Thursday, September 02, 2010

I need the darkness, someone please cut the lights


Not studious about it, but let's say a vagabond browser, a main sad thing about modern industrial agriculture is monoculture farming. More or less producing or growing one crop over a wide area. Monoculture suggests some virtues, like cheap productivity, but the gist of why it is a horrible, ugly evil is that it leaves the crops, the soil, farmers & end users vulnerable to diseases, bugs, weeds, pesticides, pathogens, oil price flutters, and corporate whim/litigation (cough Monsanto uncough). If it is not obvious why, think about it for a second longer. Still foggy? then read or watch any of the food propaganda books/movies. Or e-surf.

The postmodern remedy to the food supply ailment is decidedly simple and very retro, oldie but goodie risk managing diversity, albeit with modernize techniques. Again, the why should be obvious. What is most appealing to me about diversification based production approach is that it drastically improves sustainability.

I might have been hasty to say the whys are obvious. Or even if obvious, the details might not be. I googled about monoculture and diversity in farming, and one interesting thing I found was the once, and possibly renewed, popularity of rice duck farming.1 Essentially raising ducks along with irrigated rice fields where the ducks control weeds, eat bugs, poo natural fertilizers, offer alternative income, and even, from what I can tell, alleviate global warming. In the process, harmful chemicals/fertilizers are eliminated, or rendered superfluous. As well, fish and other vegetation can sometimes be incorporated, which enhances whatever existing perks from the ducks. Neat.

1. More details here.

This is also part why I'd be hesitant to test, even with all the supposed benefits, a vegan or hardcore vegetarian diet. It is antithetical to the (postmodern) natural order. Duck consumption enables organic (no petro fertilizer/chemical pesticide) rice farming methods. Or, duck tastes yums. Nix the reason for raising ducks, hello chemical poison again. Though these particular webbed-footed waddlers do not seem to be foie gras candidates. That would be but too perfect.

A nagging issue I have with the whole diversified, sustainable, organic, local utopiod farming movement - to sorta add my voice to the Alice Water boo bird chorus - is that local/organic is pretty much code for white bourgeois, see the farm to table eateries: Blue Hill at Stone Barn, Eigensinn Farm, Manresa, and Chez Panisse. That shit is hella expensive. That fact extends from those several gilded restaurants with their tasting menus and pre fixe fixations to regular day in and day out grocery shopping: regular people are suppose to afford organic/local? The whole thing strikes, from my anemic wallet's viewpoint, as too qu’ils mangent de la brioche2, ya know.

2. Misattributed, according to teh internet, to Maria Antoinette.

If push reaches shove, I'm not sure which I would mind less, being called cheap or poor. I mean cheap comes with a noxious brew of negative connotations, made that much more potent in that it is a conscious decision, or at least a somewhat voluntary choice. Being poor, well, circumstances commonly force that societal hand. Then again, is there anything worse in the world than being poor?3 Well, I'm not in a position to choose one or the other. Convenience is usually the tie breaker. Most of the time that means industrial farmed produce, but I stalk, from time to time, what's at the greenmarkets and organic stores anyway. Or, for this summer, I am participating in a local CSA.

3. Money makes the world go round.

The diversity that is a boon for farmers, environment, and food lovers is a stickier matter when it comes to romantic re-la-tion-ships. Apparently cheating or, less judgmental, covert juggling of multiple dating partners is quite the rage these days. Or that's at least what my friends have been telling and practicing. Yet I've been a bit of a buzzkill on this. The guilt trip I laid down led one such friend to claim reformation, ie booting one girl and sticking with the other. Which was not what I was going for at all, assuming he does follow through and or does not have other girlfriends on the sidelines.4

4. Since then, word is my pal has resumed sipping the dating around waters, despite being in a relationship. And because it's taken a hella long to write this, the gal he stuck with has dumped his ass. So he is back on the watering hole sans anchor. Hard to keep pace with people's dating habits sometimes.

I re-routed my arguments by suggesting that he's a plant in the desert, when it rains, no plant is gonna stop doing whatever plants do with water, which I assert is indiscriminate absorption, to fake fidelity. His life depends on taking full advantage of the moment's downpour, I think that was the botany case I was building.

An earlier conversation, almost certainly the same back fence gossip - cuz you know, when we scamps get together, we're worse than a sewing circle5 - I mentioned something to the effect that when it rains, it pours.An old idiom with wide applicability: good breaks, bad luck, financial windfall, change in health, job offers, whatever; sometimes when something happens, especially something that has not or does not happen with great frequency, it abruptly happens in great quantity and or intensity. I only wish I put it as cleverly for the case at hand - namely dating opportunities - as one friend did: pussy pour. So indiscriminate absorption, ya know.

5. I'm rather ambivalent or with even lower estimations regarding Tarantino's movies. But he has a way with clever dialogue.

I guess I am a little naive because this line of gossiping does come as a surprise when I hear about it, or shamefully, I am impress by or encourage the licentious ways. Well, I encourage it because the stories and misadventures associated with promiscuous going ons are highly hil-arious. Practically every part of it intrigues me: the process of multiple dating, tactics used to evade detection, the faux guilt buildup from the libidinous lapses/trickery, the almost or actual slip ups, and so forth. It all seems so mystifying and daunting.

What I did learn, sorry cannot give away too many of the details, as even while I can safeguard my friends anonymity by not naming names, details might be a giveaway. What I did learn is that if a dude is going with the alternating weekends with alternating chicks, spending time with family (provided that you do not introduce either girls to the parents or do not get them too close) or work (provided you do not work at McDonalds) is a fine alibi. Picking up stray hairs from sofa/bed/chairs/etc is a must. As a matter of practice, skimp on details or maximize vagueness first, foremost, and at all cost, otherwise it will blowup the alibis or excuses, and eventually trapping oneself in the tangled web of deception.6 No matter how one tries to enforce a rigid (daily) call routine, the other chick will call at an inconvenient time.

6. Le secret d'ennuyer est celui de tout dire. Not sure how it would play out if one were to quote Voltaire, in English, in lieu of even a vague, detail skimping answer, - the secret of being a bore is to tell everything. Oh, and Sir Walter Scott.

I would think not answering a call is the surest way to lead to suspicion, but apparently either that's how some folks prefer to handle it, or circumstances dictate the call goes to voicemail.7 Regardless, it does lead to some sort of confrontation when the call is eventually returned. As in: what were you doing? why did it go straight to voicemail? why didn't you pick up? and, what were you doing? and, why didn't you pick up? and then, repetition. Plus, not answering calls is not just suspect to the chick calling, it seems to me rather doubt-raising to the chick one is with at the time. But I suppose one tip is to switch to vibrate or silent before going full on straight to voicemail/turn off cell mode.

7. Regarding the voicemail(s) left, an inevitability is the frantic "it's an emergency, call me back" message. I sez to my friend, "Universal code for 'it's an emergency, call me back' is 'it's not an emergency, it can wait til whenevers.'"

Beyond the close calls and the general inconvenience and financial cost of dating more than one chick, there is some psychological/spiritual/emotional price too, as my friends have confessed feelings of anxiety. I can imagine. You decide whether it is remorse for their actions or fear from getting their paws caught in the pussy jar. A friend regularly exclaims that he believes he's going to hell for his actions, especially as one of his main squeeze is sooo nice or sooo trusting. Another cyprian pal tells of sleepless nights and or nightmares. And so forth.

I have asked them why do it then. Or why risk it when you already have a good thing. One response: cause the reward is so gratifying. Uh, okay.

I would say, unless caught red handed with the other woman, the best thing to do when confronted is to feign bafflement over the accusations. But that's not really true. Because, unless caught red handed, it doesn't really matter how it is handled. Despite some heated words, if all she got is suspicions, she cannot do much but try to bait a slip up or some other telltale sign. As long as one avoids her (and your own) traps, and, as mentioned above, eschew details and embrace ambiguity, appeasement and exoneration is pretty much assured. That is, if things rarely reach the confrontation stage. Happens too often, that only means ya just don't care.

Not sure if why I find all the lothario-esque double dealings so richly hilarious comes through sans name and, for the most part, sans details. I mean, I do feel bad if/when the discovery leads to the hurt feelings and other trauma, and I worry for the loose moral moorings of my pals. But it is different looking from the outside; from the exterior, it's pure entertainment. So it is pretty funny. Assuming I ain't one of the victims, I suppose.

Or, more funny.

I do not mean to imply, or be direct about it either, that strict monogamous relationship is the gold standard or is in any way morally/spiritually/anyly superior. It isn't. Or it would be beyond me to make that determination. What other people do is their business.

Furthermore, whatever fidelity (if any) I practice is mostly due to profound lethargy. Maintaining a relationship with one person is difficult enough, but more than one? while also keeping the romantic shuffling clandestine? Geez, that seems like hard fucking work. For me, being direct and open, to the degree that I am direct and open, which is a tough to call because most folks that I "socialize" with probably would say I am mysterious or secretive. Which is a fair interpretation, as when I am not direct and open, I tend to be non-responsiveness. But being direct and open is simply easier. I rather not try to be careful, or to make something up, or otherwise selectively censor. A slippery slope that also impugns on my favorite mode of communication, silence.8 What formerly was just not having anything to say becomes conjectures that the silence is hiding something. Not that traversing in that grey or middle area requires that much more effort, but lazy is lazy.

8. Otherwise known as the time between post. For which I originally intended in jest, but now, the humor is long past the expiration date.

Hmm... I think what I mean by direct and open is like a type of genuineness. I understand that misunderstanding or misinterpretation, or hell with the mis, just interpretation is inevitable. The thing that drives people's understanding of things is their understanding of things. But to the degree where I do not contribute other than through the specificity of my words or actions, that is what I want. What that does is I do not have to take a more circuitous route in saying or doing something, I do not have to explain what I am doing or saying, I would just say or do whatever it is. Or not say and not do, for that matter. And if someone still misreads or reads more than what is there, then I can brush it off; that is not what I said or did. And that's it. Redundancy risk taker that I am, I do not want to be an advertisement: selling sex, arthritis relief, confidence, or no money down real estate purchases when the only thing I am usually offering is a moment of personal interaction.

Which, needs to be said, is an approach to life and living, to the degree that I actually adhere to that triparted direct/open/silence directive, is not something that I think is that great either. There is the perceived misanthropy, and then the often long stretches of self imposed loneliness and desolation, and well, it is not nor should be for everyone, maybe myself included.

Diversity in romantic couplings could be said to be a tricky matter because of the (often) necessary deception. I wonder if the aforementioned gratification my friend spoke about is based on "knowing" two different girl in a single day, or getting away with it. In keeping with the theme, why mutually exclusive? could be both. But you know what I mean, deception prompts moral/ethical questions, and the arduous task to maintain that deceit.

I am not going to saying that deception/cheating is unequivocally evil, it may well be. But I haven't really thought about it through that frame.

But beyond the implied problems of deception, the perceived taboo of multiple dating partnering seems closer to the heart of the matter. Unfortunately, and I am sorta repeating, that too would also be outside my comfort zone to deem a definitive, unequivocal evil. There are any slew of justification/mitigation, and - not to mince words - outright good reasons to seek an extra-traditional relationship structure. I won't go through 'em all, but that a second and simultaneous girlfriend, or boyfriend, might be a fun (life) experience, that alone seems sufficient to preempt automatic foreclosure to such prospects. The way one pal put it, when he tried to reverse my goading back to me, "I know you like to read a lot, V., but sometimes you could be the novel instead of just reading it." Ha. And as this is be the blog - what transgressions need I tread for that, I wonder.

Being lazy, an easy test would be, and this is all in the hypothetical, where I to be in a relationship and be curious about pursing an extra-relationship, er, relationship, how would I feel if my existing partner was to consider the same thing, practice deception in that pursuit, and or perhaps how such a multi-relationship would be tolerable/acceptable/approvable.9 Might seem despite my portrayal above that these matters were too removed from my moral/ethical comfy zone for consideration that the answers would be quite easy. I would guess - I hope not too much of an assumption - most folks would say that they would, respectively, feel shitty, be mortally wounded by the betrayal, and no chance in hell of tolerating, let alone accepting or approving such arrangements. But I will stick to my original theses, as I think the answers are not quite that easy and - without getting into it, and without suggesting that I am "deeper" or "more complex" than anyone - my answers would be contrary to (reemphasizing, I assume) most folks.

9. Too Catholic? According to Wiki, the Greeks, Egyptians, Indians, and Chinese broadcasted, essentially, the golden rule long before Mark, Luke, Matthew, and John did. If that makes a difference.

Anyway, like I confessed, I am thoroughly enchanted and intrigued with romantic double dealings. I am a little ashamed to take enjoyment in my friends' unrestrained sybaritic impulses, or, for the friends being cheated on, their (perhaps) mistreatment. Then I kinda figure, it is none of my business, and I have very little, I'd say none, influence on anyone's action. People do what they want to do, and that includes staying faithful, sampling in the dating buffet, or how much to tolerate in a souring relationship. And if I eagerly await a new installment of romantic misadventures, or crack a few jokes, it is really nothing but what it is.

For what it is worth, according to Wiki, ducks are generally monogamous. But then again, I suppose, so are most men and women.

My favorite currently produced television shows (that aren't on public television) are in descending order of preference: Parks and Recreation, Modern Family, and Rules of Engagement. As things stand, however, due to the steady deterioration of my stolen cable and the vagaries of my own prime time free time schedule, the only one of the three that I catch and can watch on a semi periodic basis is Parks, which I am more than okay with.10 I love Amy Poehler. And the rest of the cast too.11

10. Fuck me. Looks like the teevee broadcaster have different plans for their fall schedule. A plan, for now, without Parks.

11. Aubrey Plaza = drool.

It goes down like this, superficially I can say subjectively that Parks is better than the rest. And that would be fine as it is my opinion and I am basing that judgment solely on my opinion. Except then, such statements communicate very little other than perhaps express my enthusiasm. It is tougher if I were to think what, even if subjective, makes that show better. Or maybe what Parks does objectively better that I give higher subjective value to? In some ways, it requires extended examination of things that I instinctively (perhaps) think/feel/judge. And in some additonal ways, finding out what it is, subjectively or objectively, I am thinking, feeling, or judging in addition or above those instinctive items. In any case, as is likely evident by now, I am the longwinded type that would not settle for letting things go unqualified or unjustified. Which tends to devolve to too much talk-y, or as here, type-y.

Basically, if the teevee is on, I would watch most anything, especially if a particular show is blessed with syndication. Regarding The Office, I read something about something over the i-ternet in which one faceless person posted a comment to the effect that Jim and Pam, the nominally supposed sympathetic characters/protagonists, all the pranks they play on Dwight, upon reflection/as a whole, are just asshole-ish disgusting. Which swayed me. Office is a good show, mostly well made and acted. At the same time, it is voyeuristic fascination with pettiness, stupidity, humiliation, and vacuity. Is that what I really want to be getting from a show, or consenting a show to foist upon overly sensitive me? Well, I try not to think about stuff like that.

I do understand the whole theater of cruelty idea, or understand following a quick googling. And I can understand the assertion that there could be value in the mere presentation of unpleasant things. Albeit these days I am more and more suspicious of that being an excuse for an inability to actually say something or to offer an alternative to said presented unpleasantness, the re-connection that is the point of the theater of cruelty. So Parks is better, in part, because in addition to being fun and funny, the characters and their motivations seem to be more humane, or multi-dimensional. More generally, Parks forgoes easy cynicism and ironic detachment, and its characters open themselves to risk the cliches and express the more common or basic elements of life: sharing fears, friendships, love, hassles, pains, and so forth.12

12. I substantially stole the sentence and its sentiment from a (presumably) different e-commenter. Less eloquent as I twist it for my purpose.

Somewhere else in the e-verse, a (yet) different faceless forum commenter posted that almost every episode of Parks passes the Bechdel Test.13 I am fairly certain that is not true, because the rigors of situational commercial television comedy should make Bechdel Test compliance pretty difficult in even a majority of Parks episode. But who knows, maybe it is true. In which case, neat.

13. Original Dykes to Watch Out For comic, video discussion, or google? The merit or imperative of the Bechdel Test, moreso in a mass/populous long form medium like movies, is - if not obvious - still, to me, very relevant. It is useful tool for critical (even if subjective?) evaluation/viewing. At the same time, what I hope to "get" from a movie, or any artistic expression, is mostly aligned with auteur authorship. The presence or absence of any conventions, such as car chases, happily ever after endings, or soft core teasing, let alone whether chicks are yapping about their yeast buildup is not a determining factor.

Other than that, Megyn Price is brilliant, amazing, and priceless. Modern Family is smart enough to not get in its own way, or fall into dumb traps.

Monday, March 15, 2010

why read fiction


one friend said he does not (like to)
read narrative fiction because of its disconnect
with reality, because fiction offers
no "lessons", or no real / useful things to be learned or applied.

i am not going to opine on this,
because the stance is pure,
mind-boggled daffiness. if this friend was serious about it, that is.

sometimes people
say things just to not say nothing, if you know what i mean.
i generally do not understand that.
i am fine with not talking.
but the compulsion to just say things happens with
such typical frequency that it is what it is.
besides on occasion taking
due notice, a contrived asymmetrical brow set or a long sidewise glance,
it is of small overall consequence.
maybe i am wrong.
then as well, this feels such a small matter
to feel too awful for being wrong about.


Thursday, March 11, 2010

Further Process in Ego Building


Oboy oboy oboy, so apparently, Jia Zhangke is going to be in town to participate in some thing for Asia Society, and for a retrospective at MOMA. I am so excited, someone has to hand some tissues over. Jia has been so much discussed here that I will not (over) bore you with my fawning. But there is a bunch of his flicks that I haven't seen, either I was not quite aware of Jia at that time or couldn't make time, that I am genuinely so excited. Oboy!

Asia Society, I had mentioned, hosted a sorta Tsai Ming Liang mini retro recently. For some reason or another, my fear of leaving downtown, or trekking uptown, I skipped it. Well, out of what they had planned to screen there was only one must see for me, and I just couldn't make it for that. So you know, life goes on.

I was not sure what I was expecting in Taipei before I got there, but once there, it was awesome. I told my friend, it feels like how I imagine Hong Kong to be in the 1980s, which may be due more to the areas I hung out than anything. What I meant by that was that Taipei seemed less a full fledge modern city, than a large city with many modern touches. Today's HK is more to me like a modern city, all new high rise and mall centers, with hints of its cultural legacy underfoot here and there. Like I said, both impressions likely were biased by where I stayed in the two cities. In HK, I was based in Causeway Bay or Central. While Taipei, I was around the back alleys of Taipower Building Station/National Taiwan U. But really, just look at the night markets, food hawkers/stalls, and such, in HK, they have been receding, if not at places pushed all together out. Taipei still does it right.

Neither fortunate nor unfortunately, it rained all but one day while I was in Taiwan, some months ago by now. Okay, unfortunately only in the sense that I was coming from Japan, which was (in the Kansai district especially) hella chilly, and I was eager for tropical Taipei for a nice balmy and humid change of pace. Now, wiki tells me: the northern part of the island has a rainy season that lasts from January through late March. Oh, no matter. The downpours came off and on, and was mostly mild, so not much inconvenience. Except no outdoor hot tubbing in Taipei Fine Arts Museum. Plus, boy, I hate soaked sneakers and socks.

Still, the wet weather helped create a vivid and specific type of image and experience. Some ways, I felt I was in Tsai Ming Liang's Taiwan. Not that I was getting my perv on, but one of the recurring imagery/motif in Tsai's movies is water, or rain, or leaks/puddles/riverways/and so forth, at least predominant and recurring as dancing dream dwarves are to David Lynch. I am thinking of The Hole, or The River, my main access point to Tsai's movies. Just a touch, cuz while the rains magnified the grey melancholy and the struggles for and against modernity that seems evident (for me) in Taipei, it ain't as bleak, austere or nasty as Tsai typically portrays either. Taiwan Up, as 101 brightly exhorts.

My friend said that slogan caused some confusion when it was unveiled cuz of its context-free and grammatical vagueness. But, come on, we are talking about Chinese folks. Look at the (mis)spelling on neighborhood Chinese takeout menus, English is always going to be... uh, Chinese to them, if you know what I mean.

Deserves mentioning, about Taiwan, and Japan, the food everywhere was simply awesome. Foodgasms, my travel friend would explain with still pent up longing. There are too many favorites, but at Hualien, the scallion pancake with its oozy fried egg inside is stapled to my memory. And Ximending's street stall stinky tofu, oyster pancake. And all those many wonderful izakayas in Tokyo and Kansai district. And the rice. And sweet oily mackerels and sardines. The kao liang, sake, & shochu. And I can really go on and on, and on.

The benefit of adopting a rather vegetarian intensive diet is that the Lent restrictions has been a piece of cake. It never made a difference in years prior because the once a week meatless meals was not such a hardship anyway. But aside from the more modest portioning, I am keeping it one meal per Friday, it feels like an everyday meal for me. The other day, at a neighborhood Japanese dinner, a friend said that if anything I should give up alcohol over meat, cuz that would be, like, meaningful to me. Which may be true, but I was like, I am not there searching for ways to deprive myself, ya know. It is not a competition. Besides, this lent thing is a purely symbolic gesture. I rationalize, perhaps. Anyway, they were feasting on all sorts of meat protein goodness, seared steak, tender tongues, and marinated mackerel-zushi. It was not as tough as you would think, sitting meekly on the sidelines while they pigged out, but it was not totally easy either.

The Jia Zhangke flicks I really hope to catch are: Xiao Wu, Platform, and The World. Xiao Wu (or Pickpocket) is his debut, and Platform is his second (and many estimate as his best). World came out when his reputation was firmly entrenched, and for whatever reason there was some backlash. It was still highly praised, but there was some reticence. World is a departure or shift in Jia's moviemaking, so I am thinking the popular (so to speak, cuz I can't imagine popular acceptance of any Jia movie) and critical reception needs time to come around. Maybe it already has. I am talking a little out of my ass though, as I have not seen the movie. What I did see, that dizzying delirious great opening (and bits from the trailer), looked unfuckingbelievably super.1

1. I borrowed World on DVD once, and had to turn it off after the first 3 or so minutes. Way too good not to watch in a proper movie screen. A dolled up modern Chinese person wanders the sprawling underbelly of an entertainment complex, repeating a plea if anyone has a band aid. An offscreen someone eventually responds, yelling at her to quit yelling. Jeez, that's like a metaphor or something, right? And that is just the opening sequence! Here's an alternate trailer.

Anyway, I was really tempted to catch MOMA's first screening of World this Friday. But. I was thinking of seeing if my girlfriend might want to see some Jia flicks with me, and figured World would probably be an ideal entry point, or Platform. Part of the reason is that Zhao Tao is in both of these, while still undiscovered for Xiao Wu. I must have already expressed that Zhao Tao is, like, the best actress ever, right? Maybe the best working actress currently? In all the good ways, Zhao Tao reminds me of my girlfriend, or maybe it is the reverse. For example, both are quite easy on the eye and radiate a fantastic, daring energy. Which must all be boring for you the reader (if anyone), my private fawning. Anyway, she said she was busy Friday, and the weekend in general. So I am going to take a chance to wait and see if maybe she can find time (and patience) next weekend. Even if it means missing Jia and Zhao introducing and Q&A'ing this weekend's screenings. However, I will be miffed if I miss any and all three of those movies.

Um, maybe I overstate with the "girlfriend" business.

Which may indicate relationship's problematic nature.

But for the moment, it seems fun to say or write "girlfriend." For a change.

Which may indicate loser.

Until recently, I kinda felt that Jia's nuclear detonation output would compel a designation as the 00's director of the decade.2 Admittedly a useless title, especially in a noncompetitive endeavor. However, in these accelerated times, Jia tackles the reality of modernity and modern life head on. Or at least better than anyone else.

2. Johnnie To? Claire Denis? Manoel de Oliveira, Eric Rohmer, Michael Haneke? They are in the discussion, but do not make the final round for one reason or another. Hong Sang Soo's rep seem to be soaring, but I lost touch with his movies years ago. And definitely not Wong Kar Wai.

Then while reviewing the various top decade lists, movies by Apichatpong Weerasethakul kept popping up around the top of the top lists. By that somewhat empirical basis, I am rethinking. Still a futile exercise, for the same reasons. I should preface this here by saying I only caught one Weerasethakul flick, Syndromes and a Century, which was really good, but I think its many merits are, in one form or another, present in his other flicks. I do intend to earnestly look out for screenings of his movies, but a disclaimer is deserved nonetheless. One is one. Anyhoo, the difference in Weerasethakul's moviemaking is that, above dreams and other subconscious doodling, there is transformative and mysterious magic. How everyday life, or despite it, is still informed by forces unseen and ancient.

The similarities between the two directors are likely numerous: patient, careful observations; sympathy for the struggle and the struggling; a wide, wandering curiosity; confident mastery of the language of moviemaking; thoughtful assembling of imagery, sound; and so forth. Yet, when it comes down to, I believe, assessment by the list-makers, it's the difference in emphasis, or approach, that finds one of these two directors more favored than the other. Jia's investigations into the perilous and loose grounds of contemporary reality/life versus Weerasthakul's assertions that the mystical still hovers outside (or inside) reality/life. It is unfair because the (probable) perceived differences are so inadequate, but it does speak to what kind of movies folks find more timely or essential for today (or as a recap for the decade). The portraits of the consequences and muddled interactions of modern life, or reminders that that invisible unknown has not yet forsaken modern society. Weerasthakul's otherworldliness wins out among the critical establishment. Of course, all the movies I have seen from these two dudes have been a-mazing, so really no losers here.

If I was the box in type, and again based on only viewing Syndromes and reputation, I would say Weerasthakul belongs in the camp of fable and myth tellers. Not in the way where the uncanny is used as a device or some other artifice, like what I kinda feel the surrealists do. But with the sincerity that the extraordinary (co-)exists, only our ability to relate/perceive/understand it has diminished. And the fable tellers offer an avenue for reconnection. Like Native Americans' (and most indigenous/"pagan" cultures, probably) communion with the spiritual/natural world, or the brilliant movies of Manoel de Oliveira and Eric Rohmer, or magic realism literature. Maybe.

Oh, and today, I did see Xiao Wu.3 Quite amazing. The MOMA introducer told how the museum promptly purchased a print of Jia's debut flick soon after its screening in the New Director New Films series. It is one of those debuts that you can tell more great things would be forthcoming.

3. "Today", and as I use most temporal place markers, is a vacillating term, in case you have not guessed.

Otherwise, I love Joanna Newsom's songs like I love my dick size.4 I did pick up Ys by harpist Newsom some months ago. I was initially a little wary cause I thought I missed the boat, since her CD had been out for a bit of time already, and what's cool about being unfashionably late to a party? But ever being cool ain't something that I should be much worried about, so I e-bought the download, and so glad I did. Astounding CD.

4. Raekwan, Ice Cream?

And so far, Have One On Me, her just released newest CD, has been close to as stupid good. Soulfully folksy, but at turns swooning bluesy, epic, & private, and then her enjoyable erratic voice, and the shimmering sprawl of literate lyrics. And everything else. So far, not much backlash. Have One is marketed as 3 CDs, with a 2+ hours of runtime. All the (18) tracks are listenable, but it would be a stretch to say all of the songs are successful. For whatever reason, I have not been able to connect to a few of the songs, at the moment. Those few songs may just not be up to the standards that I set for Newsom. Just as well, however, I may not be ready to be properly receptive to her new directions/ideas. This was the case with 1 or 2 of the Ys track, and yet, I ended up loving those Ys track more than the ones that initially drew me to finally buy that album.

Despite my saying there are some weaker tracks, boy, those many more marvelous Have One tunes are just flat out, like I already stated, good. In the loving lullaby for babe Esme, Newsom sweetly insists, "Kindness, kindness prevails!" I like to think so.

In a nationally televised late night performance of Soft as Chalk, Newsom showcased some goofy facial expressions as she twists and culls glorious life to her song. Do people criticize/mock when men folk strain to seek and bear voice to their tunes? I'm thinking no. Still, Newsom expressiveness does lean to the grotesque at times. It is what it is. But neither is that a criticism, or if anything, quite the opposite. Like keen athletic fingers that move with quickness to hold chords, or pick strings, hammer keys, Newsom physical toils to contemplate and produce magnificent, unique vocal performances are for fascination, applause, and admiration.
I watch you sleep,
repeating my prayer.
(Give love a shove
and it becomes terror.)
Now I am calling
in a sadness beyond anger
and beyond fear,
Who is there? Who's there?
Who is there?

I glare and nod
like the character, God,
bearing down
upon the houses and lawns.
I knew a little bit,
but, darling, you were it,
and, darling, now it is long gone.
Sweetheart, in your clean, bright start --
back there, behind a hill, and a dell,
and a state line or two --
I'll be thinking of you.
Yes, I'll be thinking,
and be wishing you well.
We land, I stand,
But I wait for the sound of the bell.
I have to catch a cab,
and my bags are at the carousel.
And then -- Lord, just then,
time alone will only tell.

I'm thinking something 'bout a long distance relationship on the rocks. A plane ride, for reunion, or in separation? Maybe I am a dim-bulbed philistine, but some of the piano bits from Soft as Chalk reminds me of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, or some ragtime-y rhythms. But this comes with a confession that I know, even putting it mildly, zilcho about music.

Have One's finale song Does Not Suffice is, like with any last song from a decent album worth its salt, quite outstanding. It ties some of the thematic strands and whatever narrative the previous 17 tracks traversed, including bits of melody off In California. Then Newsom offers her intonations, and those direct, precise images. And that nervy inquietude. The song starts:
I will pack up my pretty dresses.
I will box up my high-heeled shoes.
A sparkling ring, for every finger,
I'll put away, and hide from view.

Coats of boucle, jacquard and cashmere;
cartouche and tweed, all silver shot --
and everything that could remind you
of how easy I was not.

I guess it is not gonna be exactly your traditional happily ever after. I always say breakups and other relationship maladies are made for the most wonderful silver linings. Like yielding rich, plaintive love songs. And those word choices! Some I would never imagine ever annunciating. Kahil Gibran, in The Prophet, puts it:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

It is not complete garbage to say I am only happy when it rains, ya know. I tried to para-quote that sorrow carves to contain more joy bit in a conversation not that long ago, but very likely horribly mangled it. Now however, I think I will get it closer next time I fake erudition. Still, I simple cannot wait - as if it was a matter of choice - to get into a relationship if just for that messy disintegration.

Newsom continues, boiling the matter down:
It does not suffice for you to say I am a sweet girl,
or to say you hate to see me sad because of you.
It does not suffice to merely lie beside each other,
as those who love each other do.

Ha. I don't want to see you sad because of me. I probably said that baloney before. Or not. If not, at least I got material for next time. Optimism precludes an "if ever" addendum to next time. Well, maybe it is not exactly optimism if I am already prepping for the dissolution/quarreling.

Not Suffice concludes with this evocation:
The tap of hangers swaying in the closet --
unburdened hooks and empty drawers --
and everywhere I tried to love you
is yours again, and only yours.

Such lovely devastation. And precision. Actually, Not Suffice, from my limited exposure of Newsom's oeuvre, presents a rather different type of Newsom song, for its directness, a - for all practical purposes - artlessness. Her lyrics/poetry at times, while immensely eloquent, is given to a faith in the expressiveness of imagery and allusions. Not Suffice seems so naked and confessional in comparison. Though, if you ever gone through a (good, or more often bad) break up, serious question, what's with the overall need by the heartbroken one to state the matter as such, given the probably awareness or reality that the heartbreaking person (typically) no longer gives a shit? Maybe that old bugaboo closure?

And yet, Not Suffice does not actually conclude with those lines, but with an instrumental passage. I love dissonance in general, and Newsom really ends her song, and the album, in a shock wave revelry of weighty sonic rupture. An urgent contrast to the stately sparseness that carries through most of the song. A sorta minute and a half coda to the coda. Is yours again, and only yours. Loves it.

The only thing better than a new Newsom CD is something from my most favorite band ever, Lali Puna. Their, or more appropriately her, as Lali is all about frontwoman Valerie Trebeljahr and her singular electric genius, new Our Inventions CD is hitting stores and e-stores soon. Oboy. O-boy. Here are some videos. Trebeljahr looked like she got a little chunkier from the 04 to 05 year plus span, or her arms did.5 That, however, has no bearing that Trebeljahr remains the hottest and my most favorite chanteuse. And man, is that sky in St. Malo gorgeous too.6 Our Inventions soon, and hopefully a tour stop near me.

5. Assuming you click thru.

6. See note 5.

Till then, I just paid downloaded Beach House's Teen Dreams. Not sure how I feel about their atmospheric tunes, but not bad so far. Victoria Legrand has an androgynous-y thing going on with her singing. And the music is pretty and affecting. From what I gather, this Baltimorean dream-pop duo has been at it for awhile already, Teen Dreams is their third long play, but I just heard of them. Speaking of androgynous, I'd say Owen Pallett kinda gets there. Any delineation gets mushy in my ear where dudes range up to fine falsettos and chicks deepen with husky, bluesy voices. I am really doing my best to resist Owen Pallett's new CD. I pretty much like everything about him and his music, but it comes down to money. Or maybe someone has and wants to lend me Heartland?

By now, some, if any, may have noticed that I shuffled the sidebar links, including the new appearance of two links. The pieces of iwashi sushi I had in Tokyo, at various kaiten-zushi shops,7 was all, as is said locally, oishii. One of the Denpachi restaurants was, according to internet sources, in Shinjuku, the ward my hotel was in. Denpachi supposedly specializes in sardines. Never got the chance to go. Perhaps next time. In the US of A, the tinned stuff is among the usual suspects in my pantry: topped on sandwiches, sauced for pasta, and so forth, all yummy. Plus, sardines are healthful and a fairly sustainable wild fish sources; proper management is still a must however. But the sardine fan site showed me to what to look for in the market, what is good and not. And I admire the silly, happy devotion.

7. Even at Narita, a last sushi high before leaving. As tips go, if you have the time, go to the food court in the domestic terminal, the chow is a little bit better there.

The other new link is to my photo site. It is ... uh, well, it is what it is, photos.



Thursday, March 04, 2010

Mt Rushmore/Crazy Horse Memorial/Badlands


It would not be entirely accurate to credit my crush for life girl for my if not total conversion but greater emphasis on a vegetarian diet. At different times, T was fasting, a vegan, an eggs, diary & fish vegetarian, and, as she puts it, "as long as I don't know what's in it" vegetarian. Plus, an aversion or allergies to shellfish, mushroom, cumin, and counting. What the? Forget assigning credit, try understanding first. Women folk are not easy to figure out, even a perfect in nearly every way one like T.

It wouldn't be difficult to come up with reasons that have nothing to do with my enduring infatuation for T. A reason, if annoyingly secular, is that, mostly cook at home a hella lot, meat is way mad expensive. Or, the vegetarian alternatives are much less so: legumes, rice, tubers, greens, and that sort of stuff. Not to mention carcass proteins are a hassle to shop. Another is health reasons. Often all the basic nutritional needs and without many of the harmful arterial side effects can be met with a balanced veg diet.

A big reason is also a greater vegetarian diet conforms better with how I feel about the environment and culture. These days, no kidding ourselves, the veg most people get and consume are off mechanized, science enhanced, and filth producing industrial enterprise. Yet, as we still have to eat, the veg farm/industry is leaps and bounds mo' betta than meat production. That's the environment side. And also the answer to the lesser of two evils choice between grain fed vs grass fed beef. It don't matter. Just eat less of either/both. Way less, like way over 50% less for the typical fatassed American.

The culture side has probably more to do with my luddite leanings/yearnings. For most of history, and currently still for many people 'round the world, meat proteins make up a tiny portion of most meals. And usually prominent for "special" meals, whether prosaic weekly family dinners or bigger celebrations. That luddite taint did all sorts of things to alter my kitchen habits. I don't really imagine this as weird, but, for example, I keep a freezer bag in the ... uh, freezer with all the odd ends of various veggies and herbs I may on occasion utilize, like the stem sides of carrots, fronds of fennel, stripped stalks of thyme, and add 'em as either aromatic for stock, or straight up for veggie stock. Also a freezer bag for poultry carcasses, another for shrimp shells, and etc. for, again, stock. A small jar of rendered duck fat, when I had from past-made duck whatever dishes; duck fat is taste bud dynamite. And a larger-sized jar of my "red cooked" master stock. These type of use and reuse things happen in a lot of households, and, I assume, were status quo in the not too distance past.

With chilly winter on the way out, I'm looking forward to rebooting my container herb garden. Even with only one short season managing my small windowsill patch with dubious success, winter without fresh and accessible herbage was a harsh deprivation. While sorta planning out what varieties to incorporate, what I worried about was soil and fertilization quality. Do you know what compost is? I don't, but that impairment does stop me from figuring it might be something I need, if it was affordable. Anywayz, the point of which is that I started thinking, gee whiz, I should be composting. Well, specifically contributing my organic rubbish to a compost. Composting ain't always easy to do in the big city, but more feasible in less urban setting. Of late, I have been sorting non-paper/plastic/glass waste into two bins, for landfill and for composting, and plan out trips to the couple of collection areas in my neighborhood. This borders, I think, in taking things a little far. Maybe. The gist is that these collection entities gather the organic trash, add it to their far away compost heap, let nature do her decay thing, and then package the stuff as expensive potting compost. Sadly, no likely return favor in free or discounted potting compost for me. Oh wellz.

It also would be inaccurate to say that magically radiant T played no part in my burgeoning sorta vegetarianism. Quite some time back, my favorite girl C stated her desire for a vegan conversion. I was totally, like, whatever. T's example, like T herself, is something else. One is the tremendous force with which I am happily attentive to everything about her, resulting that I would be much more receptive to her vegetarian/vegan tales. Then, some of it is participating in her decision and sharing the pleasure in that. Holy shit, does that sound unhealthily obsessive? Hmm... it would be a lie to say I ain't obsessed with T, and her dark nourishing eyes. I don't necessarily mean sharing in her experiences or using that as a vehicle to relate better to/with her, but at the same time I want to foster however my own interests may align with hers. Well fuck, that certainly don't sound less obsessive now, does it? Maybe this gets it better: the fact that T was a more or less dedicated vegetarian made it fun as I changed my dining habits, even while my changes evolved independently. Not related to anything, but the distracted, grand potency of T's voice is pure joy.

All said, I'm not and wouldn't wanna be a vegetarian. Tortured or otherwise slain animals and animal products taste yums. That alone should be sufficient reason. If there was a dawn of time time where human folks sustained their groups/packs/villages exclusively on vegan meals, I would say that was rather short lived. Humans are omnivores by nature. Moreover, denying or rejecting meat is in many ways a denial or rejection of important familial and societal celebrations/traditions. This mangles it but there is the subverted "eat to live, not live to eat" adage. Turning away from something that taste good, and has been a key element in any cultural celebration, seems like a mighty, awkward strain. For the animal's part, I do my best to honor, as a lot of chefs and foodie and farmers like to flaunt, every section of the carcass, from hooves, sweetbread, blood, offals, to ears, cheeks and stewed tails.

As for, probably not all, other arguments for vegan adoption, about the cruel treatment of animals, I, and this seems kinda brutal I know, I don't care. Animals are, I believe by definition, animals. Maybe it's because my cold evil heart and soul has never been properly thawed by pet ownership, but as foie gras and lamb, as clear cases of more inhumane aspect of food production, are so delicious, it's really tough breaks for any organism lower than humans in the food chain, which is basically everything.

Aside from the feelings, or "feelings" as I mock, of the animals themselves, there is also the gross avalanche of filth that is associated with meat production, as it relates to the food itself and the defacement to mother nature's natural landscape. Disease, hormone cocktails, feces, chemical runoffs, profligate inefficiencies, usurpation of vast tracts of land for nefarious and unnatural industries. But you know what? Somewhat recently in a too brief - because anything short of forever, as it relates to T, would be too brief - conversation with T, she accused me, I hope not too seriously, of hypocrisy for stating sustainability as one of my chief dining principles, cuz meat production, as, like I confessed, I still eat beef, is just about the worst use/disaster to the environment. I replied, I know. The thing is that nearly everything that is horrible about livestock cultivation goes on with non-livestock industrial farming too. Any high ground is a rather low hung fruit. And for counter arguments about going organic, or careful, selective purchasing from trusted sources, well, the same could be said for meat and meat products too. No? Right?

It's tough to sustain a morally or intellectually honest position on this unless it's really a dedicated shift to a fringy, marginalia type stance. There must only be a slight incremental harm in modest consumption of meat products as opposite to a complete vegan diet. Unless the vegan food source is really home grown or well researched reputable providers. In which case, that's pretty impossible except for folks with abundant space to farm and garden on their own, or for the ultra wealthy who can afford the exorbitant premiums of reputable goody two shoe providers. In which case, I hate from envy those people. About the moral position for the inhumane treatment of slaughtering/exploiting animals. Well, treating animals inhumanely is not a big deal, because they aren't humans. But okay, let's say that's subjective or I'm a total dick and am completely wrong on this. I think then, is whether abstaining from inhumane treatment through non-consumption of meat a valid moral position. More to the point if cruelty is such a yucky evil, is abstention enough? I'm not talking about full throttled radical PETA-rorism, but let's say a devout vegan who shops at Whole Foods, and thus adds cash money to the bank accounts of those who promote animal misery and torment. It doesn't take much to get messy fast. Or likely, I'ma just stupid or simple about all this, and not know what the fuck I'm talking/writing about.1

1. And just as much, I have no idea what T does aside from her various stated dining status.

Regardless I hope I'm not coming across as preachy, cuz I know that ain't peachy. So what does this all come down to? Nothing. What a surprise, huh?

There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
2

2. Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself".

Once upon a time, I was posed, "What was the most beneficial course you took in college or highschool and why was it beneficial?" My answer, "None specifically. The courses in college and high school should be taken for the pleasure in and of itself."

Part of Mike Rose pretty darn outstanding book Why School? deals with this:
We live in an anxious age and seek our grounding, our assurances in ways that don't satisfy our longing--that, in fact, make things worse. We've lost hope in the public sphere and grab at private solutions, which undercut the sharing of obligation and risk and keep us scrambling for individual advantage. We've narrowed the purpose of schooling to economic competitiveness, our kids becoming economic indicators. We've reduced our definition of human development and achievement--that miraculous growth of intelligence, sensibility, and the discover of the world--to a test score. Though we pride ourselves as a nation of opportunity and a second chance, our social policies can be terribly ungenerous.

Not one to shy from redundancy, Rose again, this time not from the book:
What we hear from across the political spectrum is that the reason we send our children to school is to be ready for the 21st Century economy. And the way we measure our success is through a standardized test that is typically far removed from the cognitive give and take of the classroom.3

3. From Huffington Post.

Now Rose, and is clearly stated repeatedly as such in Why School, does allow, "[t]o be sure, a major goal of American education is to prepare the young to make a living." The problem lies where that the economic/career motive tsunamis every other consideration. "But parents send their kids to school for many other reasons as well: intellectual, social, civic, ethical, aesthetic. Historically, these justifications for schooling have held more importance."

What I'm getting at here is that in, and I should qualify as limited/abbreviated phone conversations I had with a relation o' mine, let's call the dude J, several talks with J, he described his lil' girl's college misadventures, and his main desire that she gets out of there with marketable job skills, aka employment prospects/security.

My view on this is more extreme than Rose. But let's mellow with Rose first. Rose might say to J that his concerns are valid, but insufficient and way too confined. These various excerpts are good, so don't casually glance through any of them.4 Why School addresses some of the things that are lost, no longer addressed or obscured, as economic goals have dominated the educational discussion, and why revitalization of these non-economic considerations is a matter of tremendous urgency:
We educate for a number of reasons, and people have written about them since the first decades of the republic: to pass on tradition and knowledge, to prepare the young for democratic life, to foster moral and intellectual growth, to enable individual and societal prosperity. All are legitimate, and a good education fosters each of them.
There's not much public (and private) discussion of achievement that includes curiosity, reflectiveness, uncertainty, or a willingness to take a chance, to blunder. And how about accounts of reform that present change as alternately difficult, exhilarating, ambiguous, and promising - and that find reform not in a device, technique, or structure, but in the way we think about teaching and learning? Consider how little we hear about intellect, aesthetics, joy, courage, creativity, civility, understanding. For that matter, think of how rarely we hear of commitment to public education as the center of a free society.
We need public (and private) talk that links education to a more decent, thoughtful, open society. Talk that raises in us as a people the appreciation for deliberation and reflection, or for taking intellectual risks and thinking widely - for the sheer power and pleasure of using our minds, alone or in concert with others. We need a discourse that inspires young people to think gracefully and moves young adults to become teachers and foster such development.

4. In fact, Rose has an exacting perceptive writing style that is quite good.

I come around on this this way, any parent holding that economic/career preparation is the goal for his or her child's education, that position is just plain folly. Rather, those other more aspirational goals should be the sole motivation for a young adult student. Borrowing Rose's word from different sections in Why School:
A good education helps us make sense of the world and find our way in it.
All the foregoing helped me develop a sense of myself as knowledgeable and capable of using what I know. This is a lovely and powerful quality - cognitive, emotional, and existential all in one. It has to do with identity and agency, with how we define ourselves, not only in matters academic but also in the way interact with others and with institutions. It has to do with how we move through our economic and civic lives. Education gave me the competence and confidence to independently seek out information and make decisions, to advocate for myself and my parents and ... to probe political issues, to resist simple answers to messy social problems, to assume that I could figure things out and act on what I learned. In a sense, this was the best training I could have gotten for vocation and citizenship.

Or, I'll repeat: The courses in college and high school should be taken for the pleasure in and of itself. The main gist for why is that, and obviously there are qualifiers for this, young adult kids have zero clue about careers or any economic/vocational future. We are talking about maturing teens who firmly believe manga and anime to be the epitome of artistic expression, who make selection of majors based on the choices of their boy/girlfriends, who have hardly been in the real and wider world, let alone can project themselves in that world

For J to hold to the belief that the goal of higher education is preparing his daughter for a career, that first requires - even greater - faith that his daughter is capable of deciding on a job path early on in college, stick with that job path through college, and then pursue that job after college. Goodness, even Job wouldn't be able to muster the requisite stride for that leap of faith. Now there are, like I said qualifiers, in the form of exceptions like strict vocational schools. Or the highly motivated, serious minded youths who are already dead set in pursuing dentistry, pharmacy, accounting, agriculture, and so forth; in which case, good for fucking them. Or those with obvious talent, like my blog idol desaite, who back in the daze as a wee high schooler was already a highly accomplish and superb spinner of prose.5 But J's daughter, like most of the bourgeoisie dreck - I don't mean it quite as nasty as that sounds, but it is what it is - use college to find, and discover, and, yes, blunder. Or, most kids change majors, flunk, drop out, make bad decisions about alcohol, drugs, & sex, nearly go to jail, run up fantastically high bills, stay up way too late, eat poorly, choose bad friends, and so forth. No use fighting that.6

5. I also gloss too quickly the fact that many kids leave high school ill prepared with basic academic skills, and need college as remedial training.

6. Not too long ago, I was talking with some people, and I stated how it wasn't till well after college that I began to appreciate food. By way of bringing an analogy to this, imagine asking a college student what would be a great meal. The typical response likely would be something safe, vague, and/or boring. And this is only about food. It takes time, experimentation, curiosity, and daring to even look at food. Projecting a career is going to be different or simpler? How?

So my stance, dads should encourage and harness that exploration and curiosity first/foremost/solely in their children, or better yet, participate in it. Nothing productive happens in college. I know it's hard for J, footing the tuition, housing, meal plan, and miscellaneous, to accept that college is a degree dangling scam. Well, J is sensible, so he knows higher education is more or less a con, but most fathers think their progeny somehow will be different and really take full advantage of college. Nothing to say for this except, sigh.

The better way to beat the system is to forget all that economic career mumbo jumbo, but use school for the kid's pleasure, taking whatever classes that fosters, informs, and intensifies curiosity. And if she comes out the other end more curious, that's a victory. Or, perhaps this will make it more palpable, that cultivated and honed curiosity likely will go a longer way in making J's daughter marketable and interesting, and fiercely aware of herself and her abilities.7

7. If anything, mastering time management probably would have the biggest impact on ones career.

Then again, there'd be less to convince if she passes all her classes.

As qualifiers go, I also don't want to seem like I am cavalierly disparaging youths out there. Toward the end of Why School, Rose quotes from John Dewey:
The child of three who discovers what can be done with blocks, or of six who finds out what he can make by putting five cents and five cents together, is really a discoverer, even though everybody else in the world knows it.

I bring up this gentle appreciation of cognitive growth because it applies to jaded college students as well. Which might seem an odd way of not disparaging folks, declaring that they not know the things pretty much most adults know, but J's girl and most young adults are still discoverers. And in this respect, I'm rather reverential of and amazed with the depth and range as their potential get realized. Envious, even.

So, there were talks of an extended road trip this summer. San Francisco was supposedly a potential destination, but I was made to understand that Vancouver was among the options too. Vancouver, or specifically the northwest, holds much more appeal to me. There is just many more stop options for the drive. The way I see the route, there would be - from east to west - Chicago to Mt Rushmore/Crazy Horse Memorial/Badlands to Yellowstone Park to Montana's Bozeman dinosaur attractions and natural hot springs to Glacier National Park to Emerald City Seattle, and etc. Essentially, plenty of neato places en route for a quick 5 minute scramble.8 Anyway, you know what various google sources said would be another worthwhile stop along the way? Cour d'Alene, for its lakeside, resorty scenery. Cool.

8. See "Bande a part".

This is off of near the end of Tom Pynchon's Against the Day:
Jess brought home as an assignment from school "write an essay on What It Means To Be An American."
"Oboy, oboy." Reef had that look on his face, the same look his own father used to get just before heading off for some dynamite-related activities. "Let's see that pencil a minute."
"Already done." What Jesse had ended up writing was,
It means do what they tell you and take what they give you and don't go on strike or their soldiers will shoot you down.
"That's what they call the 'topic sentence'?"
"That's the whole thing."
"Oh."
It came back with a big A+ on it. "Mr. Becker was at the Cour d'Alene back in the olden days. Guess I forgot to mention that."

Apparently it's easy for me to forget my history. Cour d'Alene was also the setting for some mean and murderous labor tussles.9 Now the Idaho city is famous as a popular weekend retreat for the region's well to do. Cool. But anyway, for the time being, Vancouver seems to be out of the running for the summer.

9. "Against the Day". A-mazing.

This is not, seriously is not, Obama is a big fat phony w-site. The many cheapshots visitors (if any) may perceive notwithstanding. Well, I uh, well, he is. Which is besides the point. The ultimate thing is that I'm woefully ill equipped, nor have any such interest, to be his e-attack/watch dog.10

10. I guess this requires slightly more clarification, in the slightly drawn out story type of way. On Democracy Now recently, there was a show-long interview with Rob Redford, who depending on age group, was either your mum's or your grandmum's prime screen heartthrob. The interview was ... alright. Like always and in all things, cause that's the type of jerk I am, I can find things that I wish were different or, to brass tack it, better, but alright is alright. Anywayz, there was some questions lobbed for Redford about his outsider status. In response, the once matinee headliner described his formative years studying in Europe and his entanglement with politically curious youths in Paris, which included, "And they would challenge me politically, and I knew nothing. I grew up at a time when Nixon was the senator in California, Earl Warren was the governor. I thought they were boring. They were guys in suits that sounded boring and acted boring, and so I didn't have any interest in them. When I was challenged, I was humiliated. They said, “How can you not know how you feel about your country? How can you not know about the politics, when you’re in the strongest country in the world?” Well, I was chagrined." (Emphasis mine.)

This blog is meant to do certain things, in some ways a lot of things, and in many more ways no things. But even where the content might have a political slant, this a not a political blog, whatever and however that might be defined. Yet, that is not to say that political considerations, more specifically as Redford describes it, "how you feel about your country," should be dismissed, discouraged, or ignored and so forth. Even in the oft skewed and more oft inadequate way I stay inform about these things, knowing about how you feel about your country is dearly important. Just that for me, not sure if this needs to be added but what the hey, up till today at least, this blog is not where and how I'm doing it.


Why School, in addition to the above, intrigued me with quite a few other ideas. One rejuvenating surprise was that the purpose of education is to produce an in/evolved citizen. It is a prominent expressed in several of the excerpts I had above: "to prepare the young for democratic life," "commitment to public education as the center of a free society," and "the best training I could have gotten for vocation and citizenship."

I had asserted that pleasure and curiosity building was the main aim in education, but in a sense, it's not that removed from Rose's conception of a realized citizen. Citizenry has so much to do with curiosity, being interested in those things that might not seem to be of immediate concern, but in fact actually is. Where the self is not viewed in isolation from the world, but within the broader world/community/neighborhood/other hokey idealism.

The other outstanding thing Why School does is the examination of opportunity, and in the process reveal how powerful it is.
... I'm especially interested in what opportunity feels like. Discussion of opportunity are often abstract -- as in ideological debate -- or conducted at a broad structural level -- as in a pollicy deliberation. But what is the experience of opportunity? Certainly one feels a sense of the possibility, of hope. But it is hope made concrete, specific, hope embodied in tools, or practices, or sequences of things to do -- pathways to a goal. And all this takes place with people who interacts with you in ways that affirm your hope.

People leery about calls for standards need to remember their benefits and reclaim them for democratic ends, despite the fact that standards and assessments can be used to limit access and stratify students into educational tracks, or can lead to an overly prescriptive and narrow curriculum.

I habitually (possibly simplistically) diss hope. But perhaps all those hope advocates know something I don't (I am still a discoverer?). Anyway, last year I wrote that I like to see within the first year of the Administration:
  • Retool DOMA, if not its obliteration,
  • Drastic troop drawdown in Iraq.
  • Drastic troop drawdown in Afghanistan
  • Guantanomo detainees released or tried under courts in accordance with full due process rights.
  • Increase spending on infrastructure (non-highway variety) and alternative energy.
  • Universal health care
  • EFCA passage.

If I had my heart set on any of the items, let's just say disappointment city, as either it hasn't or ain't ever going to happening, and in some cases horribly and intolerably so. Which regardless, not that Obama needs it, I'm going to give him a pass. Unless anyone has no clue how the USA government work, it ain't only about Obama, but also those little people in Congress too. And judiciary, and bureaucracy, other folks in the executive, and etc.

For sure, culpability (and credit) is most readily charged to the president, as the national figurehead and all, and for that matter, I ain't absolving Obama either. Rather, responsibility to fix and improve our nation and the lives of her inhabitants is shouldered by all the different members of our mutilated government. Nothing prevents any specific person from tackling headon the challenges and roadblocks, from correcting what needs correcting, from pushing the work of government to a better path. They, just as much as Obama, were elected to - or otherwise voluntarily accepted - office. This is not a call for the folks in Congress (or any other branch) to cooperate with the White House, or with each other. No, government officials meed to rise above party, lobby groups, or any other allegiances and make their intelligence, independence, energy, and conscience their guide to bring the necessary change and reform, and be loud and persistent (aka not measly symbolic outrage) when things do not go well. It's not okay to defer to get along decorum, be hand tied by partisanship, or bend to the meekness within ones own political party or the fear/confusion of the populace. And I'm not ignoring some members of Congress, for example, who try to do good work, but, as I'm raining blame, I guess it ain't good enough, and they gots to do better. Otherwise, all that remains is squandered opportunity.

Since this is a pox on all houses screed, let's not, for us folks in the private sector, settle as a fatass, docile citizenry either. To not be discouraged before the fortifications of evil, especially as those carapaces are most often held only by flimsy compromise and neglect. No more turning a blind eye, or throwing up hands to formidable status quo. If the men and women in DC can not find the opportunities in these dark and contentious times, good and brave citizens can. Otherwise, why school?

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This might reflect poorly, but here goes.

Tarrytown, NY is historically and usually linked with Washington Irving. For which the immediate thing that pops to my mind is how cool that Tarrytown was the birthplace of peanut butter, and other peanut product derivatives.

Seconds, maybe a minute later, oh, that's George Washington Carver. And I still have no idea what the Legend of Sleepy Hollow or Rip Van Winkle is. Well, I kinda do and don't. I misremember it as Rip Van Wrinkle, and suspect it to be a cautionary cosmetic tale about frown lines, brow furrows and such.


Wednesday, January 20, 2010

No Safeword


As I continue to read Pynchon's Against the Day, one thought that keeps popping up is "holy shit." And most of that is just for how a-mazing the writing is. There is this urge to rip out the page and to gobble up the words, and then a paragraph later, sentences later even, same thing: tear page shove in mouth words in belly.

Then the whole Obama thing, as in his campaign for a Peace Prize repeat with the cruise missile strikes in Yemen and corresponding mass murder of civilians, including lots of children, fuck sake. He's our (or your) hero?

Or two other hot button issues of climate policies and healthcare reform. I can afford brevity because as anyone (if any) following along here might already predict about my perspective on the O-administration tackling of any significant issue or its agenda as a whole: nothing is happening. Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing. And that's the optimistic take.

Being the good leftist that I fake out to be, the last Bill Moyers Journal was pretty interesting.1 Robert Kuttner, whoever the fuck he is, sez he (and I think by extension, the public) would do the hold-nose-vote-bad-bill for healthcare reform to bolster the failed president and the failed Democratic party. And saying failed is being kind, cause what we have here is a betrayal. I mean seriously, ain't it like, okay, he got elected already, that ain't enough for his confidence? The American folks have to get another round of mass anal raping and wish something good will happen in 2010. Really? Tighten the buckles, slip on the ball gag, and assume the strappado, is that right? And in this BDSM passion play, the politicians never tell you, there is no safeword.

1. Um, well, this entry was conceived, and more or less mostly written, end of December 09, so "last" would be very inaccurate. December 18, 2009 episode? Similarly, the Yemen missile attack, dated, though relevance hardly outdated.

For Obama and the Democrats and their waterlogged healthcare reform, I think, rather, Tupac: We might fight amongst each other but I promise you this / we’ll burn this bitch down, get us pissed.

The second segment of Bill Moyers' television show was on battling in the foreclosure crisis. What might not be obvious but I should make so, is that I don't really care about a lot of the banking problem. For the most part, I realize the politicians are in bed with the banking industry to screw ordinary people. And admit that a hella lot of money has been burned to save the banking fat cats. But I give them more of a pass because within the banking industry there is more competition with each company to screw each other (as well as other big corporate interest) over. And most players are financially sophisticated. Even Mr. Joe and Mrs. Josie Shmoe home buyer, the contracts and mortgages are there for their due diligence review. So I'm not naturally sympathetic to all the get-aheaders who got in over their heads.

I'm also befuddled over the freakout over bonuses. Especially with the absence of parallel outrage for bonus payouts in pharmaceuticals, information technology, industrials, sports, entertainment, agriculture, and so forth. It's like some talks with my dad about the Yankees, he's steamed about Alex Rodriguez's salary, but ignores the fistful of money stuffed in ownership's pockets. I can't see the exact sense, or intellectual honesty, in joining the bank bonus boo chorus. I also own some shares in a couple of such financial institutions, but seems to me, considering the widespread criticism, that doesn't imply bias, one way or the other.

But back to the point, the Moyers Journal foreclosure segment was a feature on Steve Meachum of City Life/Vida Urbana and it brought up alot of good points that I'ma guessing I need to re-think part, if not all, of this housing meltdown business. Something to do with not evicting these miserable loser legions and allowing them to repurchase (or refinance?) their homes at the "fair market" rate, which coincidentally is what the banks would be doing anyway via the foreclosure proceedings, but don't for the original owner out of a profound belief in punishing (aka moral hazard) the poor suckers. Huh? There is something seriously wrong, or seriously can be improved upon, here.

Meachum's story also spotlights why I'm increasingly antsy with what the media or politicians or pundits state as a lack of protest or unrest with all the rotten happening in business and politics. I see plenty of folks putting up fights, mostly brave, sometimes hopeless. If anything, I see the media, politicians, and pundits not paying due attention to the populous movements, and more, much more, tragically missing out on the chance to join in them.

A fine goldmine of a Moyers Journal also had his 2009 book recommendations. Oh social consciousness wet dream! I'ma maybe taking too much liberty in saying "recommendations" for what are instead his 2009 top book picks. Ain't exactly the same thing as recommendations, I'da think? Oh wellz. But I've been seeking to restock my to read pile with a new Amazon order and the list has a couple of need-to-get. Like Why School? by Mike Rose.

As valid as voodoo maybe, but it is like making a connection to read on a subject that I think H (for Helen) has a more than passing interest in, amirite? The assumption is that anyone working in education must have a stronger than strict professional interest. At least until he or she is so tenured and then it's just joining forces with the teacher's union to leech the system, uh, maybe? Anyway, who's to say whether Why School will be hardcore or relevant enough. But that's all I got, and it's as a good of a source I got for guidance on the state of education, which I have to assume is a freakin mess.

Once upon a time via internet chats, H would, uh, chat with me off and on, less so for what's been a pretty long time already. Other professional or personal priorities might be filling her down time commitments, or maybe a late discovery that I'm a rotten to the core cad. Or nothing, just one of those things that happen. Whatever, if any, connection that occurs from reading a book, I suppose it's one sided. Certain things from our past conversations resurface, some matters that are of concern for her are shared, aspects of her daily/professional life textualize, and so forth. Not in a definitive or emphatic way, but in a rather measly but tonal way. Still, it's hard to say, for example, whether reading up on education will be ultimately reductive, as in anticipating or foreclosing what H might say, or expansive, giving color or shape to her stories. In any case, when (if) I chat with her again... well, hopefully we'll find amusement with life's simpler digressions and not broach on work related ho-hum. And if a talk don't come up as soon as I may like, Why School will just be a makeshift pathway to be around some of her preoccupations.

This past holiday, among other gifts Santa-surrogates gave me, was Superfreakonomics and Logicomix. Logicomix was not super. For a lot of reasons. One of which is that the chicks in the comic are so poorly written. Objects for men to, on whim, lust, pity and ignore. Half objects even. In a better universe, Alys or Evelyn would step out in flesh, blood, and bone, find the co-writers, and slap them bloody and hard. But then again, if they somehow did join our real life world, they'd probably have more pressing matters to attend than my revenge fantasy.

As faint praise, I would say Annie Di Donna did a bang up coloring job in Logicomix, a lot of the warm vibrancy, say, of Herges' Tintin or Krahulik's Penny Arcade stuff. I'm geek enough that coloring is interesting. Otherwise, Logicomix flunks the decent graphic novel standard. I took Superfreakonomics with me on my trip, expecting or fearing I'd finish it super quick and it'd be a deadweight for the rest of the trip. But even with double digits flight duration - each way - I read only a lil over 100 or so pages. So much for stressing that I would run dry of vacation reading material.

Also otherwise, now that I did finish it, Superfreakonomics is pretty good, and useful.

A bit of some odds and ends. In a recent blog entry, I listed some directors not mentioned at all in either of Time Out NY's or London's decade's best list. And you know what? about my snubbed list, not one of em a chick. Which, in typical I'm never wrong recalcitrant fashion, those eight directors I named were for those that had two great flicks this past decade (and from my viewing, wouldn't have resulted in any female directors not already listed). A wider net with 1 great flick probably would have resulted in more female directors (such as Mia Hansen-Love).

But I don't think I could too vigorously defend my excuses. One thing about blogging is I can go back and kinda see, when I did such exercises, the representation of female directors in my past yearly top 10 (or 5) lists. 2006 none; 2005 Claire Denis, Agnes Varda, Lucrecia Martel & Zana Briski; 2004 none again(!); 2003 Lynne Ramsay; 2002 Lee Jeong-hyang, Jeong Jae-eun, Claire Denis, & Nicole Holofcener (as an honorable mention). Gee, that ain't much of a record. I ignore the so so movies of Ann Hui, Nora Ephron, Nancy Meyer, Mira Nair, Sofia Coppola, etc. Ultimately, I haven't really caught that many chick directors. I've never seen any Catherine Breillat, Kelly Reichardt, Jane Champion, Chantal Akerman, or Rebecca Miller, from the brighter batch of chick directors, if a confession is called for.

Still, more than my own viewing habits (without mitigating the narrow scope of those choices), it's the industry that really is not giving the gals opportunities to make and then to showcase/distribute/market their movies. And by extension to the industry, critics and the media are also implicated. From Time Out NY's decade's top 50 list, only two chick directors were represented Claire Denis and Mary Harron. Time Out London's decade's top 101 list has 4 chicks: Marjane Satrapi, Catherine Breillat, Kelly Reichardt, and Sofia Coppola. Not a lot of chicks there. Rather pitiful. Film Comments 2000-decade survey has 4 female directors in the top 50: Claire Denis, Agnes Varda, Kathryn Bigelow, & Lucrecia Martel.2 Over at Film Salon, in its discussion for Films of the Decade and Directors of the Decade, you know how many female directors or female directed flicks were mentioned? 1. 1 for Rebecca Miller's The Ballad of Jack and Rose.

2. I absolutely love Agnes Varda, and she is a first rate director, but lists that mix documentaries and narrative movies suggest, to me, insufficient rigor. Or, not enough consideration is given to either form of moviemaking, and hipness, splashiness, or name checking becomes central. Or that's my first take problem with it.

At some point, a movie needs to stand on its own merit, without consideration to class, age, gender, ethnicity, sex orientation, nationality, etc. There's been entire years that no movies by female directors (if I saw any) placed in my fav/top list. And I haven't considered a decade's ranking. So all and all, who's to say where'I'd rank movies by chick directors. But there is something tangibly and terribly amiss going on if one considered the state of women directors or women made movies. Maybe.

This all is so inadequate, ain't it? I know. I'll leave it as is.

This is UK's movie rag Sight & Sound compiled top 10 for 2009:

1 A Prophet (Un Prophète) (Jacques Audiard, France/Italy)
=2 The Hurt Locker (Kathryn Bigelow, USA)
=2 35 Shots of Rum (35 rhums) (Claire Denis, France/Germany)
4 The White Ribbon (Das Weisse Band) (Michael Haneke, Germany/Austria/France/Italy)
5 Let the Right One In (Låt den rätte komma in) (Tomas Alfredson, Sweden/Norway)
=6 Up (Pete Docter, USA)
=6 White Material (Claire Denis, France)
=8 Bright Star (Jane Campion, UK/Australia)
=8 Antichrist (Lars von Trier, Denmark/Germany/France/Sweden/Italy/Poland/Belgium)
10 Inglourious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino, USA/Germany)

And here's NY's Film Comment version:

1. The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow, U.S. 772 points
2. The Headless Woman, Lucrecia Martel, Argentina/Spain/France/Italy 762
3. Summer Hours, Olivier Assayas, France 745
4. 35 Shots of Rum, Claire Denis, France/Germany 605
5. Fantastic Mr. Fox, Wes Anderson, U.S. 552
6. Police, Adjective, Corneliu Porumboiu, Romania 542
7. Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino, U.S./Germany 499
8. A Serious Man, Joel & Ethan Coen, U.S./U.K./France 472
9. The Beaches of Agnès, Agnès Varda, France 404
10. Lorna’s Silence, Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne, Belgium/France/Italy/Germany 382

Nothing to say about this except: Let the Right One In, awesome, awesome, awesome movie.

Keeping in spirit with nothing to say, also this. I don't know anything about A Prophet, or haven't followed the publicity for it. About Jacques Audiard, back in 05, I caught The Beat That My Heart Skipped with my favorite gal C (for Christine) cuz she was hot for Romain Duris. I wasn't too bowled over by the movie or Duris's performance.

These days, in the ww-web, Pascal's Wager is most prominently raised in association with the disaster that is the environment. Summarized as: the benefits of treating the global warming as a real threat, even if the catastrophe never materializes, far outweighs the gamble from doing nothing against global warming. The argument goes: taking steps as if the threat was real means (A) catastrophe is averted, if global warming were to happen or (B) net boon of long term advantages such as cleaner environment, energy independence, better national security, renewed manufacture & tech base, and so forth, if global meltdown is a sham; not taking any steps against climate change means (C) catastrophe dooms everyone, if global meltdown occurs or (D) long term disadvantage of bad environment, continued dependence on foreign oil, increased national security threats, lost opportunities with new manufacturing and technology, etc., if global warming is fake.

Which, when I first came across such formulation, seemed imminently sensible to me. Other e-folks quickly shot back that it was an updated Pascal's Wager argument, for which I mistakenly thought validated it. Too easily impressed with fancy terms. But it was apparent that the term was not meant to reinforce said argument, but to debunk. I wondered, then, how or why.

I'ma willing to bet the fallacies or drawbacks with employing a Pascal's Wager type argument would be easily obvious to many. Cause most folks are just plain smarta than me. If I hada cook up sumthing to counter the climate Cassandras, I'd go:

1) Erroneous faith in ability to predict the right steps to be undertaken.
2) Erroneous faith in whoever or whatever is planning/executing the steps.
3) Erroneous assumption that other individual, corporations, or governments will share similar views/goals/steps/etc.
4) Related, but distinct enough I think, unpossibility that sufficient coordination/cooperation among other parties (individual, corporate, or inter/national level) can ever happen.
5) Erroneous faith that the right problems are targeted.
6) Erroneous faith that the right causes to the problems are identified.
7) Erroneous calculations on the (net) boon slash cost.
8) Etc.

Extending a line of inquiry or injecting a lil more complexity (scientific, economic, social, personal, etc.) and the Pascal's Wager type justification for climate action starts to look silly, or naive, or wrong - depending on how nice or not nice you wanna be to the person bring up that gambit. I'll take as example something that seems kind of removed from the core stance of many climate doomsayers, grass fed cows. At first blush, or for the half informed like usually myself, grass fed beef is the way to go, for many reasons, including the suggestion that it's a more natural product: pasture land, wilderness, and all that mother earth jazz. While grain/lot fed beef is another abuser of fossil fuel, natural gas for fertilizers and oil for pesticides. But things get mightily complex and murky but fast with even tiny bit of secondary examination or googling. Contrary to the idyllic image of cows in pastures, grass feeding (if even close to similar beef production is maintained) would lead to mass deforestation, way above the mass pollution and land degradation already. Plus, the rumination byproduct methane burped out by grass fed cows are much greater, as in several times much greater, than from grain fed cows. Methane is considered a much more harmful contributor to global warming. So... what's someone making an environmental wager suppose to do? go toxic methane belching, expensive (again, id'be by several factors more so), healthier grass fed beef or go fossil fuel propelled, science engineered, affordable grain/lot fed beef?

Or is one's individual/city's/state's/nation's/continent's preference on this question enough of a difference maker to curb/correct global warming? Or what authority (moral, scientific, etc) is sufficient to coerce or persuade others to the same decision? Or does grass versus grain feeding even warrant serious, if not policy level, at least mass movement changes? If so, how certain is the benefit or cost of these changes? If so, how fair is it for certain groups, like the cow people, to bear the cost? And all this is just from a cursory thought exercising, if you forgive my indulgence and/or inaccuracies. But just taking the question a little further out points to how complicated and serious things can get.

And I'm far from saying to maintain the status quo or be paralyzed with inaction. Climate change is surely real, and the danger of it is clearly serious and real. I'ma just saying what a non starter it is to frame the global warming inquiry as "gambling" on catastrophic climate change, or finding only/net benefit in taking such a gamble. Or if Pascal's Wager is hole riddled to justify faith in (a) god, similar holes gap for legitimizing climate action.

And about the grass- v. grain-fed cow dilemma, as if I possibly could, I'll get back with the answer to this, don't worry.3

3. In this instance, I even might, for reals.

So anyway, the internet remains a glorious thing. I was visiting a forum, or blog, or however you wanna describe a website that allows folks to vigorously interact via posted comments, and some other visitors posted about a/the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I had no idea what the heck they were talking about, but hey, I didn't think too much of it at the time, because it was the web after all, who has spare time to google every weirdo tidbits that comes up? And who needs to know everything about everything? But it would be a testament on how terminally unhip I am. Later on, I guess while surfing to get a better grasp of the differing opinions on Pascal's Wager, which I'm gonna just shorten to PW going forward, cuz typing it and mentally "speaking" it in my head, that term really ain't too catchy, Flying Spaghetti Monster appeared again. At which time, I did Googled at last, and neato.4 Blasphemy aside, or a sign of fervent devotion? that perhaps explains my frequent pasta craving.

4. As you are e-reading, not too hard for ya to likewise Google, if you don't know and wanna know.

More recently, at the same site where I first came across Flying Spaghetti Monster, one of the dudes there used the term "shown throat." Which again, I hadn't the foggiest idea what it meant. This time, I wasn't the only one caught in the cloud of confusion, and another site visitor succinctly replied, "?" Though shown throat must be more broadly recognized as the next post, by someone other than the dude who originally used the term, explained it.5 Essentially some animals, like dogs for example, present their undefended vital as a sign of submission. Neat, again. Such an endless source of surprise/diversion, that internet thing.

5. "Amirite" was also something that I saw a bunch of e-people use, that I didn't know what it was, and wasn't compelled to figure its definition. Or at least until I eventually was compelled to figure it out.