The South Rises Again

So I’ve been wanting to write for several weeks now but a combination of factors has kept me from doing so. For one thing, I’m just too busy with various work things. Also our schedule has changed just a bit here at home, giving me less time to write but more time with Senator Smoosh, so that’s a major check in the plus column for me. I’ve also got the class I’m taking and so on and so forth.

Mainly, however, it’s that I’ve been paralyzed. There are so many serious issues right now that I go tharn when trying to figure out what to say about what. I mean, the Yoo torture memo? The Attorney General either admitting criminal negligence on the part of the administration leading up to 9/11…or simply lying? The economy going down, down, down, with no end in sight, and much of it traceable right back—as usual—to the current occupants of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?

And then there’s Iraq. As always.

So I’ve been flummoxed. Which is why I was so grateful for this here clip.

This has been bounced around the internet all week, but I didn’t watch it. Why would I? The Leningrad Cowboys & Red Army Choir performing “Sweet Home Alabama”? I don’t think so. I get the joke just from the concept. No need to waste time with the actual execution.

And then I watched it. And damn if it isn’t pretty damn rock and roll.

We all know that rock and roll is largely—if not entirely—a matter of attitude. And the Leningrad Cowboys have ‘tude in spades. Adding the Red Army Choir? The actual Red Army Choir? Brilliant! And not just in theory, but in reality. And when they break into, as I think they do, “The Song of the Volga Boatmen” at the end? Genius.


About the other scott peterson

Writer of comics and books and stuff.
This entry was posted in Music. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The South Rises Again

  1. Ed says:

    I guess the cowboys’ hats are somewhere in their hair? Different, but still kick a** rock -n- roll. Way cool.

  2. jon says:

    I was a Leningrad Cowboy for Halloween once. Hardly anyone knew what I was, but it was appreciated nonetheless.
    And the hair required a wire hanger inside, loads of gel (hairspray would have been a wiser choice, but I hadn’t any,) and a willingness to look down during construction. The shoes were army oxfords with zinc plates and duct tape (it isn’t Halloween without duct tape,) and they made it difficult to drive.

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