The Day I Met Gargs

For Kate

Last night Kate and I talked for a couple of hours.  I did a lot of the talking but she directed the conversation, drawing me out, forcing me to cogently form my ideas.  She required not only clarity but connectivity and for a while I was transformed, re-planted in another time.  I knew, for a moment, who I was and what I wanted.  It had come back to me, delivered by this strange and beautiful courier and as quickly as she had come she was gone.  I remained buoyant for a short time but fell again too soon.  

Afghan Warlord Takes Anderson Cooper As 43rd Wife

Yesterday Josh posted this 'news' story from The Onion.  It's almost two years old now but it still gets laughs.  It got me thinking.  Last week I wrote here about the propensity of the media to embellish 'news' to promote consumption and that topic got a lot of play at a house party a few nights later.  I think my earlier entry was a little glib but I was making an effort to keep it loose so as not to bore anyone.  I thought maybe I should revisit these ideas.  Especially when my Canadian friend Suzy wrote and sent a link to the Chronicle Herald out of Halifax that discusses the recent rant among conservative sources regarding President Obama's preference for Dijon mustard.  

Apparently Fox's Sean Hannity has been stirring up the controversy along with conservative blogger and Cornell Law School professor William Jacobsen.  The problem it seems is that it's too snooty, elitist and yet another example of Obama's pandering to our enemies.  Has he forgotten 'freedom fries'?  At issue, beyond his predilection for haute cuisine, are attempts by his staffers to cover the whole thing up.  Below the link Suzy plaintively asked "please tell me this is a hoax"?  Well the Anderson Cooper story is a hoax but 'Dijongate' is the real thing.  The problem is the veracity of the one is as improbable as the other and silly as it all seems it calls into question the credibility of 'news' altogether.  

Josh, that day, had also posted a quote from Abe Lincoln (I think) saying, "We live in the midst of alarms; anxiety beclouds the future; we expect some new disaster with each newspaper we read".   Today, as then, news headlines are one nightmare after another.  One day the recession is taking the world to hell in a handbasket, the next day the signs of recovery are pointing to a hopeful future.  The swine pandemic will put us all in an early grave on Monday but by Wednesday things are back to normal.  In the midst of this roller coaster of reportage comes Dijongate.  So long as our attentiveness to serious issues is destabilized we will lack the tools to form consensus.   Without consensus there is tyranny.

Trust me, I'm not picking sides.  I don't care if you're a liberal or conservative.  I don't wholly buy in to either ideology.  The implications have more to do with economics than partisanship.  Just to cut to the chase here, my ham-handed interpretation of this situation is this:  Capitalism preserves its control through hegemonic culture.  Hegemony is achieved by consensus.  By determining the means of production of social institutions like the media, the ruling class’s ideology can be propagated to the working class so they may adopt as their own, a “common sense” view of the world as it is and should be.  I don't really see that dynamic as a problem since, given the data, people can make the decision to buy in or not.  Cultural hegemony is negotiable.   Of course it is a problem when you have a bunch of boneheads negotiating but that's a topic for another entry.

So, the ruling class who own the media outlets influence the way the 'news' is disseminated.  The 'look' of the newsroom sets, the characteristics of the talking heads, the music, the advertising and every detail of the presentation is carefully designed to make palpable the product.  The more alluring the product, the more advertising revenues.  McLuhan pointed out that the medium has the potential to affect society as much as the content it delivers.  What we have here these days is a failure to communicate.  Content is subordinated by the medium.  What takes precedence over the message is it's style of delivery.  The spectacle, the disaster, the scandal, or the polemic are genres that operate in news broadcasts as in feature films.  The actual content is unimportant.  You can remove Leonardo and the boat from Titanic and plug in Nicole, some kangaroos and call it Australia.  News seems to operate in the same manner these days.  Soap must be sold.

The problem is, the content lacks substance and order.   Major world news events get short shrift when Britney crashes her car or the president has a hotdog.  We can't under those circumstances form any kind of consensus or pose any viable negotiation for hegemony.   Obama said it best "What’s troubling is the gap between the magnitude of our challenges and the smallness of our politics — the ease with which we are distracted by the petty and trivial,".  

Podhi

Podhi attached herself to us as soon as we entered the park.  In the two and a half hours it took to walk around the historic Botanical Gardens on the Howra side of the Hughli river she never once left our side.  The park, now more than three hundred years old is a sprawling collection of exotic plants from around the world and is the legacy of Calcutta's earliest British colonists who sought to gentrify the primitive landscape and lend to it the familiarity and structure of England's finest gardens.  Once elegant, stately, and perfectly maintained it is now a ghost of its former self, gone to seed and ruled by those species best able to survive the oppressive climate of eastern India without the intervention of men and their care.  Similarly, once the exclusive domain of colonial gentry, it is now the workplace of the beggar class working their wiles on the tourists and well to do visitors from the city across the river.  

Podhi was enchanting, a soft spoken waif in a tattered dress.  She had little to say and it was obvious she was truly amazed we allowed her to walk along with us, likely having been shooed away by most people she approached.  Shellie was with me, back from Nepal, and we took the day to sightsee.  I'd gathered my 'crew' of local friends Niyaz and Dinesh to come along and run interference and they treated Podhi with the same disdain they reserved for more aggressive con men and beggars.  But Shellie and I were so taken with Podhi we made it clear we wanted her to hang out and so as the walk progressed we learned a lot about her.

She was from Kalighat on the other side of the river and made the one hour trip over by bus daily.  This was her turf, the area her family had staked out long ago.  Her elder siblings had moved on to other grounds where the prospects were better.  This was a training ground and there was no expectation of results beyond learning the tricks of the trade.  The refund on the two water bottles we gave her would cover the one way bus fare and anything else she managed to gather that day would get her home.  If there was net profit it would go into the household finances to support her parents and siblings.  

But today she took a day off, she asked for nothing and she enjoyed her time with us, just walking through the deteriorating gardens making small talk and holding our hands.  She seemed blissfully happy.  Shellie and I seemed instinctively to fall into a biologically inscribed fantasy of procreated fulfillment.  Rough as it had become this place still had a magical energy about it.  Several miles from the city's core, the absence of crowds and the oppressive noise make these gardens an oasis.  As we walked with Podhi we, like her, shed the burden of our socio-economic differences and along with them the harsh realities we were all too soon to rediscover.

When we came to the river Dinesh and Niyaz arranged a boat to take us back to the Calcutta side.  There was much negotiating and flailing of arms before a deal was reached with the oarsmen.  Four dollars would cover the two hour trip back up-river against the tide.  As we climbed aboard the boat and sat on the open deck Dinesh took the hopeful Podhi by the hand and led her back to the shore.  Shellie and I simultaneously protested but Niyaz calmly explained the folly of taking responsibility for her.  She had a family and a life and while that scenario may not have met our standards it would have been cruel and irresponsible to interfere.  I knew instantly he was right, the notion that we could help her, is the flawed foundation on which the colonial project built its ethical justifications.  Podhi, Shellie and I shared a dream but nothing more.  As the boat pulled away and she stood watching us go I snapped a picture.  

Marriage?????

Note:  Above is an ad for a t-shirt with a message I endorse but I don't sell them.  If you want one try the web site noted in the top left corner.  

A letter in my local newspaper's editorial section began with the all too familiar yet pedantic message that indicated the writer was in favor of same sex unions and all the attendant rights and privileges under the law.  But at the end, things got nasty and he threateningly decried calling these couplings marriage.  That, it seems, is an exclusive right of the heterosexual community.  So if I'm getting it right, this newest wrinkle in the issue sets up lines of battle around a word.  

Ok we know that language is power.  That's been demonstrated by specific marginalized groups and modulations of language have been effectively employed to negotiate relations of power.  Blacks reclaimed the word nigger to remove it's derogatory associations and it now serves as a term of endearment.  Women have similarly commanded the term bitch and the homosexual community have proudly embraced queer.   So, what's up with married heterosexuals?  Is there, amongst them, a fear that same sex marriage will create a societal dynamic that will marginalize them from power?  Would being 'married' suddenly relegate them to the back of the bus?  I'm not sure I get the argument.

I have a real problem with the whole idea of marriage anyway.  I've been legally married twice and legally divorced four times.  You don't actually need to be married to be forced into a financial settlement with an ex.  So, I have to wonder why anybody would do it in the first place.  I mean, geeze, be careful what you wish for.  I get, that for the gay community, marriage is a site of negotiations of power.  I would like to see as much as anyone that we, as a society, get beyond this shameful history of discrimination.   But man, marriage, that seems like a step backward.  I thought we were becoming too sophisticated for such antiquated institutions as marriage.  I would hope for voices, among the gay community, to speak for a brave new world that eschews the parochial and limited contract of marriage for a more forward thinking and elaborately constructed couple.

Baby steps I suppose.  Let's get these basic prejudices dealt with first and move on to the next level.  At the very least let's get over the 'word' marriage.  

Pigs in a Blanket

Ok if this is what I have to do to survive guess what my choice is going to be.  I'm ok with the mask thing, I've made my dog wear one of those but fuck me if you think I'm wearing anything with Winnie the Pooh on it.  Notice the other shirt's got Pepe la Pu!  There appears to be a lot of poo associated with the swine flu.  Let's face it this whole pandemic is a smear campaign orchestrated by the beef industry.  

But this entry is not about the swine flu per se.  I'm more interested in the way these current events are disseminated.  There is a French cultural theorist named Guy Debord who wrote a book called 'Society of the Spectacle'.  When I was writing my masterpiece, er sorry, masters thesis, in university I used his work to help make some arguments.  Now so as not to offend those who actually read Debord I should say that I treated his work much the same as any other I used.  Read the introduction, poach some relevant footnotes, and dazzle some undergrad babe at the student union bar by pretending I read the thing.   That said, Debord's general idea was that after events like the world wars and the nuclear bomb, society became so desensitized to occurrences of lesser magnitude that it became necessary to dramatize news to get people to consume it.  That trend is more apparent and endemic than ever.  

The swine flu is poised to annihilate the free world.  Whatever.  Laura pointed out to me today that after thwarting the devastating invasion of South American killer bees the world faced an even more sinister imminent destruction.  The resultant lack of pollen exchange for which those same devil bees were responsible, would fall by the way and plant life as we know it was to disappear forever from the face of the earth.  

You tell me, do we really need for every event to spell disaster before we can pay attention or are these prophecies of armageddon necessary to deflect our scrutiny of more important issues?  Fuck I don't give a shit about the swine flu where's my Brittany update?

Premature Articulation

Ok, I'm a shitty blogger.  First of all I seldom post anything and even then I'm too long winded.  Worse, I started this thing without considering the ethics of blogging and I want to apologize to those who've supported me even without my reciprocation.  

  In my defense I have been too busy with golf, new motorcycles and beverage-laden nights out.  I'm going to be more conscientious, more attentive, less verbose and more relevant.  I'm getting my head out of the clouds and putting my nose to the grindstone.  I'm going to stop now before this sounds anymore like Jerry Maquire's mission statement.

Nick took the "What kind of knucklehead takes these stupid Facebook quizzes"  quiz with the result "Too many of his Facebook friends"

If this looks familiar you probably have a Facebook account.  If not, congratulations you are likely well adjusted, sane, have a normal real life and have no need of a virtual peer group.  You could probably quit reading now and you won't miss much.  If you do have a Facebook account or you are curious please read on.  

Facebook is a "social networking" site ostensibly designed  to facilitate cyber communities of acquaintances and to provide access to events and services not otherwise readily available.  I like to think of it as the 'Borg' for all you Trekkies out there (that may be a future topic), because it organizes participants into a homogeneous glump devoid of personal expression.  Unlike MySpace or some of the other such sites everyone's page is identically laid-out and subject to a steady stream of mindless babble and advertising.  All of that begs the question, why do it?  

The attraction to this site seems to revolve around the voyeuristic scrutiny of the activity of one's friends.  Titillating as that may sound it comes at a price.  It has been argued that people are willing to sacrifice their own privacy for the opportunity to peer into the lives of others.  This symbiotic form of relationship wouldn't be so bad if the exchange were limited to one's friends but the access is viral.  That is to say that while I can view steady streams of news feeds posted by my friends I can also view things like the photo albums of their friends, people I don't even know.  While most of this stuff is so banal it's painful, occasionally something comes across that seems entirely inappropriate.  I mean, we're all adults here but there is something pretty creepy about perusing some friend's niece's photos of a bunch of scantily clad adolescents pounding jello shooters in compromising poses.   Yes, I've done it and it's not as innocent as the inability to turn one's eyes from the proverbial train wreck.  At best it's invasive at worst it's pederasty.

As bad as that seems there is something significantly more pernicious about Facebook and those vile quizzes I mentioned at the outset are just one form of a series of mechanisms rooting about in our psyches.  The extent to which this subliminal mind-mining will succeed wholly depends on the willingness of participants.  At this point there seems to be limitless and gleeful acceptance.  Oh come on you say, don't take yourself so seriously.  Well trust me I'm no alarmist, I think maybe the Warren commission called it like it was but this kinda scares me.

There are a couple things that set up my personal paranoia.  One is that Facebook was developed by a former executive for an information gathering think-tank enlisted by the CIA.  Another is a failed marketing scheme called the beacon which would have linked specific partnering businesses with personal profiles.  Activity with those companies would automatically generate news feeds to your friends.  Something like "Nick bought 'Debbie Does Dallas' at Amazon.com today" would feed out to all my friends.  Worse, Amazon can have Friends (or fans as they're called for businesses) who would also get that feed and anyone can be Amazon's friend.  Even my parole officer.  How would he like to see "Nick bought a Glock at Sportsmans Wharehouse today"?

So, with that in mind it seems pretty obvious what these quizzes are all about.  At their most innocuous they are about establishing demographics.  These quizzes typically ask things like "Which Muppet are you?" or "Which punk rock star are you?".  The inanity of this is palpable.  For those of you who found they were Patti Smith I have a news flash: Patti would prefer a non-anesthetized appendectomy to taking one of these quizzes.  And, well need I remind anyone that Miss Piggy doesn't actually exist.  The geniuses that created and proliferate these applications are building data.  Soon you'll be seeing Miss Piggie wristwatches and posable Patti Smith dolls at your local WalMart.  Ok that's a little extreme but you can bet the results of these quizzes will find their way into the marketing of goods and services because why else are these applications available.  

Does anybody think Facebook subsidizes the development of these 'games'.  Hell no, they are paid to host the access.  So who is paying for it and why.  Is it some misguided old hippie spreading the love, some wealthy hobbyist hoping to share a love for games and puzzles?  Uh no!  Nothing is free, you can't even walk in the park for free, its use is paid for by taxation.  So why should we think we're getting free games from Facebook?   We're not, we're paying with our very souls, we're shelling out tidbits of our very essence to the lowest bidder who will turn this information to use in their benefit and against our own. 

The other day I saw the most alarming quiz to date, "Which foreign country are you?".  Several of my Canadian friends found they were America.  This generated a rash of dialogue regarding personal and public ideas about US policy and culture.  Some of it was not too flattering some of it was conciliatory and some was just stupid.  But I had to wonder what would come of this information being so insipidly gathered, who would be looking over those comments and whether they might some day come back to haunt those who made them.  

When once asked by an interviewer if he thought people should keep their social distance Bob Dylan said "I believe people should keep everything they've got".  I'm with him!  

Blowin' in the Wind

I recently moved back to this country after 35 years of self-imposed exile.  My reasons are valid enough but not a day goes by that I don't question the wisdom of such a move.  Don't get me wrong I'm cognizant of the many and varied benefits of American life and nowhere I've ever been can rival the bounty available to those who succeed here.  But let's face it, as sure as there's an order in the universe, symmetry and balance in nature, there is a down side to America's rich tapestry.  

I'm not talking here about the last several years of moral and ethical decline on the world stage, and I'm ignoring, for now, the unscrupulous American business practices which precipitated the disastrous events that have ruined the world economy.  These issues have at their core that quintessential Americaness on which the country was founded.  I think Goofy immortalized the idea in that now canonized Disney cartoon when he sang so unselfconciously "Oh the world owes me a living".  That basic concept coupled with the right to bear arms is the fundamental ghost in the American machine. 

The first woman I dated when I moved back here is a captain in the army.  To her credit she's decidedly left leaning and passionately active in the preservation of the environment but nonetheless competent with a 50 caliber machine gun.  There are within 2 miles of my home 3 grocery stores and 5 places to buy guns.   Portland Magazine recently included in its list of top ten things to do in town, taking a date to the indoor shooting range.  Craigslister's looking to unload their boats and cars often suggest trades for a glock or 9mm.   It is a country rife with firepower, scurrying to acquire ordinance before the lefties in power revoke their privileges.  The conventional wisdom ( I use the term advisedly) is that the right to bear arms is a constitutional guarantee and yet there is a great deal of discussion regarding the concept as it was proposed by the framers.  Whatever the idea may have been and however it may apply today, the proliferation of weapons among the general populace is alarming and nearly every page of the first couple sections of any city newspaper has at least one article about somebody discharging one of them.  

 That said, even with its myriad of gun-totin' stories my morning newspaper has a much more sinister depository of horror;  the editorial page.  The local paper here, which I would call fairly conservative, is now considered as many others like it to be decidedly left-wing.  Admittedly there is an attempt to balance the reportage and even the editorial content but the idea that Conrad Black or the Hearst Corporation have suddenly become New Socialists is a bit far-fetched.  This paper alternates voices from opposing camps in the daily columns but it's the reader's letters that are scary as hell.   There is a subtext in the bulk of these letters that promotes the notion that the righteous path has been lost.   

Only two months into a new administration and already they lament the passing of those halcyon days of enlightened leadership that secured our shores and protected our homes.  More importantly they decry the passing of lower taxes and rail against the costs of earmarks and pork fat doled out by the new socialist government.  If there's one thing Americans don't like it's paying taxes.  As a culture it's been genetically inscribed beginning with the tossing of tea barrels into Boston Bay.  We are a people who collectively say 'No one's the boss of me' so 'don't tread on me' or 'I'll grab my 9 and bust a cap in your head'.  

As much as all this frightens me it also fascinates.   When I was a kid it was considered cool to smoke, a right of passage that lingered on into adulthood.  Smoking was cosmopolitan, a symbol of rebellion and distinction.  Maybe the Glock is the new Marlboro.  I haven't encountered the tiniest resistance to the notion of a date at the firing range.  So, maybe it'd be cool to pack, women seem to think it's 'interesting' and as an added bonus if some interloper should darken my door, well woe be it.  It's almost as though it's my civic duty.  Sure they're dangerous, guns kill people, or people kill people I'm not sure which but anyway when they go off in close proximity to people sometimes someone gets killed.  I guess that someone could end up being me if I happened to run into someone else being cool but at least it wouldn't be that lingering death carting around the oxygen bottle.