Post by Chris on Dec 3, 2004 10:08:36 GMT -5
I found this on the web today. As a Cat fan I found it an interesting hypothisis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
www.commondreams.org/views04/1202-23.htm
Published on Thursday, December 2, 2004 by CommonDreams.org
Abu Bush? or What if George Bush Listened to Cat Stevens?
by Steven Backus
After Yusuf Islam was denied entrance into the United States awhile back, I hauled out all my old Cat Stevens' albums and spent a marathon night listening to the great lyrics and melodies, impressed yet again by Stevens' talent and his journey toward self-actualization. Late into the night, I got to thinking: What if George Bush had grown up listening to Cat Stevens?
When Bush was inducted into the Skull and Bones in 1968, Stevens' had just come out with his first great pop album, Matthew and Son, whose titular song catalogues the horrors of factory work. If Mr. Bush had heard the album and listened to it, we can only hope he would have developed a small empathy for the working class. Perhaps the young and impressionable Bush would have even joined a union and fought for workers' rights instead of entering the world of business. On the other hand, "Better Bring Another Bottle Baby" would have made the young dissolute happy; he might have had the luxury of whistling the tune while he was pulled over by the police during a bender. A great fan of the canine species, he'd surely have sung "I Love my Dog as Much as I Love You" to his one night stands, but "Baby Get Your Head Screwed On" could have been a lesson turned inward, and quite possibly through some heavy self-analysis, Mr. Bush may have gone down a path of healing which could have resolved some of his issues with his father.
Had he listened to Cat Stevens, he might, therefore, have sought some long term counseling and learned to be able to admit when he made mistakes, learn to have empathy for others, learn that he needed to develop cognitively so that he could navigate through complex thinking patterns which require seeing paradox, embracing ambiguity, understanding differences between self and other, tolerating confusion, developing higher forms of critical thinking, and hence living in a world of moral nuance, social diversity, and multi-cultural vision, instead of moral absolutes and us/them over-simplification. He may have developed a humane outlook on life and been prepared to engage in civil discussions which allow for a wide range of perspectives, which have as much listening as talking involved so he could respect and tolerate difference, understand ideas different from his own and strive for the greater good, come to if not agreement, at least understanding and benevolence. After several years of psychoanalysis, say, along with some heavy reading, he might have learned that growing up involves being open-minded and flexible, sensitive and patient, humble and selfless, virtues that take a lot of work to cultivate and sustain. In short, he may have become an existential humanist and found his niche in social work, education or health care.
The early seventies, while George was carousing, were extremely creative years for Cat Stevens, who produced "Tea for the Tillerman" and "Teaser and the Firecat", albums that made him famous worldwide. The introspective nature of many of Cat Stevens' songs of this time, including "Sitting," and "Tuesday's Dead", along with the more obscure "The Wind," and "Miles from Nowhere," would have been a welcome respite for the Yale Cheerleader partying at Deke House. In 1972, the year George Bush challenged his father to a fistfight, Cat Stevens released another great album, "Catch Bull at Four". Is it inconceivable that George didn't get a chance to hear Cat sing? How could he have missed "Father and Son" after the "mano a mano" incident? Had he listened to this song, he'd have sensed a certain kinship with the musician and he'd have understood that instead of coming to blows, the attentive listener is offered a peaceful and fruitful solution to the overbearing father: hit the road*not join the guard.
If Bush had a semblance of nuance to him he'd have no doubt recognized the anguish of pushing against his father, and he'd have recognized the need for his father to sculpt him into a miniature Bush (hence the name), but had he taken to heart "Father and Son", he'd have realized he was not his father, he could not be his father, and that his path was different. Bush would have been able to make the connection between "Father and son", whose son knows he has "to go away," and the narrator in "On the Road to Find Out", who quite possibly is that son on his journey; it's as basic as the three little pigs: sooner or later, you have to leave your home and make your way in the world, painful as that may be. Unfortunately, George Jr. has spent much of his life trying to live up to his father's image and his quest has been stunted. This has turned into a fiasco of world proportions. Had he listened to Cat Stevens, he quite possibly would have grown up to be a peace mediator instead of an extension of a destructive dynasty.
Our energy and environmental policies, if created by a Cat Stevens' devotee, would no doubt conform to a green vision. What, for example, would have traveled through Mr. Bush's head while he poised his presidential pen over dismantling pollution regulations, over the idea that deforesting the US is good for the forest, if he'd been raised on Stevens' verse? Would a Stevens' lover allow snowmobiles to race through Yellowstone? Would he suppress global warming data or diss the Kyoto treaty? How would he have dealt with a Halliburton or Enron after endlessly listening to "Where do the Children Play?", the lines of which conflate trucks "pumping petrol gas" and rolling over "fresh green grass" with excessive development? Perhaps while he visited with his energy people and his environmental cadre, he could have replayed in his mind "King of Trees", a song lamenting the destruction of the forests. He would not be so prone to roaming his ranch in Crawford and cutting them down, perhaps. Is it so difficult, on the contrary, to imagine, after taking "Moonshadow", "Into White," and the classic "Morning has Broken" into his heart, Mr. Bush would have sat himself down under a tree and considered his place in nature? Possibly taken up a copy of Rousseau or Walden and turned pantheistic? Would our president, under the tutelage of Cat Stevens, have become a tree-hugger?
It is difficult, but imagine the green George holding a copy of Cat Stevens' album Buddha and the Chocolate Box in 1974 when in fact he'd burned off Superbowl Sunday at a Hunter S Thompson party that year; imagine him staring at the golden Buddha and wondering about the "higher laws". Rather than a walk on the beach with Billy Graham, imagine George plunged into existential despair and reading eastern religion, absorbed by the yin and yang of it all, transfixed by those Zen Koans. If Mr. Bush had sifted through Stevens' music for answers, more often than not he may have found questions, but questions can be a good place to begin one's spiritual journey. Sooner or later, however, even the dimmest bulb sees patterns, like Stevens' summons to "love everything." Our president as a young adult may have been perplexed at the "The Boy with the Moon and Star on his Head", even if he understood the final line: "I'll tell you everything I've learned, and Love is all...he said." Still, if he had done some investigating, he might have linked the song to Islam, the moon and star being symbols of that religion, and had he been driven to read the Koran thereafter, is it impossible to picture Abu Bush?
In November of this year, as the US death toll in Iraq approached the record, Yusuf Islam, aka Cat Stevens, was presented with the "Man for Peace" prize in Rome during a meeting of Nobel Peace Prize laureates. Islam founded Small Kindness, a charity which has donated to victims of 9/11. Had President Bush listened to Cat Stevens as a young man, perhaps he'd have become a wacko lefty tree hugging child psychologist who could whistle "Peace Train" at the drop of a hat. And then, instead of invading Iraq, he'd have protested the pre-emptive attack.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
www.commondreams.org/views04/1202-23.htm
Published on Thursday, December 2, 2004 by CommonDreams.org
Abu Bush? or What if George Bush Listened to Cat Stevens?
by Steven Backus
After Yusuf Islam was denied entrance into the United States awhile back, I hauled out all my old Cat Stevens' albums and spent a marathon night listening to the great lyrics and melodies, impressed yet again by Stevens' talent and his journey toward self-actualization. Late into the night, I got to thinking: What if George Bush had grown up listening to Cat Stevens?
When Bush was inducted into the Skull and Bones in 1968, Stevens' had just come out with his first great pop album, Matthew and Son, whose titular song catalogues the horrors of factory work. If Mr. Bush had heard the album and listened to it, we can only hope he would have developed a small empathy for the working class. Perhaps the young and impressionable Bush would have even joined a union and fought for workers' rights instead of entering the world of business. On the other hand, "Better Bring Another Bottle Baby" would have made the young dissolute happy; he might have had the luxury of whistling the tune while he was pulled over by the police during a bender. A great fan of the canine species, he'd surely have sung "I Love my Dog as Much as I Love You" to his one night stands, but "Baby Get Your Head Screwed On" could have been a lesson turned inward, and quite possibly through some heavy self-analysis, Mr. Bush may have gone down a path of healing which could have resolved some of his issues with his father.
Had he listened to Cat Stevens, he might, therefore, have sought some long term counseling and learned to be able to admit when he made mistakes, learn to have empathy for others, learn that he needed to develop cognitively so that he could navigate through complex thinking patterns which require seeing paradox, embracing ambiguity, understanding differences between self and other, tolerating confusion, developing higher forms of critical thinking, and hence living in a world of moral nuance, social diversity, and multi-cultural vision, instead of moral absolutes and us/them over-simplification. He may have developed a humane outlook on life and been prepared to engage in civil discussions which allow for a wide range of perspectives, which have as much listening as talking involved so he could respect and tolerate difference, understand ideas different from his own and strive for the greater good, come to if not agreement, at least understanding and benevolence. After several years of psychoanalysis, say, along with some heavy reading, he might have learned that growing up involves being open-minded and flexible, sensitive and patient, humble and selfless, virtues that take a lot of work to cultivate and sustain. In short, he may have become an existential humanist and found his niche in social work, education or health care.
The early seventies, while George was carousing, were extremely creative years for Cat Stevens, who produced "Tea for the Tillerman" and "Teaser and the Firecat", albums that made him famous worldwide. The introspective nature of many of Cat Stevens' songs of this time, including "Sitting," and "Tuesday's Dead", along with the more obscure "The Wind," and "Miles from Nowhere," would have been a welcome respite for the Yale Cheerleader partying at Deke House. In 1972, the year George Bush challenged his father to a fistfight, Cat Stevens released another great album, "Catch Bull at Four". Is it inconceivable that George didn't get a chance to hear Cat sing? How could he have missed "Father and Son" after the "mano a mano" incident? Had he listened to this song, he'd have sensed a certain kinship with the musician and he'd have understood that instead of coming to blows, the attentive listener is offered a peaceful and fruitful solution to the overbearing father: hit the road*not join the guard.
If Bush had a semblance of nuance to him he'd have no doubt recognized the anguish of pushing against his father, and he'd have recognized the need for his father to sculpt him into a miniature Bush (hence the name), but had he taken to heart "Father and Son", he'd have realized he was not his father, he could not be his father, and that his path was different. Bush would have been able to make the connection between "Father and son", whose son knows he has "to go away," and the narrator in "On the Road to Find Out", who quite possibly is that son on his journey; it's as basic as the three little pigs: sooner or later, you have to leave your home and make your way in the world, painful as that may be. Unfortunately, George Jr. has spent much of his life trying to live up to his father's image and his quest has been stunted. This has turned into a fiasco of world proportions. Had he listened to Cat Stevens, he quite possibly would have grown up to be a peace mediator instead of an extension of a destructive dynasty.
Our energy and environmental policies, if created by a Cat Stevens' devotee, would no doubt conform to a green vision. What, for example, would have traveled through Mr. Bush's head while he poised his presidential pen over dismantling pollution regulations, over the idea that deforesting the US is good for the forest, if he'd been raised on Stevens' verse? Would a Stevens' lover allow snowmobiles to race through Yellowstone? Would he suppress global warming data or diss the Kyoto treaty? How would he have dealt with a Halliburton or Enron after endlessly listening to "Where do the Children Play?", the lines of which conflate trucks "pumping petrol gas" and rolling over "fresh green grass" with excessive development? Perhaps while he visited with his energy people and his environmental cadre, he could have replayed in his mind "King of Trees", a song lamenting the destruction of the forests. He would not be so prone to roaming his ranch in Crawford and cutting them down, perhaps. Is it so difficult, on the contrary, to imagine, after taking "Moonshadow", "Into White," and the classic "Morning has Broken" into his heart, Mr. Bush would have sat himself down under a tree and considered his place in nature? Possibly taken up a copy of Rousseau or Walden and turned pantheistic? Would our president, under the tutelage of Cat Stevens, have become a tree-hugger?
It is difficult, but imagine the green George holding a copy of Cat Stevens' album Buddha and the Chocolate Box in 1974 when in fact he'd burned off Superbowl Sunday at a Hunter S Thompson party that year; imagine him staring at the golden Buddha and wondering about the "higher laws". Rather than a walk on the beach with Billy Graham, imagine George plunged into existential despair and reading eastern religion, absorbed by the yin and yang of it all, transfixed by those Zen Koans. If Mr. Bush had sifted through Stevens' music for answers, more often than not he may have found questions, but questions can be a good place to begin one's spiritual journey. Sooner or later, however, even the dimmest bulb sees patterns, like Stevens' summons to "love everything." Our president as a young adult may have been perplexed at the "The Boy with the Moon and Star on his Head", even if he understood the final line: "I'll tell you everything I've learned, and Love is all...he said." Still, if he had done some investigating, he might have linked the song to Islam, the moon and star being symbols of that religion, and had he been driven to read the Koran thereafter, is it impossible to picture Abu Bush?
In November of this year, as the US death toll in Iraq approached the record, Yusuf Islam, aka Cat Stevens, was presented with the "Man for Peace" prize in Rome during a meeting of Nobel Peace Prize laureates. Islam founded Small Kindness, a charity which has donated to victims of 9/11. Had President Bush listened to Cat Stevens as a young man, perhaps he'd have become a wacko lefty tree hugging child psychologist who could whistle "Peace Train" at the drop of a hat. And then, instead of invading Iraq, he'd have protested the pre-emptive attack.
