Category Archives for Uncategorized

Technology’s Consequence Collides With Nature

I happened to look out of the window at around 6:30 this morning–just in time to see a huge contrail running from horizon to horizon. And then, of course, the sunrise hit it . . .

Whoa. Deep, Massive Whoa.

The photos below are followed by a video of the thing–marking, I think, the first time I’ve used that function on my iPhone. (The featured music is Brian Eno’s “Asteroid Dawn,” from Curiosities, Volume 2.)

The Disengagement Of "Teaching Moments"

Most smart people tend to feel queasy when the conversation turns to things like ‘certain death’ and ‘total failure’ and the idea of a ‘doomed generation,’ But not me. I am comfortable with these themes . .  . Any conversation that can make smart people confront a mix of Death, Doom and Failure with a straight face is probably worth listening in on.
–Hunter S Thompson

Earlier today the talking heads on MSNBC’s Morning Joe signaled that the Tucson shootings had–right on schedule–entered the uniquely American next stage that always follows a national panic attack: They sagely looked at each other and agreed, god willing, the tragedy would become a Teaching Moment. And, as always, that pissed me off.

Because in America, Teaching Moments are encoded shrugs; the equivalent of a national “Our bad.” Teaching Moments are about broadcasting, not receiving. Think back: In wake of a gut-wrenching national experience, no one ever talks about a Learning Moment–and for good reason. Because then the onus would be on all of us to actually do something about the gut-wrench du jour. Learning Moments, not Teaching Moments, are what lead to Change Pivots–and none of the contributing parties to the Tucson shootings want to (or will) go there.

I’m pretty much an unreconstructed cynic–for me, the glass is almost always half-filled–and, both sadly and tellingly, I’m rarely disappointed. Gloomy topics? Ha! Like Thompson, I’m comfortable with these themes. So allow me to make a grim inventory of those aspects of the Tucson shootings that will definitely not be Learning Moments:

Right-wing, violent rhetoric: After a short, muted period, it will ramp up again. Even as I write this, the status of the right-wing attack machine is obviously Battle Stations. And when the blame-deflecting talking points are not being spewed, people are either revising history (that sound is Sarah Palin scrubbing her website) or in hiding (Palin and the NRA). Squint at the broadcast horizon with me–do you really see a Kinder, Gentler Limbaugh? A Sadder-But-Wiser Beck? Sign-less and gun-less Tea Party gatherings? Neither do I. Nothing learned; nothing changed.

Gun laws: Arizona has some of the loosest gun laws in the nation. Guns in bars. Guns at school. Expanded assault-clips at Walmart. While Federal law enforcement agents have standard-issue 12-bullet clips, psychotic college kids are allowed to pack three times the ammo before they need to reload. What are the bets that Arizona’s deeply fucked-up self-image as 21st century frontiersmen is going to change? Do you really think that Jan Brewer–who further loosened many of the gun laws–is going to reverse herself? Calculating, empty-pant-suit Jan Brewer? Do you have any hope that the NRA (currently in hiding from the media) is going to have a lobbying change of heart? Neither do I. Nothing learned; nothing changed.

GOP obstructionism: When the federal ban on assault weapons ran out in 2004, the Senate passed a bill extending it, but the Republican-held House–wait for-it–never voted on it. Fast-foward six years to a period of Republican obstructionism that makes 2004 look like Haight Asbury in the late ’60s. Are Republicans going to take away from the Tea Party even a single class of guns? Do you any hope at all this will happen? Neither do I. Nothing learned; nothing changed.

Safety nets for the mentally ill: Look deeply into Jan Brewer’s callous eyes–she’s letting sane people who need heart transplants die, so what are the odds that there will be funding for the improved care of the emotionally disturbed? Over the next months, when state budgets across the country are slashed–when there is significantly less funding for everything from education to infrastructure–do you hold out hope that improved care for the mentally ill will occur? Neither do I. Nothing learned; nothing changed.

None of these things will be Learning Moments, much less Change Pivots. And privately, all of us realize this–politicians, voters and media talking heads. Thus, publicly hoping that the Tucson shootings will be a Teaching Moment isn’t just ineffective, it’s knee-jerk, with all the disengaged, pantomime caring found in “Have A Good Day.” 

Characterizing the Tucson shootings as a Teaching Moment gives all of us permission not to do anything more about it. It’s a way to feel concerned in the moment but in no way bothered with follow-through. In 12 months time, will MSNBC bump an hour of Lock-Up Raw for a special on whether Arizona’s gun laws have tightened up in wake of the shootings? Or for a look at the changes, if any, in the care of the emotionally unstable? And–damningly–would we watch these things a year from now? Nothing learned; nothing changed . . .

The last time I gave in to a full-blown political rant can be found here: http://bit.ly/b6Omii

Social-Obligation Apple Pie

For reasons now obscured by the gauziness of time, I wind up at a Feast of Seven Fishes each December 24th. (Always, I might add, seated next to the look-alike sister of a film star on whom I’ve had a decades-long crush. And no, don’t ask–it’s a murky Dante / Beatrice / Gemma sort of thing; darkly twisted psychology crossed with One-Degree-Of-Someone-More-Talented-Than-Kevin-Bacon.)

Anyway, this is the day I annually make my Social-Obligation Apple Pie–which is also increasingly known as Dub-Mix Apple Pie because over the years I’ve reduced the ingredients to six, and lately I’ve even decreased their amounts. While I’m certain that the final destination of this recipe is unavoidably a baked apple skewered on a cinnamon stick and sprinkled with brown sugar, I’m fighting the temptation because my yearly dining companion seems to like current iteration of the pie–and when she smiles, she looks exactly like her sister . . .

Socialobligatonapplepie_2

Metal Fabrication Is A Boy’s Best Friend

You know what I love? The powder-finshed, matte-black Incase slider that lovingly (and minimally) surrounds my iPhone 4. You know what I hate? Pulling off the bottom of that case to dock the phone. You know what I hate even more? Charging it on its back, straight from USB cable.

And so I went searching, because surely I wasn’t alone in my docking need. And, lo, I wasn’t. Except that this Other Guy seemed to be an engineer–an engineer with access to machine shops and power lathes. In short, this Other Guy was in a position to actually do something about the proper docking of an iPhone inside an Incase slider. (Did I mention it’s powder-finished, matte-black and Seriously Minimal? Did I also indicate my more-than-slightly perverse love for it?) 

It’s a week later, and here it sits on my desk–a dock carved out of a single piece of aircraft-grade aluminum, with–wait for it–an anodized black finish. (Steady on, there–steady–be still, my design-fetishist’s heart.) A dock that literally has been machine-tooled to fit my powder-finished, matte- . . . well, you know. And, best of all, when the phone is off, the goddamned thing looks like it’s waiting to be discovered on the Moon in a Kubrick film–which is indisputably good.

Made2dock

And now, because I knew you were going to ask (how could you not?), here’s a short video of the dock’s first phase of manufacture:

As Robert Duvall almost said once, ‘I love the sound of metal fabrication in the morning–it reminds me of victory . . .’

If There’s An Afterlife, This Is It

Locally, they’re just finishing rebroadcasting a remastered version of the 1987 “Roy Orbison: Black And White Night.” He was flanked by Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Costello, Tom Waits and T-Bone Burnett. The backing vocalists were Bonnie Raitt, KD Lang and Jennifer Warnes.

On the astronomically slim chance that there is a heaven, this is a breathtaking glimpse of it.

Feline Fringe

Ohhai2

This is basically like one of those trans-dimensional episodes of Fringe, but starring cats. 

In the battle for Laundry Day Lay-About Supremacy, my deeply eccentric roommates switched places no less than six times. And then, according to some obscure kitty calculus, it was suddenly So Two Minutes Ago, and they would no longer be caught dead participating in it . . .

Sorry, Bruce: A Better Shoulda / Coulda

I’ve been soldiering through Bruce Springsteen’s Darkness On The Edge Of Town box set for the last 24 hours, and I’m here to say there’s there much to love about the release–from its design to its sonics to its supplementary material. 

But one thing has been bothering me: In his liner notes, Springsteen notes that The Promise–the two discs of additional songs from the Darkness sessions–“. . . Could have / should have been released after Born To Run and before the collection of songs that Darkness On The Edge Of Town became.” Frankly, I don’t know if I’d have gone there if I were Springsteen–it forces the listener to assess The Promise not as a breathtaking collection of brilliant cast-offs, but as a retrofitted second act in a Born To Run / Promise / Darkness trilogy. But there it is, right there on page two of the package–an after-the-fact statement of Bruce Intent that unavoidable colors the additional songs . . .

The problem is that, as complied by Springsteen, The Promise in no way functions as a believable act two connecting Born To Run and Darkness OnThe Edge Of Town--it’s much too representative of the multiple futures that confronted him at the time. It feels more like the genius odds-and-sods collection that’s The Beatles’ White Album. Which is a very good thing, as long as that’s the context the artist wants it to be judged against–and, clearly, this isn’t what Springsteen wants.

And so I’ve been thinking about a different cut of the 21 songs that comprise The Promise that would better position it as a long-lost second act.

Here are my basic assumptions:

First, Act Two wouldn’t have been a double set–it is, after all, a trilogy, not a tetralogy.

Second, Act Two needs to bridge the full-on Spector sound of Born To Run and the starker sonics of Darkness. Similarly, it needs to clearly transform the romantic hope of Born To Run into the hopelessness of Darkness.

Third, Act Two should reflect the vinyl LP reality of the period in which it would have been released. This means a 38-minute to, say, a 42-minute running time that’s structurally divided into first and second sides–with each of those sides beginning with a radio-friendly, potential single.

Fourth, Act Two wouldn’t have been called The Promise–it’s much too quiet when stuck between dramatic titles like Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge Of Town. (This is also why no one ever refers to Star Wars as A New Hope.)

And so, with the same hubris that allowed me to “fix” The Beatles’ Let It Be, I carved out something called One Way Street from the musical yard sale that is The Promise.

One Way Street, the shoulda / coulda second act between Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge Of Town, is a nine-song collection structured thusly: 

Side One
1. “Rendezvous”
2. “Because The Night”
3. “Fire”
4. “Wrong Side Of The Street”
5. “One Way Street”

Side Two
6. “It’s A Shame”
7. “The Brokenhearted”
8. “Breakaway”
9. “The Promise”

Its total running time 38.1 minutes, which makes “act two” a minute shorter than Born To Run.

Am I saying that One Way Street completely works as the thematic and musical connective tissue between Born To Run and Darkness? Of course not. But I do maintain it’s contextually more successful than the 21 songs programmed as The Promise.

Again, I wouldn’t have ever suggested that The Promise was a shoulda / coulda “missing” album. But Springsteen did. And, well, something needs to be done in order for that statement to make sense. And, for me at least, One Way Street is it . . .