Dear CNN, New York Times, Washington Post, Fox News, and MSNBC,

Really!? I mean, really.

Early yesterday afternoon, I heard on generic- American radio that Michael Jackson has passed. ("What!?" you say, "I had no idea!!!!") This was followed up with 10 text messages and phone calls. And that's all good and well. It's a tragic event for the man's nearest and dearest to be sure, and it is certainly a noteworthy moment in pop cultural history. TMZ called it first, and that's to be expected. They are idiots. As idiots, it is their job to be obsessed with this shit. But radio stations throughout the country were holding off on playing the latest Lady GaGa and speculating about the King of Pop's death until it was finally FINALLY confirmed by CNN. At this point, I turned the station. Nothing but best-of-MJ. Everywhere.

Fortunately, I found NPR up in northern Wisconsin... NO! Not fortunately! I heard an hour, A WHOLE FUCKING HOUR of a pre-recorded obituary about the man, his early childhood, his bungled adolescence, the rocky early adulthood, the genius, and then the media-driven but !we are not completely responsible sir! downfall. I get to my aunt's house. 2 HOURS LATER. We turn on the television. Fox has it (but I mean, ok who didn't call that), NBC has it, CNN has it. Really.

We turn off the t.v. We have a lovely evening of grilling, drinking red wine on the porch, watching the pink clouds, waiting for the sun to set which out here happens at about 10... Then we check the t.v. STILL ON! Every news outlet! Except for MTV! Even MTV was too good for it! And it's not like the news had changed! It was the same shit!

I ask you this, media. What's going on in Tehran? I heard there was an election and subsequent protests, but I mean, is that still "game on"? Aren't people being denied their rights to public demonstrations? Aren't they being beaten by police in riot gear? If you guys put HALF as much energy into figuring out whether or not voter fraud played a significant role in the Iranian election as you did in the fact that a sorry excuse for a pop icon tragically died too soon (I feel like I've heard this shtick before...), well let's just say you'd be able to proudly call yourselves "journalists." 


Leave it to America to ruin a good thing every time it magically falls out of the chasm of whatever. And I was just in the middle of writing a happy little song about the experience of being in Harlem on November 4th. It was going to be a cute little tribute to Randy Newman, and it was going to end with a cover of "America the Beautiful," except incorporating the little-known non-cheesy verses. I was waxing optimistic about how "ooo I finally understand those words..." But right now, I just can't bring myself to finish it.

Really. I mean really.

Sincerely,
Stephanie Elizabeth Sarah Lucia Nilles

PS- I guess this means I'm going to have to lay off the tasteless child molestation jokes. What, 6 weeks? Is that an acceptable mourning period? This is going to cut my body of work in the world of comedy in half...

kool aid stand:
i should've
been a lawyer
but law school's expensive
so instead, i write songs

about how my boyfriend
broke up with me
and he don't love me
oh how can i go on...

cause you can't write songs
about tax abatement
or filibusters
cause nothing rhymes with that shit
except for filibusters
and tax abatement
and besides which

you can't change anybody's mind
by the time they finish their
bottles of chardonnay
so just take the time you've got
and go
on your way

seems like everybody
is a critic
selling opinions at kool-aid stands
out of paper cups
meanwhile my heart
is a songbird
taking a chainsaw to my ribcage
and still she's stuck

cause you can't write songs
about tax abatement
or filibusters
cause nothing rhymes with that shit
except for shmilibusters
and shmax abatement
and besides which

you can't change anybody's mind
by the time they finish their
bottles of chimay
so just take the time you've got
and go
on your way

and honestly
i want to feel
no sense of constant
urgency
i want to sit here
i want to be
cause

you can't change everybody's mind
by the time they finish their
bottles of chardonnay
so just take the time you've got
and go
on your way

you can't change anybody's mind
by the time you finish that
box of cabernet
so just take the time you've got
and go
on your way


my favorite things:
[part I: the east village coffee bar]
we've got lines
of coke
but we pay them
no heed
and we've got boxes
of white wine
but we don't sleep
around
we write down
all our stories
and compile 'em
way up high
and in our dangling hats and our feathered boas
we are a
vaudeville show

[part II: leon fleisher]
you and i
are equally stubborn
and we are
equally proud
so you see how
it ain't never gonna happen
not this time
or the next time
or the next time around
and i'm sorry
that you badly
hurt your hand
before i was born
and i'm sorry
that you're not
a handsome man
anymore
and i think it's funny
the way you treat me
is to compensate
for what never occurred
and now i know
that you're an asshole
but when you play
you are one of my
favorite things

[part III: cleveland]
you've got lines
of dollar bills
but i pay them
no heed
except i follow you
and your friends around
and live
vicariously
then i go searching
for treasure
in the back seat
of your limousine
and i spill
half the bottle
on my dress
half-
intentionally
yes i lived once
in a freakhouse
on the cleveland
scene
with the
overcast vibe
of empathetic
apology
and still
she is one of my
favorite things

[part IV: W.]
you
were a mistake
and i mean that
in the worst way
cause when we begged you
to stop it
you just
waved
from behind
the comfort
of your t.v.
t.v. screen
but you just don't
get it, do you?
you're no churchill
not accidentally
but your legacy
hinges on this
for the remainder
of your stay
so i've gotta say
you were never
ever
really

present


caution tape:
beauty is the sunset in the windows of abandoned buildings
before the crackheads moved in
chivalry is the dealer who wouldn't dare give his buddy up
but he sells cause his grandmother needs her pills
humility if being hand-cuffed and questioned facing the neighborhood
against a backdrop of police in riot gear
and honesty is a virtue, or so they tell you
unless of course you live here

"bloomberg knows everything," says the man toting three children out of the house
down the street and around the bend
truth is the boy chasing the commissioner down broadway, yelling
"you don't care! why pretend?"
stupidity is taking pictures of the scene with his i-phone
symbolic of privilege by circumstance
ignorance is insistence that he gets it
cause he saw sicko once, so he understands
foolery is a republic with an electoral system
in which a non-democrat is about to win the democratic ticket
but irony is the poet who knows it's just as well
because at least she can still sing about the same ol' shit

the same old shit
it's the same old shit

cruelty drags an old woman out in her nightgown scantily clad
her bare feet tiptoeing across years of shattered sidewalk glass
and buddy, if you can't cut that caution tape faster than the length of this song
you should not wear that
badge


ode to tequila:
[inspired by lach, written for larry craig]
early august the gypsies come to town
and set up shop in the square
the wooden lanterns wave "hello" in the summer breeze
while the dogs are barking in the bar downstairs

and back in the states, patience sings a tune
so haunting
for a moment you cannot remember your name
and all of sugar hill is slammin' it down the street
and i think, from now on, i am not what i do
i am only what i hear or see

but how come mexico mixes better tequila
and the coffee is tastier under santa lucia
and the grass is always greener 'cross town
where the water doesn't seep so far underground

and if you're tired of being sick and tired
go ahead, rest your head against the bathroom wall
cause your kenneth coles are now the greatest civic tool
in the history of bathroom stalls

you know, i can pin down a vibe
like you read tea leaves
and i still remember that night
we learned how drunk and invisible we could be

we laughed our way around town
and climbed up the walls of the free stamp
we vowed to do so much so soon
that was the night we learned we could hold up the moon
in one hand

and i know euphoria is just too many tequilas
when every breath is a gift
and all you can hear is your heartbeat
and you think, there must be nothing more important than this

yes, euphoria is just too many tequilas
when, in spite of it all,
at least your kenneth coles are now the greatest civic weapon
in this history of bathroom stalls


beacon of liberty:
i couldn't be happier here
in my contentment
with this newspaper
and this styrofoam cup

but if you ain't from 'round here
you seem to calculate every movement
and make a beeline
'cross the platform above

cause all the tourists
are on the
A-train

and i don't care what you say
i'm having this slurpee for breakfast
like starbucks and rockefeller
makes the quintessential american christmas

and after we retrace our steps
i'm heading straight for the met
armed with duct tape
and a dadaist canvas

and i'm gonna be famous
just like them
until the canvas falls down
again

and we were all tourists
when we arrived on that island
and she was so graciously
waving us in

and we were bewildered
and wide-eyed
and beautifully confused

but now (in all of this impatience)
we're hearded 'round like panicked cows
with mostly fear
in your eyes

and it's a much different
it's a much different
view

so bring me your poor and your tired
with only hope and the clothes on your backs
you must be so sea-sick and exhausted
what with all the odds against you so stacked

but we will keep you safe here and forever be
a provider of all that you've lacked
unless of course you're too poor or too tired
then we're gonna send you right back


asinine
i've been born a hundred times before
and i will again be born a hundred times more
as if her resolve to become something more
would compensate for the doldrum that came, came

yes i am made of many things
of many unfortunate things
and i don't know what it is about this
that i can't stop changing my mind enough to get up off of my ass

and she wonders

did you control your mouth? did you keep your brain steady?
did you move at each opportunity to make your own way?
and did you stay open to each possibility
to bring yourself back to the person you should be
by now?

yes i thought i could get away with it
that this asinine lifestyle of mine would just
disappear with quarter age in time
but i know now

that

i am a small abomination
far as abominations go
but at least i'm no famed self-proclaimed do-gooder
with my baby-snatching manifestos
cause 'seems like when privilege gets under your skin
you spend your precious infectious time overseas
instead of fixing what's here
instead of fixing what's within
within

and just how easy would it be for me to abort all growth
when all i have to communicate fits in a magazine?
oh she's so beautiful, my country
in her grandmother's pearls and her porcelain smile
and her obscene submission
and we were fishin'
down by the river, for shoes
when you came by
to give us a talking-to
you said, "excuse me, but i've got a degree in women's studies
and also there's a twenty percent chance of rain."
tell me, what is the deal with all of these
sixteen-year-old twenty-three-year-old girls?

yes i thought i could get away with it
that this asinine lifestyle of mine would just
disappear with quarter age in time
but i know now

that

me and my friends
we's all misunderstuck
cause we know
that all the wrong people have all the wrong powers
and are looking down their noses from their little ivory towers
and all of the stuff that you say is the same
it's all about loss of love and the stars up above
and she's on your mind
all the time
and "if you trust your t.v. what you see is what you got and if you own the information you can bend it all you want" but
i saw you on that talk show
so maybe that's enough, john mayer

but at least i know now it's not all because
of those sixteen-year-old twenty-three-year-old girls


eliezer and joshua:
what's with this longing to always be such a bitch?
why do you let them make you so mad?
cause you know if they ain't got it by now
that ain't never ever gonna understand

and what's with this tendency to always struggle all on your own
even when someone lends you a hand?
it's like you're just swimming away from your sense of entitlement
and you may be right
but you're also so sad

it's not that i wish to be here all alone
in this well-spent righteousness
just call it a twist on ever-present effervescent hope
because we are all nothing if we're mindless


there were two rabbis arguing over law back in, quote, roman times, unquote
rabbi eliezer said, "if i am right, may the stream out back flow backwards" and it did
rabbi joshua said, "what's that got to do with the crux of your argument?"
rabbi eliezer said, "if i am right, may the walls of this house fall in"
and they leaned in
rabbi joshua pushed the walls upright, said, "you know as well as i do, that don't mean shit"
rabbi eliezer said, "if i am right, may god show support of my righteousness"
and the clouds parted and the voice of god himself said,
"joshua, why do you question him? you know he right. why be so difficult? why be so impetuous?"
and joshua said,
"the torah is not in heaven. we pay no attention to voices"
and we are nothing if mindless


jump monk / a constellation of endeavors:
she's a real cool cat
she is the sun of everything
and old men watch her walk past
say, "mi cago en dios"
and throw their dominoes into the street

she's got the kind of luck
that passes over her slowly
like ill-timed clock work
but when she walks by in her leather boots
even the beauty of the moon is usurped

and we are just constellations of endeavors
we are only as great as our greatest notion
but what more can she do
when one person cannot push on the ocean

and she says, "i told him, 'i could love you
cuz you my baby daddy
if you'd show me how.
but if you're gonna be so angry all the time
i'm just gonna stay at your mama's house.'
cuz i got no room for all of this drama
which is why i'm a fish out of water around him."
and then she unzips her leather boots
to show the neighborhood her lines of bruises

and we are just constellations of endeavors
so she'll never be nothing more than a real cool cat
and she lifts her hands way above her head
and when the music starts
she begins to dance


oh, george:
i will be good
if you will be wise
and we can run around
midtown
on the east side
all stranded-like
looking for something
anything at all
off of which to hitch a ride

and i watch you from across the bus
in all of your boyish charm
with your arm
out the window
then the Geneva Convention flies by
and i wonder, who's really to blame?
cause you and your boys
are way way way
way way
insane

da vinci says that every time you give your time to someone unworthy
you cut yourself in half
and if you consider all the halves we've lost to earfulls of politicians
you'll understand why our minds are so morass
you've got to crawl between that place where you suspect something's off
and that place where you finally see it as a farce
then in 50 years in our rocking chairs we can reminisce
about the second coming of the u.s.s.r.

and i've got half a mind to tattoo you on my forearm
just to remind myself of what we all survived
they say that all wounds heal in time
in very very very very very due time

and there's this law of motion which suggests
an object remains in constant motion or constant rest
until it's forced to change its intent of direction
pardon my superimposed
inflection

so i will be good
if you will be wise
and we can run around
midtown
on the east side
all stranded-like
looking for something
anything at all
off of which to
hitch a ride


douchebags:
she always carries a roll
of rolled-up pennies
cause when you punch your opponent with them
they tend to go down easy
and if she's constantly scowling at you
she's got a smile in her back pocket

she wants to be 400 pounds
wide as she is happy
she wants to roll around
with her pocket map and whiskey
she's highlighted every town
she wants to build a house
and ain't you or none of your friends allowed

she is a species of energy
like red wine magnifies candlelight
she wants to learn everything
and try to be more kind
or maybe she'll spend the rest of her life
dancing galapagos monday nights

and you and i should be pictionary partners
cause we are of one mind
and if your company's bad for the liver
ain't no better way to pass the time
oh look, another miss hello kitty
but i won't complain
cause long as i'm hangin' with you, buddy,
i'm o.k.

every person's a different flavor
of elbow grease
and if you juxtapose the bad and good
the more the good means
but with some, you gotta rub your elbows together
til' the noise ceases

if you cannot recognize
the complete bullshit
then you forfeit every right
to claim to rights to call it
she walks an extra 15 blocks
to avoid your ticker tape parade
cause you and all of your friends are

douche bags