace of seeing what our government has inflicted on its own people (and a country that never did anything to us) in this immoral and criminal war, we all needed to remind ourselves of what we are SUPPOSED to be, for ourselves and for the world.  Abe had it right, Martin had it right ... and they were both killed for it.  It is up to us to carry on those ideals, and that great dream.  I have tears again now at how far astray we've gone, and can only pray that we can find our way back, and right our wrongs.  We looked out at the Washington Monument from the very spot where MLK's speech was given, and I know that in each of our hearts, we felt the need to honor that flag that flies over our nation's capital, and never stop fighting for Justice.  

LA Rising - A Day Of Rage and Hope

There are many great bands in the world, but it's what they do with their greatness that actually defines that word. Rage Against The Machine is a GREAT band, and all you needed as evidence of that fact was to be present at their L.A. Rising Festival at the gigantic Coliseum last Saturday.


Black flags flew over the Coliseum in the bright sunshine of the day, indicating the rock rebellion that was about to go down inside. Rage curated the entire day, from the performers (Mexico's El Gran Silencio, Immortal Technique, Ms. Lauryn Hill, Rise Against, Muse and Rage) to the many organizations participating in the "Re-Education Camp" on the grounds, to teach about the people working hard, without profit, to fight for our rights to remain a free and just country. There was a LOT going on.


I got there just in time to be amazed by Ms. Lauryn Hill. I wore her Miseducation... album OUT, so was thrilled to be seeing her live - and only one week after giving birth to her sixth child! She tore it up, and she and her band had a much heavier sound than I've ever heard recorded. She strutted about the stage in her knee-high white boots, looking hot, and stronger than ever.


"Killing Me Softly" was her opener, followed by "Everything is Everything", "The Sweetest Thing", "This Is Crazy", the Fugees fave, "Fu-Gee-La", Stevie Wonder's "Where Has My Love Gone?" ... all in firm command of the stage. You could tell she was feeling it, even if many of those down front were camped out waiting for hours for Rage, and kind of indifferent looking. "Ready Or Not" and her classic, "That Thing" closed out her set in the sun, and made me want to see a show that was just hers. Soon.

I'm sure many of the black t-shirt wearing (the dominant outfit of the day) teens there will think I'm an idiot, but I skipped watching Rise Against to go learn more about the different organizations in the Re-Education Camp working for positive change. I already knew a bunch of them, having worked with them on The Nightwatchman's Justice Tour, so it was a delight to visit them and catch up on the latest actions being taken.


As Rise Against was thundering away inside the stadium, the crowd was pretty light inside the Camp when I was there, but I was told it was busy all day. It gives you such hope to see tough looking kids in black standing there listening to someone tell them about Axis Of Justice or Jail Guitar Doors or the SEIU or the South Central Farmers or Iraq Veterans Against War or Food Not Bombs or the IWW or Amnesty International or It Gets Better or or or or ... all the "true headliners of the day", per the meaning it organizers.


There were over 40 booths to visit, all with some way to help make our world a better, more just place. It all felt especially timely with the whole Debt Ceiling deadline looming, our still being in unnecessary COSTLY (in lives and treasure) wars, rampant unemployment, and and and ... All sorts of ominous injustice everywhere that you could just go on about for days, but with organizations like these, and the eager, open ears and hearts of those in attendance at events like these ... well, there IS Hope, everyone! You could just feel it it in the air.


You could also feel crackling, electric excitement in the air, as I overheard people from all over the WORLD getting hyped up for Rage. People flew in for the show, as you hear a lot, "You never know if Rage will play again." But the crowd was heavily Los Angeleno, and they LOVE their Rage. For damn good reason. I re-connected with a bunch of friends, and though we've all seen Rage a lot, the excitement never dwindles a bit. On the contrary, it BUILDS, because we know what we're in for!


The sun set and the stadium darkened. I've never gotten into Muse really, as their anthem-y KROQ tunes always felt a little derivative to me, though exceptional in their musicianship (Oh, there's their Queen rip-off, Oh, there's the Zeppelin homage, etc ... Singer Matthew Bellamy even said at one point, "Rage is our favorite band since we were kids - we'll be playing more of their riffs later, of course") but I'll tell you what, they put on a great live show, and are much heavier than I would have previously given them credit for. Re-educated!




They played all their hits, with all the bells and whistles (lasers, morphing video graphics), and were super tight throughout. "Super Massive Black Hole" was awesome, and Bellamy would switch from crunching guitar riff to classical piano in the same song without missing a beat. Bassist/Guitarist Christopher Wolstenholme held it down with his blue lit guitar neck and drummer Dominic Howard was extra tight. A little "Back In Black" tease led into a "Star Spangled Banner" intro for the stoked crowd to their "I Want It Now" anthem. It was big. Mosh pit big.


I learned that "Undisclosed Desires" is a rad song (featuring Bellamy on the keytar) with rad lyrics. I also learned during "Could Be Wrong" that I could have been wrong about Muse. They're way more awesome than I ever knew.


"Black Holes and Revelations" was a big sing-along and "Time Is Running Out" was timely, as their set was almost over. Giant smoke plumes blasted out of the stage, big inflatable blood-shot eyeballs were released for the crowd to bounce around to each other, and Muse blazed away on the first song I ever knew of theirs, "Knights Of Cydonia". With the chorus of You and I must fight for our rights/You and I must fight to survive ... it was both the perfect lead-in to Rage, and a really good summary of the point of the entire day's event. Hey, Muse - I'm into it! Thanks.


A short breather up in the VIP (which I prefer to call Friends, as everyone is important) tent was had, and then it was time for our gang to be rounded up and escorted to the fenced in area in the midst of the floor crowd. Coming out of the tunnel and into the stadium was so HUGE feeling, there really aren't apt enough descriptors. The place was about to go OFF.


People were already screaming their heads off before anything happened, and then it went dark and one's ears may still be ringing today from the cacophony of jubilant noise that ensued. The video screens lit up with past Rage memories (naked at Lalapalooza; causing riots at the 2000 DNC; walking the WALK for 20 years!) and the screams grew even louder. Then shrill air raid sirens went off, and the black tapestry with the Rage star (book-ending the one at the other end of the Coliseum blocking off an entire section of seats) slowly rose above the stage. EVERY hand was in the air with either a fist or a camera phone.


"We're Rage Against The Machine from Los Angeles!!!" screamed Zack de la Rocha as Rage took the stage and tore right into "Testify". It was sheer pandemonium from those opening seconds to the last hand clap of the night, without one second to even try to catch your breath. There was a sound glitch at the very start and Zack's mic went out, and it felt scary for a moment, with police conspiracy, riots, power, anger all running through our heads in the long seconds before it got sorted out. And then it ruled, of course. Phew.

"Bombtrack" and its chorus of Burn, Burn, yes ya gonna burn! was damn right as a fire broke out/was set in a back of the floor mosh pit (of which there were many - in the double digits - swirling around the entire show ... now if we can just harness that energy for GOOD, we'll really get somewhere!), sending smoke high in the air and bringing emergency vehicles with lights flashing into the tunnels. It was a Holy Shit moment, for sure. (No need for beach ball eyeballs or pyrotechnics during Rage. They - or their fans - provide their own).


"People Of The Sun". "Know Your Enemy" (Timely as ever. Fight the war, fuck the norm ... What? Land of the Free? Whoever told you that is your enemy!). A pretty Morello guitar intro into an ominous, angry "Bulls On Parade" that had the whole place screaming, They rally round the family, with pockets full of shells!! and freaking out over another sick Morello solo. SICK!


"Township Rebellion". "Bullet In The Head" had everyone jumping how high. That's the thing with Rage songs ... every opening of every song makes everyone go nuts because every song is a total classic, and they all feel IMPORTANT. Because they are. It's a real education to just sit and read Zack's lyrics - do it sometime. He lays it all out, unflinchingly, not caring at all about offending or getting in trouble or having someone disagree, or whether it's marketable - just shoving the truths right down your throat with wit and laser intelligence. Then you have the tightest, heaviest band ever (Seriously. No one out there, 20 years later, can come close to the beats and rhythms created by Tom Morello, Timmy C., Brad Wilk and their instruments. No one.) to go along with Zack's wisdom - and you can see why they can fill a Coliseum. Probably 10 Coliseums.


"Down Rodeo" was massive and true. Then Zack yelled, "Let me see your fists up in the sky!" and thousands and thousands of them rose up into the L.A. night. Just in time for "Guerilla Radio", which certainly deserved them. Zack sat on the edge of the drum riser, professorially, and taught the masses that "ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US NOW!" And looking around at all the charged up faces and energy, you knew that to be the truth. People were going insane by now, and it only got crazier when Rage threw down "Calm Like A Bomb". That was intense, but they didn't let up for an eye-blink before blazing into "Sleep Now In The Fire". That double-whammy felt actually dangerous, as the intensity inside the Coliseum had grown so thick by now that you were simply forced to jump up and down as you screamed, The Nina, The Pinta, The Santa Maria, the noose and the rapist, the fields overseer, the agents of orange, the priests of Hiroshima, the cost of my desire, Sleep now in the fire! (Um ... still ... two days later ... only now humming it.) I could feel Tim's bass thumping in my heart, and the drum beats vibrating up through my feet into my entire body. A Rage show is a completely visceral experience. A heavy one.


"Wake Up" was incredible, and within it, Zack broke it down to address the crowd: "Brothers and Sisters, Thank you! It's a beautiful night in a beautiful city ... but there's a tension growing in the city ... Foreclosure signs stretch to the horizon ... fancy hotels being built downtown full of empty rooms while the homeless are outside ... Public education is being forced to pay for illegal wars ... (*I'm paraphrasing a bit as I was scribbling in the dark while being jostled and my notes are almost illegible, but it's roughly verbatim) ... L.A. is a city of rebellion ... In '92 People rose up ... and I hope to see you in the streets, because they belong to US!!!" And then all mayhem broke loose as they finished the jam and Zack screamed the rallying cry of "WAKE UP!!!!", finishing with the reminder that "What you reap is what you sow!"

With that, Rage left the stage and immediately the chants for more began. It was then that I turned around in a 360 to absorb the enormous scope of the whole place, filled with people, yelling for and wanting the same thing: More. But not just more from the band that we all loved. More for ourselves, more for our city, more for our country, and more for the world - all of us, as the whole that we are ... or could be. In that spinning moment, it really felt/feels possible.

But just for starters, we got more Rage. A Commie anthem rouser came on the speakers, the guys returned to the stage, Brad struck that cowbell, and it was time for "Freedom"! Anger is a gift, remember? It sure felt like it on this night anyway. But nothing in the entire day was as much of a gift as the closing number, the super epic, "Killing In The Name". As the familiar opening chords struck, a guy near me said, "Oh, NO!" and looking around, that's what it felt like. Like the entire place was going to self-combust. Now EVERYONE was moshing. EVERYONE's fists were raised. EVERYONE was together in it, going hoarse yelling "FUCK YOU, I won't do what you tell me!" so loud that you had to believe that we meant it.


And I hope we did. As the band came to the front of the stage, arms around each other, smiling, clapping back, raising their fists to the thousands raised before them, I was thrilled, yes, but also encouraged. That the energy and participation in the entire day's festival of music and information would serve its lasting purpose - to re-educate and re-invigorate the PEOPLE. Energize them to stand up and really fight the powers that be (governments, media, mean people, etc ...) and say/mean that "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!" so heartily sung at this show.


Backstage after the show, as we congratulated the band on a truly All. Time. Epic. Show (!!!), I kept thinking about what it means to be not just a great band, but great people. Using the massive platform Rage has to do good in the world. To help people lacking their bigass voice, and speak/play for THEM. To be out in the streets, actively fighting for a better world. To plan an event like L.A. Rising that forces their fans (really young - I saw babies, to really old - in wheelchairs ... what other band this heavy can say that?) to pay attention to the bigger picture around them. And make it cool to get involved with changing it for the much much better. As I said at the beginning of this story ... in my book, that makes Rage Against The Machine perhaps THE Greatest Band. Ever.

Now stop reading (thank you!) and don't just Rage. Go DO something about it all.

The People's Republic of Venice Welcomes Back The Nightwatchman!

It's been a while since The Nightwatchman (Tom Morello) last liberated Venice. In fact, Venice was the site of some of his earliest liberating. We used to have Friday nights at Abbot's Habit that my brother, Paul, booked, called The Habit Night. Tom and I were friends, so when he was working out his new solo acoustic project, The Nightwatchman, back in 2005, he offered to play at The Habit for Paul and I's birthday jam. It was a packed house of riled up Venetians at the height of the sickening, unpopular Iraq War. It was sweaty and heartfelt and kickass. Really, there's some great footage. There was another Habit jam starring The Nightwatchman in early 2006, and then that ball really got rolling, the venues got bigger ... and so did the country's problems.

Last night saw The Nightwatchman return to Venice, for a show benefiting Afghanistan Veterans Against The War (and IVAW) at The Stronghold. The Same. Long. Awful. War. Gone were the backing instruments of coffee grinders and latte foamers, but back were the sweat, heart and ass kicking. Harder than ever.


Tom Freund opened up the night with some of his choice musical selections: "Copper Moon", "Truly Mellow", and, appropriately for the night, his Beatles cover of "Revolution", with his bass standing up alongside him. So was the crowd, singing along heartily at the very start of the night. He's playing tonight at The Stronghold too (Go Tom!) so get on over there. His talent runs deep, and it's always a complete treat to behold.


Longtime comrades of The Nightwatchman, Jason Heath & The Greedy Souls, were up next to help set the tone of the night with their excellent tunes of pondering anarchy. "Anarchist Girl" has always been my favorite of theirs, (and perhaps a theme song of mine at times), and it reminds me every time I hear it of when Jason Heath told me that if things got crazy with tear gas or whatnot when we were both raging against the Republican Convention in Minnesota (2008), that I should soak a bandana in vinegar to combat the fumes. Good information! (We didn't have to use it, but still). They played "Truth Rag", "Flower In The Sun" (another lovely fave), and the rueful "God's Name In Vain" from their great album, The Vain Hope Of Horse. Jason Federici played the accordion movingly, and Ysanne Spevack joined in beautifully on the fiddle. As I told them, their music makes me want to travel. Escape. Reflect. Appreciate. Rock.


Wayne Kramer (yes, of the MCmofo5!) joined JHATGS for "Anarchist Girl", and then stayed up there for his own set. He is a great friend and co-Freedom Fighter of The Nightwatchman's, and he and I met on the 2008 Justice Tour. (He was the one that first told me I needed to get to the ER when I got bit by a crazy post-Katrina spider in New Orleans. I will always remember how I should've listened to Wayne Kramer right off the bat). It was great to see him again, and especially to hear one of my faves of his anew, "Something's Broken In The Promised Land". Featuring such biting lines as "The whole state of Michigan just signed up for welfare", and "The dream is sold out in the Promised Land", Wayne lets you know this is not music for Easy Listening. You'd better think, and you'd better bristle at injustice if you're going to get Wayne Kramer ... and everyone got it last night in Venice, California.

Wayne launched a new organization, along with Billy Bragg, at SXSW called Jail Guitar Doors that is working to rehabilitate prison inmates through music. Wayne did time himself in 1978 and The Clash wrote a song ("Jail Guitar Doors") about it, hence the name Billy Bragg chose when he started the initiative to honor Joe Strummer's life. Wayne told last night's assembled about it all and said "Send us money. Guitars ain't free y'know. Something happens when they pick up that guitar, and they're not gifts. They're a challenge - to use as a way to cope, and to not go back to the Pen." I think we can all get behind that. So please do. "Bad Seed" was next, in honor of those "bad seeds" they're working with. "Hollywood Boulevard" spoke the great line, "tough thumbs in your belt" that I loved. Wayne is a real poet, and makes you feel wiser after just one listen. He dedicated the next one to his lovely wife, Margaret, "who didn't show up tonight." "Let It Be Me" was an incredibly dear love song that made you feel the true depth between them. He wrapped it up with a jangly acoustic guitar version of "Redemption Song", which everyone sang along, and seemed to truly feel.

Wayne introduced his dear friend, Mr. Morello, who sprang onto the stage saying, "I'm The Nightwatchman, and it begins tonight!" And so began the song called, "It Begins Tonight", with Tom on his trusty "Whatever It Takes" acoustic guitar, and banging along with himself on his stomp box. Shouting that let you know everyone was on board followed that, which led right into "Flesh Shapes The Day". Tom really knows how to throw down as a showman, and the crowd was all the way into it all the entire time, yelling especially for the "Si Se Puede!" line.


"Maximum Firepower" has always been a rile-er of the masses, and it was no different last night. "The Nightwatchman giveth and taketh away" was as true as a lyric as it was for the volume. One minute the entire place would erupt in deafening applause, the next it was what it must sound like when you're deaf. Silence. "If you take one step towards Freedom, it'll take two steps towards you." Inspirational as ever, Tom sings the truths we all need to hear. And act on. "The Dogs Of Tijuana" was dedicated to Wayne Kramer, with its Mexican guitar melodies and "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah" chorus, and warning that "Every dog has its day, and tonight we're coming home!" (That made me smile that I was at a sweet rock show a mere two blocks from home!)


"Thank you! It's always nice to play The Peoples' Republic Of Venice! Full of Hippies and Liberal Activists ... and you have the Beach!" Yes. Yes we do, Tom. And you're clearly welcome back anytime. He dedicated the next one to the Soldiers of IVAW (whom we really got to know on that epic Justice Tour, visiting the horror show of the Walter Reed Hospital - you really should re-read that article here - it was enough to make ANYONE a Hippie Liberal Activist), the beneficiaries of the evening. "When The Tigers Broke Free" was Tom's adaptation of the Pink Floyd song, and made you feel the pain of a child looking back on the death of his Father. More than poignant when you think of the many, many pointless deaths that have happened during this awful war. It's time to end it. We've lost too, too much already. There is no winning for any side of it anymore. Just ending it, and mourning the incredible damage it's done to us all.

Which leads us to the acoustic version of Rage's "Guerilla Radio" - always a crowd favorite, one that Tom hopes will be played when the day finally comes "When War Criminals of ALL administrations are brought to trial and convicted." Huge applause for that, extra so since the night was in honor of those AVAW/IVAW members. "There is nothing more courageous than a Soldier willing to stand up against an unjust War". "ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US NOW!!" was yelled by everyone, not just the super fan guys that sat down front and sang along to absolutely every syllable. Cute.


A special guest called Serj Tankian (System Of A Down) joined Tom for their sublime duet, "Lazarus On Down". It features gorgeous deluxe guitar from Tom, and otherworldly vocals by Serj, who was in the best voice I've ever heard him. Hauntingly quiet in there, these two founders of Axis Of Justice brought the house down. Almost literally, so eruptive it was after the last note died out.


Tom is also producing a band out of Brooklyn called Outernational. Great guys, and they're cut from the same cloth, to be sure. They joined Tom for their call to arms called "Fighting Song". Accordian and trumpet added to the mix, and gave it a Gogol Bordello-y feel, encouraging folks to quickly learn the chorus and sing along for the fight. "All of the People, all across the World, they want something more!" Absolutely they do. And a good start to the more was the "World Premiere" of The Nightwatchman's brand new tune, "Stray Bullet", which Tom sang for Tomas Young, another friend from the IVAW whom we met after he was paralyzed by said stray bullet pretty much immediately after arriving in Iraq. You simply cannot hear his story and be supportive of ANY War, any longer (if you ever were). See Body Of War and you'll understand what I'm saying. Some plaintive Outernational trumpet drove it all home.




There was a moment for tuning during which Tom encouraged people to scream their lungs out, which they did. He then said, "This is a future Classic ... so Stand Up! If you believe in fighting against Injustice ... against Immoral Wars ... then get on stage and sing along with The Nightwatchman! Get up here!"



So as many people as the little Stronghold stage would hold crammed up there to belt it out along with Tom to "Worldwide Rebel Song"! It was easy to learn the "Worldwide Rebel Song, sing it loud, all night long!" verse and sing we all did. It was a little "We Are The World", only way, way cooler than that lame one they just re-did. I cracked up at one point when Tom stopped the proceedings to get someone to fix the microphone stand for him ... "I cannot have a microphone stand that's leaning to the right!" No more cool hipsters were present at The Stronghold by now, as every single person in there seemed to have now joined the Superfan ranks, with huge smiles and rambunctious singing overtaking any thought of posturing ... "Here we come!"


As with every Nightwatchman show, there is more to it than simply rocking it out together. It tends to stay with you long after the stamp on your wrist fades away. Because you can see how music really does affect true change in the world, not just in the uplift of your mood, but in the tone of your thoughts. Enough people singing the song out loud as one - rebelliously - and then walking the walk (or the Picket Line ... or the Peace March ... ) IS the force of change necessary for anything positive to ever actually HAPPEN.


As The Nightwatchman closed the evening down with his customary, "Take it easy, but take it!", I hope that Venice - and everywhere else lucky enough to host a throw down like this - will indeed take it ... to heart.




*You can see more pictures that rule at www.PaulGronner.com