In musical parlance, Side B, the flip side, referred to the ‘other’ side of a 45rpm vinyl record.  Artists’ album releases were teased out one ‘single’ at a time in the hope that the best material would entice fans to first buy the 45 and later pony up for the full 33-1/3, long-playing set.  And, since there was that otherwise unused real estate on the backs of those 45’s, some relegated lesser-than ‘album cut’ was unceremoniously stamped onto the B side.  Seldom did those tag-along tracks become prominent or memorable, but occasionally, listener curiosity bested the marketing geniuses and a nearly discarded song rose to ‘hit’ status.  In today’s streaming world, the concept of the single release is still inexplicably a thing, but Side B, to the future dismay of trivia buffs, is not.

The metaphor of Sides A and B has become ingrained in business, art and politics and remains relevant today.  It shouldn’t be confused with the much more touted Plan B, the near-equal backup for a first choice of action.  Side B is still the ugly stepsister to its way more popular counterpart.  In American legislative lore, Side A has been proposed policy, budgetary disbursement or societal amendment brought forth by the majority party while Side B was the push-back counter proposal of the minority.  The resulting debate was often contentious, but, except for that Civil War thing, the two-sides-to-every-story adage has mostly led to workable compromise.  Then, Obama was elected and the Side B Republicans’ brains imploded.  Birtherism, the Tea Party, Mitch Fucking McConnell…and any semblance of two counterbalanced Sides disappeared and the history of human progress, the ebb and flow through millennia of creative, innovative thought coupled with honest, concerned debate…poof!  You can’t have an argument if one Side has no opinion, (at least not one based in reality).  The unofficial Republican platform, (unofficial, because they have chosen not to craft one), is fundamentally, No, No, No…Fuck You, Fuck You, Fuck!!!  It, along with the melty-brained, near-half of its American devotees, may, if it succeeds to destroy our Democracy, be a more memorable Side B than, say, George Harrison’s The Inner Light on the flippity flip of Lady Madonna, but that’s one acid trip too far…even for an old hippie like me.