something about Dalton Trumbo's "Johnny Got His Gun"

Johnny Got His Gun, a well-known anti-war novel by American writer Dalton Trumbo, chronicles a soldier's waking nightmare. The protagonist is Joe Bonham, a young American whose service in World War I costs him his arms, legs, vision, hearing, and mouth. Bonham, disoriented and displaced, regains consciousness in what turns out to be a hospital bed and gradually realizes the nightmare: that his mind is doomed to live on as the prisoner of a helpless, unidentified, and incommunicable torso on a hospital bed.

Bonham’s reckoning with his fate, his reasons for going to war, and the horror of it all comes amid rushes of pre-war memories. He also uses what remains of his senses to interpret his environment, and he grows determined to communicate with the hospital staff that keep him alive against his will.

Bonham’s extended memory flashbacks did not often connect with me, but some passages set in the present moved me in their intensity of anxiety and outrage.

Notes:

• Johnny Got His Gun was written in 1938 and published in 1939.
• Trumbo was blacklisted by Hollywood but continued working under pseudonyms. The influence of the blacklist soon waned, and he resumed getting credit for his accomplishments during his remarkable career.
• Trumbo directed the 1971 film adaptation of Johnny Got His Gun.
• Hearing Metallica’s single, “One,” around 1992, was my introduction to Johnny Got His Gun. The music video uses clips from the film.

something about hearing the guitar tone

In sixth grade, my friend popped in his older brother’s cassette single of “One.” I was immediately drawn in by the song’s tense simplicity and perfect storytelling. And then came the compressed, poured-on layers of heavy-metal guitar tracks. That is what music should sound like, I thought. When I got an electric guitar and Metal Zone distortion pedal, I tried to get that sound: the shoosh of distortion—as much as possible—with the high and low maxed on the equalizer, the mid turned way down. It took me a long time to stop seeing that sound as the peak and to develop an appreciation for a heavy sound where each guitar string is alive.

the lyrics to Metallica's "Damage, Inc."

Dealing out the agony within
Charging hard and no one's gonna give in
Living on your knees, conformity
Or dying on your feet for honesty
Inbred, our bodies work as one
Bloody, but never cry submission
Following our instinct not a trend
Go against the grain until the end

Blood will follow blood
Dying time is here
Damage Incorporated

Slamming through, don't fuck with razorback
Stepping out? You'll feel our hell on your back
Blood follows blood and we make sure
Life ain't for you and we're the cure
Honesty is my only excuse
Try to rob us of it, but it's no use
Steamroller action crushing all
Victim is your name and you shall fall

We chew and spit you out
We laugh, you scream and shout
All flee, with fear you run
You'll know just where we come from
Damage Incorporated
Damage jackals ripping right through you
Sight and smell of this, it gets me goin'
Know just how to get just what we want
Tear it from your soul in nightly hunt
Fuck it all and fucking no regrets
Never happy ending on these dark sets
All's fair for Damage Inc. you see
Step a little closer if you please

 
Notes: Song credits - James Hetfield, Clifford Burton, Kirk Hammett, and Lars Ulrich. Copyright Creeping Death Music.

(posts) Danzig's "Am I Demon"

about Dave Mustaine's autobiography

One of the great dramas in modern American music is the feud and history between Dave Mustaine and Metallica. Mustaine played lead guitar in Metallica's original lineup and even wrote a share of the songs that launched that band's massive, successful career. But personality conflicts led Lars and James to fire Mustaine just as the band was breaking out. Mustaine went on to form Megadeth, also huge, but only half as successful as Metallica in terms of record sales. In all this, Mustaine established himself as a primary figure in the development and growth of American thrash metal, and will go down as a one of metal and hard rock's most influential guitarists.

The elegantly titled Mustaine is the muscian's autobiography. He can write it now because Megadeth ceased being relevant and dangerous a while back and Mustaine himself has emerged from the reckless rock-star life a born-again Christian and music businessman. Of course, he's certainly capable of reinventing himself and surprising us; it just seems more and more unlikely that he'll do so.

The following does the man a great injustice, but the fast and dirty Mustaine is this: He grew up poor in an unstable family with an alcoholic father; his mother moved him around a lot to escape the dad's influence, but this influenced Dave such that he grew into a misfit; the experiences impaired his ability to form lasting, healthy friendships; he started getting into music and rock bands, eventually seeing real potential with Metallica; but personality conflicts and alcohol soured his relationship with the band and they kicked him out; so Mustaine built Megadeth, and with them (and their various lineups) he lived the rock star's life, colored with bitterness. His whole life he's felt broken, more or less, and in need of fixing. His breakup with Metallica left him bitter and jealous. After multiple stints in rehab, he found Christ and has sustained living a more wholesome life as a father and husband. He intends to maintain a musical career in some form or fashion

On playing guitar and finding music:

I was pretty good at playing guitar, and I was serious about making a living at it. But that wasn't the only reason I played. It wasn't only about strutting an getting laid and trying to become famous. When I held a guitar in my hands, I felt good about myself. When I played music, I felt a sense of comfort and accomplishment that I'd never known as a child. When I replicated the songs that I loved, I felt an attachment to them and to the musicians who had composed them.

On setting off with Metallica:

It was all incredibly exciting and disorienting and vaguely unsettling. We'd been starving for days, and all of a sudden people were throwing food at us. I remember looking at myself in a mirror when I woke up one morning and noticing that my stomach was grotesquely distended. Of course, that could have had something to do with the fact that I was drunk or stoned virtually every waking moment. The party never stopped. Booze, cocaine, pot, meth--it was everywhere, and it was mine for the asking. Along with groupies, the quality and volume of which seemed to be improving by the day. We'd do an appearance or a gig, or just show up at a party, and everyone wanted to hang with us.

"You're a bad motherfucker!" they'd shout.

I'd nod approvingly. I was a bad motherfucker. And proud of it

On a period when Metallica was living and rehearsing at a space in Queens, New York City:

We'd wake up in the middle of the day, eat, drink a little bit to take the edge off the hangover, hang out, and then go back to sleep. sometime after sundown we'd wake again, like a pack of fucking vampires, and start playing. We'd rehearse for a few hours, then drink until we passed out. The next day we'd do it all over again.

On the events leading up to his being fired from Metallica:

Certainly I had no idea that my tenure in the band was about to come to an end, and that indeed plans for my dismissal were already in the works. It is a testament to my naivete--or perhaps to my alcohol-induced complacency--that even as strange things happened, I failed to take any action.

On his jealousy and bitterness about Metallica:

I know some people look at me--and I include Lars and James in this camp--and say, "Why can't you just be happy with what you've achieved?" And they're right. Selling twenty million albums is no minor accomplishment. But it's about half what Metallica has sold, and I was supposed to be part of that.

You had to be there to understand what it was like, to feel like you're changing the world. And then to have it pulled out from under you and to see and hear reminders of what might have been every single day, for the rest of your life. And know--you just fucking know--whatever you accomplish, somehow it will never be quite good enough.

On Megadeth's eventually watering down and becoming more single/pop-oriented:

I wanted a number one hit. I wanted what Metallica had, even if it meant selling a piece of my soul to the devil ... I suspected they (the producers) were making modifications, softening the Megadeth sound, and I did nothing to stop them. There would be a payoff at the end, I reasoned ... Megadeth was a phenomenon based on raw energy and talent, and when you take that and water it down, it's no longer phenomenal. It's ordinary. By trying to expand your audience, you risk alienating your core fans, and I think we did that with Cryptic Writings, and even more so with our next record, the aptly named Risk.