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"We need some quiet." 

Springsteen at Madison Square Garden, about 20 bars into his as-yet-unrecorded political ballad, "American Skin." Written as a seething response to the NYPD's accidental shooting (41 times) of Amadou Diallo, an African man they confused with another dark-skinned man who had been up to ill-deeds in Queens. Diallo was reaching for his wallet, as requested, to let the cops know who he was. But when they saw a mysterious black thing in his hand, they thought GUN, and went for theirs, and drilled him on the spot. Forty-one times. Automatic weapons are like that.

Springsteen ran through all the typical responses -- outrage, grief, finger-pointing -- before reaching the heart of the matter. That the tragedy affects the shooters as much as their victim. In the first verse, even, he projects himself into the boots of the gun powder-stained cops: "You're kneeling above him in the vestibule/praying for his life." And from there, into the chorus: "Is it a gun?/Is it a knife?/Is it a wallet?/This is your life."

The killing is bad enough. But what it represents -- disconnection between the races, between classes, between law enforcement and the people they're sworn to protect and defend -- is an even bigger tragedy. "You can get killed just for livin'/In your American Skin."

All of which swam back into my mind this morning when I read this NYT story about New Jersey governor candidate Chris Christie. A huge Springsteen fan. And a conservative Republican. Which seems odd to me.

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This season of "Mad Men" has become, in its quiet way, as psychedelic a drama as ever seen on American TV. Beyond "Laugh-In," you bet your bippy, and even, dare I say it, "Mod Squad." 

And we're not just talking about the ongoing exploration/analysis of the 1960s's, and the increasing momentum of the incipient hippie movement (though that has also become an obvious preoccupation). But also the fever-dream hallucinogenic quality of its storytelling; the increasing interest in subconscious fantasy; in non-linear narratives; in worlds beyond worlds.

So where does such internal chaos come from? On this most recent "MM" it stems from every dirction. From the hostility and fear of older generations. From the irreconcilable conflicts between the publicly asserted morality ("You should have a Bible and pictures of your family in your office") from the manipulations of the elders and the way youthful dreaminess (particularly the make love not war pose of the hippies) can be the thinnest of facades over a morality-free nastiness-verging-on-psychotic-ugliness.

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December 20, 1978. The Seattle Center Arena. Blackness, A blast of drums and then the opening chords of "Badlands." The band at full tilt, and Springsteen at center stage, leaping back and forth, silent for a few bars then, Va-room!, a roar of guitar and then into the first verse: Trouble in the heartland/Got a head-on collision smashin' in my guts, man, I'm caught in a crossfire, and I don't understand...

I was 15. I'd seen a bunch of concerts before this, but mostly of a certain type: Your Ted Nugents, your Chicagos, your Steve Miller Bands. A few stand-outs -- Paul McCartney, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, the Beach Boys before they were truly wretched. But this was different. It was dark and joyous. Even in its lightest moments it was entirely serious. It was intensely, totally, moment-for-moment-ly, real. 

Three decades later, at least a hundred other shows, including a dozen or so other Springsteen shows (The "River" tour; the "Tunnel of Love" tour; the not-the-E-Street-Band tour in '92; shows in New Jersey and Madison Square Garden at the beginning and end of the '99/'00 reunion tour; the "Rising" tour; the "Devils and Dust" solo tour; the "Magic" tour (at the Meadowlands and then in Portland) and maybe more?) But the "Darkness" tour in 78 was the first, and, without a doubt, the best. 

Maybe because it was so new to me. Maybe because he was only just found the real wellspring of his voice. Because he and the E Street Band had been on the road non-stop for virtually the entire room, determined to, as he put it, conquer the world. And to the extent that it's possible to do that, they had.

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If you can figure out why the Beatles decided to stop working on this tune and stuck with "For You, Blue" during the "Get Back" sessions, just let me know. 

Related questions: Why did those same Beatles (minus one) keep this full-band rehearsal in the can, while releasing George's solo demo of "ATMP" on "Anthology 3"? And what about the album's worth (at least) of rough-but-spirited-and-at-times-extremely-cool rehearsals/jams/etc. from "Get Back" that are still sitting around unreleased? 

And there's more.

Check out John's "Watching Rainbows" 

The beautiful thing about this show -- its interwoven layers of social and personal analysis; of literal and metaphorical storytelling; of drama and comedy -- splattered anew when poor old Guy McKendrick's foot ran afoul of the John Deere rider mower.

Most immediately you saw the geyser of blood. Heard the cries of shock and horror, and felt the gruesome impact of bodily harm, right there in vivid early '60s color. But the picture contained even more for you to think about. The collision of the new world (a rider mower, the very picture of modern American suburban ease) with the smartly-shod foot of the British empire. The crumbling, once again, of a man's best laid plans. The pull of the future and the fraying of the past. And maybe, just maybe, the foreshadowing of some other, shockingly gruesome public event.

Plus, it was strangely, darkly hilarious.

"Jesus, it looks like Iwo Jima out there," Roger Sterling shrugged later as the custodian wiped gore off the office window. Sacrifices made, life goes on. "Somewhere in this industry this has happened before."

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Presenting my high school alma mater in Seattle, Washington: 

I was class of 1981. A storied place, believe it or not. Other alums include: Jimi Hendrix, Quincy Jones, Olympic gold medalist (and longtime personal friend o mine) Debbie Armstrong. And also another friend who went on, shockingly enough, to become Colorado's most notorious female murderer. Didn't see that coming. Court TV, pulp bios, the whole bit. There's a whole story there, one I kind of wrote for Glamour Mag in '92 or '93, but which actually began as a much larger story for the New York Times Magazine. A sad story there, I won't go into it here. Maybe nowhere. But it occurs to me sometimes and makes me sad. 

Let's see if we've got this straight: Glenn Beck says Barack Obama is a racist. Rush Limbaugh says white kids are now fair game for angry black kids "in Barack Obama's America." Keith Olbermann says any number of people are the Worst Person In the World. Rep. Joe Wilson calls the POTUS a liar in the midst of an official presidential address to Congress; health care reform opponents equate proposed changes with socialism, communism, Nazism and worse; Nancy Pelosi says all this outrage over health care is veering dangerously toward political violence.

And the only thing I know for an absolute fact is that most of the major news outlets in America are run by entertainment executives whose MBA-wielding bosses are way more Adam Smith than they are Edward Murrow.

Remember "All The President's Men," and those midnight parking garage meetings between Bob Woodward and Deep Throat? "You're missing the overall! Follow the money!" The super-secret Watergate informant was one Nielsens overnights reference away from nailing the secret to the corruption of the political discourse in the 21st century, too.

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Remember what I wrote yesterday about the "Daily Show"'? Then I saw this. Never mind. Plus did I make clear that I never stopped loving "TDS"? I just felt a little guilty about it. For a minute. Then I stopped.

Finally caught up with Fox's "Glee" last night. Take "Freaks and Geeks" fold in "Ugly Betty" and there you are. It's really lovely: sweet, quirky, off-beat. Also: the gayest scripted show on primetime. Bar none. Including the fashion shows. Rivaling, if not quite eclipsing "Queer Eye." Even the straight characters are basically gay. At least when it comes to the various cultural stereotypes, etc (showtunes, singing and dancing, dressing well, being nice). A whole hour of sweet-natured dramedy about social outcasts who sing? I love Fox for doing this. This is how they make up for "Moment of Truth" and all that other soul-killing crap. Not sure if it's a total karma-kleanser but they'll find that out later.

Three weeks without "The Daily Show," particularly in the midst of so much feverish/weird/out of control debate seemed way too long. So how cool to have them back. And so here's one of the central pieces from Monday night's return show. And as well-observed as it is, as well-researched and clearly correct, it still made me wonder: In the age of Obama, has the "DS" devolved into being a left-leaning comedy watchdog of Fox News?