Book 5 – Diomedes –
Ok, my name is Diomedes, I’m on the Greek side and this is about get confusing
so here’s a quick review. We’re battling the Trojans and for a series of
strange reasons, the gods start to take sides in this battle. Each one has his
or her own motive, but maybe they just got tired of sitting up there on Mount
Olympus waiting for someone to squeeze up some more nectar. So here it is:
Aphrodite, Ares and Apollo are fighting for the Trojans. Aphrodite because
Paris picked her way back in that wedding fiasco and Ares because he likes war,
I guess, and Aphrodite is his mom. Apollo’s involved because of that whole
booty girl controversy above. Hera and Athena are fighting for the Greeks
because Paris (a Trojan) didn’t pick them in the wedding bet and of course,
they are the main gods of the Greeks. Zeus is trying to stay out of trouble but
not doing a good job of it. To be very clear: the Greeks and the Trojans would
not be fighting at all if it weren’t for the gods. Zeus started it with the
whole Helen/Menelaus/Paris/Aphrodite/Hera/Athena “who’s the fairest” mess and
then kept it alive with by allowing Athena and Hera to intervene to keep the
action going. Repeatedly. So the crafty Pandarus wounds me in the battle, I
pray to Athena who is all too ready to pitch in. She endows me with superhuman
strength and I start to lay waste to the Trojan army, but she says I can only
confront Aphrodite among the gods on the battlefield. That’s fine at first as I
blast Aeneus, Aphrodite’s son. She comes to stop me from finishing him off so I
spear her in the wrist. This sends her back to the Olympus ER but then Apollo
jumps in the mix and I go after him. Athena gets pissed at me for forgetting my
vow to only go after Aphrodite, but it doesn’t really matter since Apollo eats
my lunch anyway. Hector and Ares on the Trojan side start to gel a bit and we
are put on the defensive. Odysseus steps
up and starts to drop numerous Trojans. Next thing I know both Hera and Athena
are on the battlefield fighting for the Greeks and gearing us up. Athena
retracts the Only-Aphrodite rule and she and I jump into a chariot and blow up
Ares, who also is forced to retreat to the Olympus ER, where in the waiting
room he is made fun of by Zeus for getting wounded by a mortal. Me! Ha ha ho
ho! [Don’t mention the fact that I had been given superhuman cheat codes by
Athena.]
Double Ajax
Friday, June 1, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Iliad by Homer - Double Ajax Summary Book 4

Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Iliad by Homer - Double Ajax Summary Book 3
Book 3 – Helen –
So Agamemnon and his Greeks show up to confront the Trojan army. My new
“husband” Paris, the one that Aphrodite gifted me to after he chose her over
Athena and Hera during the drunken wedding bet, starts strutting around in
front of his Trojan buddies talking about how many Greeks he’s gonna beat up,
etc, but then my old, or “real” husband, Menelaus shows up and says: “Hey pal!
Why don’t we settle this once and for all! You started this whole thing when
you took my wife (me) at that wedding! If I win, the Greeks win and you pay us
a huge ransom and if I lose, you guys win the war. By the way it’s a fight to
the death!” Mind you, I happen to know that my old husband Menelaus is a much
bigger and braver dude that Paris and, well, Paris knows this too. So Paris
decides to wimp out and make a run for it. His big brother Hector catches him,
calls him out for being a pansy and pushes him back into the one-on-one mortal
combat with Menelaus which everyone knows he can’t win. They bring me out to
watch because, why not, I have a vested interest in the outcome here since I’m
sorta the trophy. They battle some, then Menelaus overcomes Paris and starts
dragging him around by the helmet, but then Aphrodite (her again!!) intervenes,
frees Paris just before he’s about to bite it and drops him back in his palace.
Menelaus is pissed because he feels like he’s just won the war for everyone
based on the deal he made with Paris (he did, but the gods intervened) and
where the heck is Paris? He’s with me. I yell at him, taunt him a bit about
wimping out in front of my old husband. Then we make love. It’s a Trojan thing,
you wouldn’t understand.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Iliad by Homer - Double Ajax Summary Book 2
Book 2 – Zeus –
So my big idea after Achilles' mom convinced me to rally the Trojans to make
Achilles' comeback all that more sweet (I know, seems like a long shot, but it
pissed off Hera, which was kinda my plan all along), was to insert a dream in
Agamemnon’s head about how he should invade the Trojans. He decides to spin
that the next morning into telling his troops that they can go home now and
they don’t really have to fight. This was intended to make them show their
resolve and bravery and say no sir we’d really like to fight. Welp, that plan
backfired as they all shouted for joy and ran to their ships. Only after my
resident tricky badass Odysseys ran down to the ships and started inspiring
them to fight instead, mostly by calling them stuff like fools, deserters and
rank cowards. It worked.
Iliad by Homer - Double Ajax Summary Book 1
Iliad – Book Summary
as recounted by the main characters in the action

Book 1 – Achilles
– Look, everyone knows Agamemnon was asking for it when he took as his booty
the favorite daughter of one of Apollo’s priests. Once Apollo found out about
Chrysies’ abduction he dropped arrow bombs all over our Greek behinds. I had no
idea what was happening but I know this soothsayer who ended up telling me that
Apollo was behind the plagues so I confronted Agamemnon who told me to stick it
and we got in a bit of a scrap when resulted in him returning Chrysies and thus
quieting Apollo but then he decided to take my pretty abductee Briseis in her
stead. I then flew into a rage, called him a few names (was “dog-face” excessive?),
then started crying, then went and found my mom, who by the way is owed a few
favors by Zeus, who convinces Zeus to punish the Greeks (my own army by the
way) for this action. Zeus agrees, but ends up getting in a snit with his wife
Hera, who doesn’t want to help the Trojans because of Paris didn’t choose her
at the wedding. Their relationship is complicated to say the least. I decide to
withhold my legendary battle skills and await a bat signal moment because that
would make me feel much better.
Location:
Brooklyn, NY 11215, USA
The Peacocks (featuring Jack White) at Roseland 5/22/12
As
I sat eating the pickles off my pulled pork sandwich at the Double Windsor, I could sense the excitement of anticipation I haven’t felt
music-wise in a long time. Well, maybe the Radiohead show at Roseland a few
months ago was on a similar level. I had Jack’s entire catalog up on a mix on
my phone so the subway ride in (F to the B) was filled with Ball & Biscuit,
Black Math, Freedom at 21, Hustle and Cuss, Difference Between Us. Earlier in
the day, my musical prep also included learning and recording Dead Leaves and
the Dirty Ground, after watching Jack give a lesson on youtube to
Jimmy Page and Edge. My B train lifted me straight on to Broadway and 52nd
where I saw the massive block long ROSELAND sign and the 4 block long line of
folks waiting to get in. A courteous email (and phone call!) from ticketmaster
earlier in the day had informed me that the doors would be opening an hour
earlier than printed on the ticket, presumably to accommodate the simulcast on
SiriusXMU that night. I confirmed with the bouncer – a massive well-mannered
hulk who was politely fielding all kinds of inquiries on how to get in without
a ticket (I’m sorry, ma’am) – that the Shakes would be going on at 8 or 8:30.
Adam had warned me that there would be leagues of wonderful women at the show,
but from the look of the line it was 5:1 hairy men to girls. The ladies that
were there looked more ready for an Ani Difranco concert. But then I realized
that hot chicks don’t show up early for anything, not even Jack White. Billy appeared
as promised at the stroke of 7. Doors were opening at Roseland behind us, but
we decided to get our game faces on with a few pints of Smithwicks and a burger
at a nearby Irish bar.
At
7:45 we arrived at Roseland with the line entirely gone and crowd safely
ensconced in the legendary dance hall. We strolled in, got an over 21 wrist band
and walked into the crowd. Wow, the bars were full but manageable and the floor
was only half full. At the same point in the September Radiohead show there
were folks hanging from the rafters, no room on the floor at all and 25 deep in
the bars. I felt like the organizers decided not to oversell the place which
made for a good feel. I said “nice shirt” to the guy with the Hendrix shirt,
“love the shirt” to the girl with the Grateful Dead shirt and “great band” to
the guy with the Black Keys shirt. At 8:15, Britney Howard and the Alabama
Shakes walked on. The roadies had inserted their gear in a small circle that
was surrounded by Jack’s band’s equipment. It was the cramped opener setup that
the Stones used to do to their opening acts: when you are done, we want to
change some plugs and pull off some tarps and get to rocking. It made for a
very comfortable intimate setting for the Shakes as all they played within a
few feet of each other. Britney came out howling from the first note. The band
was tight and right behind her through her dramatic starts and stops, thrusts
and pokes and screams. She grooved forced the crowd to feel her ample hips. She
even dropped some soaring guitar solos to add to the magic.
I
waded in to the bar and moved up next to an exotic looking woman in a large sun
hat, leather jacket and white pants. She wasn’t making a move to signal the
bartender and I asked if I could assist. She said she was thinking about asking
for a double vodka but wasn’t sure about how to go about it. I shouted to the
bartender for two Heinekens and a double vodka and turned to her: “Have
you ever heard of Bianca Jagger?” She said, yes. “Well, you are a dead ringer
for Bianca Jagger in her prime.” She smiled a smile as big as a bright crescent
moon and said “Thank you so much, I’ll take that as a compliment. A big one.” I
told her that’s what it was. We looked at each other for a few moments and
smiled. She took a sip of her $8.50 double vodka and then floated into the
heavens.
By
that time, Bill’s and my roost on the floor about 20 people back had been
overwhelmed by extremely tall men with hats and elephant ears. Roseland is a
terrible place to see a show if you are short. These guys were at least 6
inches taller than me and I’m 5’10”ish. You could turn around and look at the
faces to see who could actually see the stage. If their eyes reflected light
from the stage, they could see. If their eyes were in shadows, they could see
nothing. There were many eyes in the shadows. Throughout the night I would talk
to the girls next to me, who averaged 5’0” it seemed: Can you see? No. Nothing
at all. But it sounds great! Do you want to sit on my shoulders? Yes,
please! We shifted over to stand behind the girls, because, uhh, we could
see better. And it just smelled better.
The
roadies all wore black suits, black shirts, blue ties and black hats. It looked
like 10 Elvis Costellos plugging in guitars and moving stuff around. Jack
strode in just after 9:30pm. Radio time. Girl band. The Peacocks. All glad in
Victorian formal dresses. Flowing when they moved. I couldn’t have been more
excited. The timing of the band was staggering. He walked from backstage,
around the pedal steel station, directly to the front mic and without pausing
to slow down and wave, screamed “SHE’S GOT STICKERS IN HER LOCKER!” The
drums and bass exploded at that instant. This wasn’t your father’s girl band.
The sound was bigger than huge. Confident, strident, soaring. But the drums.
Holy crap. John Bonham, Keith Moon and the goddesses of love and hope had
combined to form Carla Azar’s energy and sound. Bare feet. Traditional left
handed grip. Pure force. The bass player – pregnant (“playing for two”
Jack would later admit) – was getting some hairy fuzz tone out of a stand up
bass. A stunning redheaded keyboard player swayed and worked her organ. From
the back a blond Danish pedal steel guitar player delivered the melodic lines,
really taking the pressure off of Jack to be more free on the stage. There was
a violin back there, too? She danced as much as she played and it rocked. After
Saltines, the crimson keyboardist played the circular riff that signaled
Missing Pieces. Jack went over to her mic and speed sang his rhymes inches from
her face. They were already gelling.
It
was 10 years since I had seen the White Stripes at the Bowery Ballroom. Back
then a slightly chubbier (in tight red and white garb) Jack ripped it up with
his Meg in an intimate venue. Like today, he was in total control then. You
could see he was gravitating to his right often to shout into the mic in the
drum set because that’s what he’d do with Meg. But Carla was syncopating in
ways Meg could only dream of. In the Stripes, Jack was the guitar player, bass
player, rhythm, lead and backing sound. Now he had a strong band that delivered
his bass lines, melody and counter melody from a pedal steel guitar, violin and
piano. It freed him up to sing and punch riffs and solos wherever he wanted.
Dead
Leaves came next. Totally new sound. Larger and wider. Not better but different.
A new voice appeared in the form of a lovely backup singer Ruby Amanfu who
seemed totally unfazed when Jack would sidle over to scream in her mic as she
was singing. Love Interruption was next and
a perfect song to play with this band. Everyone harmonizing vocals around
Jack’s beat up acoustic guitar. Ruby starred in this one taking center stage
with Jack. Yeah, I won’t let love disrupt corrupt or interrupt me. (higher) I
won’t let love disrupt corrupt or interrupt me. (lower) I won’t let love
disrupt corrupt or interrupt me. Any more. (whispered).
“What
do you want me to play??? I’ll play anything you want!” Jack smiled. The crowd
heaved, the drummer went click click click click and Hotel Yorba came flying
out. Place went wild. It seemed that everyone knew every word. I been
thinking of a little place down by the lake they got a dirty little
road leading up to the house I wonder how long it’ll take. This is where I missed
Meg. This was the only song she really sang on for the Stripes that I recall
and it seemed that something sweet and innocent was gone.
A
few songs later, Jack pulled out an acoustic version of the Raconteurs’ Top
Yourself. I don’t know if he had a different type of influence when he wrote
those Raconteurs songs but they are really structured superbly well. More
nuanced and advanced than the straight ahead Stripes stuff. Top Yourself first
electrified the crowd as it seems that many of the younger folks were too young
for the Stripes. Is that possible? But then they settled into his Memphis-type
retelling of the tune and that was quite alright for all comers.
Back
to the piano for Hypocritical Kiss. Playing back to back with the red wonder in
a number that seems as a counterpart or sequel to Missing Pieces. Watching his
hands I decided to learn piano so I could play stuff like that. That idea was
quickly squashed as Jack then launched into the heavy heavy heavy Blue Blood
Blues dead weather riff. Maybe I’ll stick with the guitar and just play stuff
like this. Yeah. Crack a bone!!! Crack a bone!!! Crack a bone!! The bass and
guitar were a squadron of B-17 bombers over Ploesti. Boom boom crack crack
crack crack. Singing Sunday Service!!
Another
fun sing-along moment when the team played the Stripes I Think We Are Gonna Be
Friends and then went into the Jack/Danger Mouse masterpiece Two Against One.
The mirror is a trigger and your mouth's a gun. At this point you really felt
you were a part of something.
I
like Freedom at 21. He’s been playing it on the TV circuit so every knows it. A
derivation of the Seven Nation Army lick and the rapidfire lyrics with a
message that makes the girls feel great and the boys feel played. Also gives
Jack the opportunity to rip high speed guitar licks on his custom tinkered
tele.
Carolina
Drama appears. I loved this one from my first listen. A great story song from
the Raconteurs that twists and turns with blood and milk all over the floor.
I’m not sure if there is a point to the story but I’m glad he decided to tell
it again.
The
set ends with bluesy Ball & Biscuit. Some guy asks his buddy behind me if
this is a Dead Weather song. “No! It’s the fucking Stripes!!!” He screams.
Straight up hard blues. Let’s have a ball, girl and take our sweet time about
it.

A
loud rumbling noise emerged from the side of the auditorium where Jack appeared
on a sidestage mid crowd with his boy band Los Buzzardos. New band, new sound,
new angle, special treat. Black Math: Punk guitar riffs and machine gun drums.
VIPs who were sitting on that side stage watching the front stage were running
around wild. Holding up iPhones and sticking them in Jack’s face as he
screamed. It was like American Bandstand where the band plays amid the fans.
Now the place went nuts. Everyone missed the girls but these guys could bring
it too. They started to Cut Like a Buffalo and the boy bass player strutted his
stuff. The crowd was heaving and humping hard to this one. Apex of the show.
Jump jump jump we all went. Is that you chokin? Or are you just jokin? The
slippery slide guitar appeared for an extended Catch Hell Blues. Roseland
Ballroom is transformed into a Mississippi juke joint. We are sweating, moving,
banging our heads, raising our arms. Try and catch me!
Jack
finishes up and smiles at the crowd. Somehow spontaneously the crowd starts to
hum/sing the intro to Seven Nation Army. He smiles bigger. We hum/sing louder.
He delivers and now we are stomping. I’m gonna fight em off! After a
burning tour de force he’s gone.
Back
out on Broadway, Billy and I hail a cab. Where we going now? I’m not done, says
Bill. Me neither. We head back to Brooklyn for beers and a plate of fried chicken
and collared greens. I just didn’t want to stop feeling and tasting.
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