Missive From Morocco #4 – movie magic

IMG_5488Movie magic… it’s what keeps us seated in front of luminous screens, large and small, for countless hours on end.  When you’re behind the scenes of a large scale production like SpikeTV’s Tut, you can’t help but marvel at the Herculean group effort expended to transform whimsy and enchantment into visual reality.

IMG_5229When you’re in the thick of it, though, it can feel like the magic you’re trying to conjure might just as easily end in disaster.  There’s never enough time, and resources are always limited, but the train has left the station, and it’s picking up steam. The hundreds of artists and craftspeople and specialists on board have no other option but to steer this behemoth onward.

Recreating ancient Egypt in three months, as opposed to three thousand years, is a daunting challenge.  The Egyptians were prolific builders, and the scale of their creativity remains unrivaled. But watching our craftsmen and women at work, making larger than life monuments from pencils drawings, for example, is an impressive, albeit smaller scale feat.  It all begins with a sketch,

sphinx sketch

which is then manifested into a mini-model– with interchangeable heads.

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Horace head

After which, individual sections are cast into molds in an overpopulated, air-conditionless, hard labor workshop.

The pieces are then re-assembled into larger figures,

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carefully painted in multiple colors

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or simply in black.  A proper base is added, and the great mythological creatures finally find their place on set.

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It’s a similar process for the temple walls, which go from plain white plaster–

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to saturated, if not sacred, temple columns.

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These three deities, fresh from the workshop, wait hopefully behind a (non-velvet) rope for entry into the pharaoh’s  palace.

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Our FX department originates all kinds of narley creations.  Here a Mitanni soldier is literally bifurcated by an Egyptian Khopesh sword.  The dummy corpse weighs over 2o kilos and feels as real as it looks.  Someone pass the ketchup.

split soldier

The Props department stages every scene with multiple layers.  Everything is made from scratch in the studios in Ouzazarte.  It may look old and weathered but it was brand new a few days ago, and then painstakingly aged by hand.  From the village vendor stalls

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to kiln blown clay cups

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to real papyrus military maps

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and the ancient instruments appearing in our beer hall scenes. The Egyptian culture boasts many innovations and inventions, but beer may be the greatest of all.

prop guitar

Hair, Make-up, and Wardrobe departments adorn every extra with the care of a featured actor.  Their deep design philosophy insists on an attention to detail no matter how far one is from the camera.

kids in costume

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The ladies above sport various wig styles, sketched here–

hair sketches

and brought to life soon after.

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Their inventory alone  takes up one wall of the studio.

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A caravan of equipment trucks transports it all, along with lights, c-stands, reflectors and cables, over the mountains and through woods– I mean, desert.

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It all gets set up on location in an effort to make the magic happen.  The most gripping sequences in any film or Tv show puts the viewer right into the middle of the action.  A moving camera will insight all kinds of emotions, like the tension derived from an intentionally shaky handheld shot.

Camera rig

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Or the moment-of-awareness felt from a fast push-in on dolly tracks.

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For adrenaline filled intensity, we call in the Scorpion, a state-of-the-art, ten cylinder, budget-stretching camera car responsible for the more heart-racing sequences in Tut.  It crisscrosses in front of our horse-pulled chariots, sails above our angry crowd scenes, and fearlessly extends into the hairiest of battle choreography.

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Scorpion car

His big brother pick-up truck is no slouch either.

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The spectacular stunts these camera cars capture are laboriously rehearsed long beforehand, often to the point of exhaustion.  Safety and accuracy are priorities, but so is realism.  If it looks too rehearsed, or too safe, it ends up on the cutting room floor.  The build up to the actual stunt, sans sound and visual effects, can be somewhat anti-climactic.

Or flat out chaos.

The dramatic rule of thumb is to save the best for last, which in this case, is an explosion. Explosions are a special pleasure for the inner pyro in all of us.  They’re expensive and difficult  to pull-off effectively as there are a limited number of chances to capture the effect with everything timed properly.  Pressure builds exponentially during the preparation, preparation, preparation… and then–

It’s the perfect metaphor for all of the efforts these behind-the-scenes magicians put in each day.  We’re in the proverbial Moroccan soup over here, unsure of what the final result will be, but the fuse has been lit and we’re expecting the bang to be a big one.

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Missive From Morocco #3 – tug of war

HorusEye2One of the most evocative symbols in hieroglyphics is the Eye of Horace, god of the pharaohs, often depicted as a human with a falcon head, which is a nice head to have if you’re an ancient deity.  Far more preferable than dog-headed Anubis, or crocodile-faced Sobek.horus540

Horace was the fortunate son of Osiris and Isis until his bastard uncle, Set, god of the desert, storms and chaos, murdered his brother, Osiris, leaving divine sovereignty up for grabs. Horus had no choice but to engage his uncle in an all out brawl for power.  Let the game of thrones begin.

Cruz-UribeLecture011Set, whose head is an unfortunate cross between a jackass and an aardvark, loses a testicle in the fight, which is why the desert is infertile.  Horus loses his left eye, but he ends up winning the day and the throne, making him King of all the living.  His eye is magically regenerated, and the image takes its place in the Egyptian pantheon as a symbol of protection, sacrifice, healing and regeneration.

All timely virtues, especially in lieu of recent terrorist events in Algeria.

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Algeria is Morocco’s more turbulent, less tractable neighbor, and the country is still reeling after the beheading of French tourist Herve Gourdel. “Heinous, cowardly, criminal, despicable,” are the words being bandied about after the latest ISIS offensive.  Our production’s stalwart security detail has assured us that our scenario 600 miles away in Ourzazate is far safer.  But beneath the calm reassurances, one senses an escalation from DEFCON 5 to 4.

decap headsThe unfortunate, and thoroughly un-ironic coincidence, is that our props department has used the very same words– cowardly, criminal, despicable– to describe Moroccan customs, who have refused to release the silicon decapitated heads we spent thousands of pounds creating in London for the show.  We’ve already shot a scene without them that we’ll have to CGI in post. This is how productions go over budget.

It seems utterly irrelevant considering the reality of events in Algeria, and perfectly understandable given the graveness of the act, and yet, the show must go on.  One of the better ways to battle such extremist irrationality is through art.

blank heads

Our fake heads aren’t the only things being withheld by customs either.  Nor are we the only production here being extorted to get our property back.  It’s a common maneuver in these parts– almost as common as the long tradition of beheading– and a reliable revenue stream for the officials in charge. This is a land where competition for resources has always been cutthroat.  Get whatever you can, whenever you can. Intimidate the enemy. Show ‘em you mean business. Take their heads off if you have to.

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For thousands of years, Northern Africa was a region of warring tribes.  The Berbers and Bedouin dominated, often battling each other for access to natural resources.  When one tribe damned a river upstream, the other attacked to smash it down.  The tribes were fiercely independent and proudly self-reliant… until the infidels arrived. That’s when everything started changing.  That’s when the real threat to lifestyle and culture happened.

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The soil in Morocco has always been mineral rich, and it wasn’t long before French, Spanish, Italian and German colonials were competing to cultivate it, always with an eye towards enhancing markets back home.  These visitors were not here to share.  They wanted to take it all for themselves, as foreigners will. Forgetting, all too easily, that the context from which these things are ripped is precicely what gives them their value.

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The French achieved a commanding foothold prior to the first World War, exploiting the land for fruit, vegetables and vineyards.  Thousands emigrated, pressuring Paris to tighten its grip in order to protect their newly planted interests.  As the capital complied, the Berbers fled into the mountains, refusing the occupation.  But other tribes embraced the French new wave, happy to fill the power vacuum.  In return for their cooperation, the French modernized the agricultural and transportation sectors– upgrades Morocco still benefits from today.

1101570422_400The tipping point came when the French unwisely exiled Sultan Mohammed V to Madagascar in 1953 and replaced him with their puppet, Mohammed Ben Aarafa.  The maneuver had the opposite of the intended effect, uniting the warring tribes who suddenly saw their religion threatened.  Protests occurred.  Violence rose.  Expats panicked their investments were exposed.  The Sultan’s return was demanded and the French had no choice but to reinstate Mohammed V.  But the tides had already turned, and shortly thereafter in 1956, Morocco won its independence.  They’ve been autonomous ever since, and have miraculously ingratiated the French influence with little resentment.

workersNo film production could succeed in Ourzazate without the predominantly French speaking workforce that calls this city of 200k home.  For Spike TV’s maiden series Tut, some five hundred craftsmen and women arrive daily at the gates of Atlas Studios to hammer nails, plaster statues, weave palms, sew fabric, paint sets and smith metal, all without the use of power tools.  There isn’t a nail gun in the entire city.  The work day is roughly twelve hours long.  Compensation is 150 Dirham, about $18.

IMG_5464Compensation notwithstanding, the plaster and paint departments work some serious movie magic creating these ancient Egyptian sets.  You’d never in three thousand years know that the majority of these locations are merely a mix of lime, sand and water, because when our hi-def Alexa cameras pan across them, they look more real thing than the real thing.  This is post-post-modern antiquity at its very best. Baudrillard would be proud.

Ait Ben Haddu Marocco

And that’s not to take away from our killer locations.  We shoot this week in the iconic, pre-Saharan habitat of Ait-Ben-Haddou.  The earthen abodes crowded together along the southern slope of the Atlas mountains were a trading post on the commercial route linking ancient Sudan to Marrakech by the Tizi-n’Telouet Pass.  Say that six times quickly.

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This particular village, known as a Ksar, was built in the 17th Century, but the architectural technique is hundreds of years older.  It differs from the fortress-like Kasbah, which is always comprised of four towers and an open center.  A Ksar is more a collection of family dwellings, with a mosque, a public square, and grain threshing areas, for the threshing of grains, of course.

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But the inhabitants of Ait-Ben-Haddou weren’t without their concerns for protection.  The entire settlement exists behind large defensive walls, which are reinforced by angle towers and zigzagging gates. Their daily prayers for safety and healing were to Allah by this time, but you can be sure Horace wasn’t far off, hovering above, shedding grace from his aerie, his protective eye preserving the sacred Maghreb, just as he does now… for us.  In return, we’ll further immortalize his extraordinary story, and for a global television viewership, no less.

We’re going to need your help when this thing airs next July.  If ratings aren’t high, we could easily incur the deity’s wrath…

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Missive From Morocco #2 – allies & enemies

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5:30 am and I’m ferreting in the dark for a snooze button. My alarm is weaker than usual.  Maybe I forgot to kick the volume up before I hit the sack.  What’s more perplexing is when I changed my wake-up song?  The I realize that the tune isn’t coming from my phone… It’s coming from the towering minaret a mile away in the center of town.

This is the days first Call to Prayer, otherwise known as Adhan, and it blankets the city like the morning fog I’m still in.  Five times a day, every day, a muezzin sings from the holy Koran, reminding the faithful that there is no other god but Allah.  The melodic drone echoes through the streets just before dawn, again around noon, in the late afternoon, right after sunset, and lastly at nightfall. Allahoakbar If it seems foreign at first, it doesn’t take long to find comfort in the ritual.  There’s an austerity to the spiritual history here, a modesty that no individual is too busy or too important to kneel, wherever he may find himself, and touch his head to the floor.

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The Tut production could use a prayer today.  It’s the first of two massive battle sequences, and coordinating a 1000 some-odd bodies with precision will be mandatory for pulling it off.  800 extras dressed in Egyptian and Mitanni garb are preparing to clash on the plains of our location at Fint Oasis in Morocco’s panoramic Atlas mountains.

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The logistics of managing this many extras, in addition to 80 stuntmen and our central cast and crew of 50, are dizzying.  There are 100 fixers on set just to look after these people, making sure they’re transported, hydrated, fed, have access to bathrooms, and eventually get their pay envelopes.  Roughly $20 for a thirteen plus hour day in ninety degree heat.  A quick survey reveals around around 200 Mohammeds, 100 Youssefs, 73 Amins and at least 50 Husseins.  By the time they’re all wrangled, the 2nd Unit will only have a few hours to rehearse and shoot.  It’s barely organize chaos.

Arrow in chest

Costume, hair and make-up have been on set since 3 am, preparing the masses for the day’s bloody cut-and-thrust. Long haired wigs for the Mitanni, headdresses and eye make-up for the Egyptians, full leather armor for both.  Throngs of soldiers on both sides wander about already wounded, waiting for the fun to begin.  One Mitanni footman enjoys a breakfast of eggs and beans with an arrow protruding from his chest.

Yuya in costumeMy own costume, hair and make up only takes about 30 minutes.  I have two layers of robes, a heavy leather vest, thick leather shin and arm pads, and boots that our costume department built around a running shoe for comfort.  But for others applying wigs, fake beards, and detailed special effects wounds, make-up can easily exceed three hours.

In reality, all the armor we’re donning is a bit of creative license. Historians have discovered papyrus rolls revealing agreements between the Egyptians and their enemies not to go to war in the summer. 

NubianWhen they eventually did fight, almost no armor was worn– it’s just too hot and too cumbersome to be effective in the desert.  This slain Nubian warrior, an ally of Egyptian forces against the Mitanni, is dressed much more realistically for fighting in 100 degree heat.

It’s now 6 am, thirty kilometers outside Ouzazarte, and the sun is backlighting the jagged mountain range.  It’s a postcard location, and only when you’re right smack in the middle of it can you marvel at what a miracle an oasis actually is.  You’re almost entirely surrounded by rock and sand, when a strip of plush vegetation explodes to life, seemingly out of nowhere.

Ffint oasisor some reason, geography has allowed an aquifer to survive here for thousands of years, most likely because there’s a substrata of impermeable rock that keeps the water from sinking deeper into the ground.  It accumulates and percolates to the surface, where a world of vegetation, animals, and humans gratefully build a civilization around it… And eventually make movies films about that very human history.

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The sun has cleared the mountain.  We’re getting close to to the start of shooting.  But before “action” can be yelled, the production’s wily Snake Wrangler scours the terrain for the sundry reptiles, arachnids and other predatory arthropods that can cause serious harm and death.  Today he hits a triple, first discovering a three-foot black hooded Cobra behind one of the tents.  He grabs it with his bare hands, shows it off to gaggle of dumbfounded crew, and then proceeds to kiss the highly venomous serpent on its head.  We later learn it will be sold to a snake charming act in Marrakech for 600 Dirham, or about $70.

photo 1An hour later, the same wrangler proudly exhibits a new acquisition: a scorpion the size of langoustine.  Another gaggle of slack-jawed onlookers snap pictures, only to be upstaged when the wrangler literally shoves the creature into his mouth.  He spits it back out with a toothless smile and jams it into a large water bottle, telling us without the slightest tinge of irony that he’s been bitten so many times he’s basically immune.

camel spiderLater in the day, he snags his final treasure, a camel spider the size of an infant’s hand.  The biggest ones can grow up to eight inches in length, including the legs.  I try not to look at any of these creepy crawlers, knowing if I do they’ll soon be flittering through the coils of my unconscious, but curiosity gets the best of me, just as it does the camel who warns us of the spider’s presence.  Camels have a reputation for being ornery, but this particular even-toed ungulate is anything but happy about his six legged visitor, and he’s unafraid to announce it.

Alex and DVAAnd then it finally happens, our fearless director, David Von Ancken, finally shouts the days first ACTION and the epic battle commences.  Egyptians and Mitanni hack away at one another, firing arrows, throwing knives, swinging swords and shields.  Fake deaths are dramatically enacted, and real injuries are unfolding left and right.

The Atlas mountains are a mix of volcanic basalt, shale, and limestone.  It comes apart easily under your feet, so twisted ankles, battered knees and elbows, and lacerations abound.  Our Moroccan set doctor diligently attends to the wounded in his medical tent… while chain smoking, bless his heart.

Mitanni I killMe and the four Mitanni I bravely dispose of somehow make it through our combat choreography unscathed.  We’re covered in fake blood, a mix of corn syrup and food coloring– spurted generously by the F/X department from what looks like a fire extinguisher– and the fruit flies are starting to invite their friends and relatives to the party.  Fruit flies and Morocco, an inseparable team, the best of freinds, they should be on the countries flag.

It’s close to wrapping time.  It’s been a long day, especially in the 30 knot winds that kick up consistently between 2 and 6 pm.  They whip the sand into your skin at stinging speeds.  There’s no escaping it.  The bigger issue is in the sound department. It’s nearly impossible to record clean dialogue in these relentless gales.  Looks like we’re coming back here tomorrow morning to finish out the scene sans the wind.  Joy…

As the cast pulls back into the Berbere Palace hotel, covered in sweat, dust, crusty make-up, sugar blood and happily headed for a life altering dip in the pool, another call to prayer sings out across the scantily clouded sky.  Day 14 of 73 is over, thank Allah.  Tomorrow is another 5:30 call…

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Missive From Morocco #1 – the adventure begins

Screen Shot 2014-09-05 at 12.36.13 AMWeek one of working on Tut, Spike TV’s maiden drama series, directed by David Von Ancken and starring Sir Ben Kingsley.  I’m playing a general in King Tut’s army and I’ve been knee deep in rehearsals since touching down in Morocco at the end of August.

Dany-Dragon-Wallpaper-game-of-thrones-dragons-34476263-1920-1080The show is shooting in the picturesque town of Ourzazate.  It may sound like exotic North Africa, but you probably know it better than you think.  If you’ve ever seen Lawrence of Arabia, Gladiator, Patton, Last Temptation of Christ, Alexander, Babel or Game of Thrones, among myriad other films, than you’ve gotten a taste of magical Ourzazate.

LegionaireThe French Foreign Legion marked the area as a strategic base along the route between the mountains and the desert, and built their first garrison here in 1928. It was a tranquil outpost: “Ourzazate” translates to “No Noise” in Berber, an ethnicity indigenous to the Northern Nile Valley.

James Dean

But by the 1960’s, a steady of influx of film production from Europe and the US were rockin’ the proverbial Kasbahs, and Sharif does like it, ‘cause it’s been a steadily expanding income stream ever since.  In addition to Tut, five other big-budget features are presently taking advantage of the breathtaking Atlas mountains, lake El Mansour, and the wide variety of sun burnt, sand swept medinas, including Ridley Scott’s Exodus, Aladin, A.D., Killing Jesus, and Mission Impossible 5.  I have yet to see Tom Cruise, but I’ll be sure to recommend swapping Scientology for Allah when I do…

Screen Shot 2014-09-07 at 9.09.37 AMA great deal of King Tut’s history was erased by the envious Pharaohs who succeeded him. Respect for political predecessors hasn’t changed much in 3000 years, and as a result, his true story has been literally buried in the sands of time.  But his nearly fully intact tomb, discovered in 1922 by Howard Carter and George Herbert, has revealed enough to piece together an inherently dramatic narrative.  A boy king thrust into power at 8 years old.  An arranged marriage to his sister, Ankhe.  An advisor, Aye, with Iago-like ulterior motives, and a greedy priest class consolidating power in an attempt to out maneuver the boy king.

ancient egyptian militaryThe Egyptians had multifarious enemies during their three dynasties: Nubians, Hittites, Assyrians, Hyskos, and during Tut’s reign at the height of the 18th dynasty (1332–1323 BC), the Mitanni.  The Mitanni bested the Egyptians in early battles, attacking with powerful chariots the likes of which Egypt had never seen before.  But the rulers of the Nile Delta were quick learners, and before long they had built chariots of their own that were smaller, lighter and faster.  They eventually defeated the Mitanni and dominated the next millennia until facing another boy/God conqueror, Alexander the Great.

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There’s no better way to learn this history than preparing for a role. We’re not just reading about it all, we’re actually reenacting it.  Week one of fight training included work with Kopesh swords, archery with recurve bows, and chariot riding– the most challenging element to date.  No shocks on these equine-powered bi-wheelers, so your knees and lower back feel every rocky blow.

ChariotSome of the horses– studs flown in from southern Spain for the shoot– aren’t keen on pulling the heavy carts, and they buck and kick.  Maybe if production had popped for business class they’d be in better moods?  Either way, trying to thread a bow while bouncing around in one of these shaky ancient machines is borderline comical.  Firing an arrow off at full gallop with any accuracy whatsoever is nearly impossible.  I’ve formed an entirely new respect for just how skilled these historical warriors were in defending their civilization.

Our fight training is orchestrated by an impressive array  former special forces badasses and stuntmen from France, England, Spain, and Romania.  Many have settled in Morocco because of the near continuous film production, mastering everything from complex horse stunts to thousand-man battle choreography.  Others were born and raised here and have become seasoned film talent purely by being in the right place at the right time.

They’re modern day warriors, showing little fatigue during the ten hour days in hundred plus degree heat. While the cast is downing liters of Emergen-C spiked water, most of the stunt crew are burning through Marlboro Reds, frequently one off the other.

Mitani soldiersThe steady flow of dedicated Moroccan stuntmen is equally inspiring.  They slaughter and are slaughtered day after day, week after week, in film after film after film.  No CGI filling in here. These are real dudes crashing into each other, flying off of chariots, falling from roof tops, taking swords to chest, arrows to the back, and spears to the throat.  They show up two hours before the cast does, just after the day’s first Call to Prayer, to begin rehearsals.

Column close upOverall, the project boasts a collective of artisans from eighteen different countries, all congregating to make this artistic Giza a reality.  Producers from Montreal, London, New York and Los Angeles. Thesbians from Australia, London, Vancouver, LA, NYC, Marrakesh, Fez, and Tangier.  A costume department almost exclusively from Rome.  Hair and Make-Up from the UK.  Camera team from Capetown.  And a security team headed by former New Zealand and England SAS military, some fresh from Donetsk, Ukraine.  There are five hundred plus carpenters, plasterers, painters, sewers, metallurgists, leatherworkers, camel wranglers and cooks laboring from sunrise to sunset.

Tagine rowLocal Moroccan fair almost never disappoints.  Lamb, chicken and fish tagines, lentils in every way imaginable, smoky or sweet eggplant and zucchini spreads, couscous, saffron rice, green olives, tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers, red mullets, calamari and the bevy of spices we’ve come to crave the world wide like ginger, paprika, cinnamon, cumin, anise and sesame seeds.  If the French left any legacy, it’s the coveted skill wine making.  The local vintages taste like their straight from Cote du Rhone.

Lou Reed put it best when he sang, “It’s the beginning of a great adventure.” There’s so much more to explore… I’m looking forward to being out of the western news loop for the next few months.  Don’t think I’ll miss it much.  I did, however, whack my back out a bit during a three-Mitanni-kill-combo this morning.  Anyone out here know a good Cairo-practor?

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The Dope on Dope

yes-we-cannabisSo it’s official: The New York Times editorial board has wholeheartedly endorsed the legalization of marijuana.  Stop the presses.  Break out the herb grinder and prepare to add a little more vaporization to the NYC summer humidity.  Our bastion of “liberal” opinions has finally gotten a whiff of the sweetleaf wafting around every corner from “Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten, from the The Battery to the Top of Manhattan.”

mLwVckOTFObqmqz-556x313-noPad“We reached that conclusion after a great deal of discussion” –Um, four decades worth?– “among the members of The Times’ Editorial Board,” –most of whom were high through college and journalism school– “inspired by a rapidly growing movement among the states” –well, two, at least– “to reform marijuana laws.” –Or start profiting heavily from them.Legalized-Cannabis

Serious profits are already being made from this miraculous plant.  But astoundingly, only 6% of government funded studies published even bothered to explore its medical benefits.  Until recently, that is.

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The list of ailments cured by this 100 percent natural resource continues to expand.  Who would have guessed that something which flourishes into sweet smelling buds with the aid of water and sunlight would have the power to slow cancer, decrease anxiety, settle indigestion, deter Alzheimer’s, inhibit seizures, ease the pain of Multiple Sclerosis, lessen the side effects of hepatitis C, relieve arthritis, reduce nausea from chemotherapy, help metabolism, alleviate PTSD, eliminate Crohns disease, improve the symptoms of Lupus, and most importantly, increase the propensity for laughter in repetitively unfunny Will Ferrell movies.

fig,white,mens,ffffffIt’s still illegal in 47 states because we haven’t destroyed enough lives with outrageously unjust jail sentences, or in some cases, life without parole.  For smoking pot.  You’d be treated with more leniency if you downed a bottle of bourbon, stole a police car and drove head on into a precinct. Or sold banned Chinese weapons to the Afghani Army for millions in profit while snorting coke at strip clubs in Miami. With a decent lawyer, you’d be looking at about seven months house arrest. But if you’re caught with a few ounces of pot, you’re going down, possibly for the rest of your life.

mjmjlegalizationLess than five years ago, a friend and I were in a bar, working on a story.  Ideas were fast firing and though we were each sipping a beer, it was the puff we took before we entered that had us manifesting on a higher plane.  If alcohol is a social lubricant, the proverbial ex-lax for truth, then pot is most definitely a mental one.  It oils an entirely different set of cerebral hinges than liquor does. It let’s you think outside of thinking outside of the box.

Not surprisingly, a group of drunk wanna-be Wall Streeters were threatened by the creative energy pulsating from our corner booth, and after shots of something resembling castor oil, one of them stumbled over and asked, “How do you bring a laptop into a bar on a Friday night?”  My friend, poet and general wordsmith extraordinaire didn’t waste many on the drooling lush.  He simply said, “The front door?”

DSC00896That led to epithets from the cheaply suited dipshit, which is apropos for someone doing Jaeger shots at 8pm.  Alcohol makes most people progressively duller, and significantly quicker to act on asinine impulses.  How often do you hear about sexual misconduct at a fraternity starting with a group of football players sharing a joint?  It’s almost exclusively booze that fuels the aggression.  That’s the nature of the poison. Mixed with testosterone it’s even more pernicious.

3011Fortunately, I had a real NYPD police badge from a role I just did in an indie film.  I locked eyes with a laser glare, and said, “Walk away, asshole.”  The dude turned white and obeyed. Had he not been 6 beers and two shots into his night, he might’ve noticed it was a 1980’s Transit Police badge.  Had I flashed that to a stoned person, they’d probably have looked at it longer, or maybe asked for the tactile pleasure of running their fingers over its golden spires… Because pot, more than anything else, makes you curious.

urlSo it’s strange that people continue to portray alcohol as the more social drug.  In all my experiences, I’ve never seen a single person start a fight in a bar when really high.  Or resist arrest.  Or crash a car.  Or vomit at a concert.  Or piss in public.  Or pass out in the street…  No need for a smoke responsibly campaign, since stoners don’t fuck up like drunks do.  I propose we start offering classes on how to get high. Start with a puff, enjoy the world.

Declaring war on marijuana is like declaring war on fascinating conversations.  Locking people away for it is arbitrary at best, totalitarian at worst.  It’s punishment for a crime that more often than not, has no victim, or consequences.

o-MARIJUANA-ARRESTS-facebookThe sad irony is that later that week, my creative friend was arrested for smoking a joint on a bench in a park.  He was cuffed and hauled to a holding cell under City Hall, where he was forced to stay the night since the courts were closed.  Had it been a Friday, he’d have been stuck till Monday morning.  Three nights and three days, funded by taxpayer money, for choosing to relax by smoking instead of imbibing.  It’s truly absurd.Zuccotti-Park-Occupy-Wall-007

Almost as absurd as seeing the NYPD drag a kid away from Zuccotti Park during the Occupation for smoking a joint that was passed to him at exactly the wrong time. Luckily, he took a hit before being publicly humiliated and treated like the vicious threat he wasn’t.

Wall-Street-bonusesMeanwhile, in the glass towers hundreds of feet above him, scotch drinking white collars continued looting millions upon millions upon millions in plain sight without so much as a single indictment.

So welcome to the par-tay New York Times editorial board.  Maybe you’ll put your money where your endlessly chattering mouths are and stop testing your writers for pot.  What they do away from work is none of your business.  Maybe a decade from now this ludicrous, costly, harmful, wasteful, useless, antiquated prohibition will actually be repealed and you won’t have to worry about looking like hypocrites.  You can bet we’ll all toast to you when it happens…

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Small Swigs From The World Cup

brazil-world-cup-2014-wallpaper_1402864883The World Cup intensifies, bringing the planet earth together to witness what our host nation so elegantly calls fu-chee-bol. It’s been a rewarding tournament, but in a perfect world, a few things would be different this year in Brazil.

bribeBUYING FIFA: FIFA has many proud traditions but none is more time honored than their propensity for accepting bribes. The organization shows prejudice to no currency, accepting hundreds of millions of (insert currency here) over the years. All kinds of figures are flying on how much Qatar greased FIFA for the 2022 Cup. Rumor has it that these sheiks have rooms of cash, literally. Enough to buy a global phenomenon and host it in a dessert.  It’ll be like beach soccer, but without the ocean.

fifa-movieNOW PLAYING, SEPP BLATHER? Show FIFA president Sepp Blather’s face on a screen in any stadium and you’ll feel the rain of universal boos. Squandering $30 million from FIFA’s coffers to produce a bio-pic about himself hurt more than helped. The movie billed itself as the story of “a group of passionate European mavericks that join forces on an ambitious project: the Fédération Internationale de Football Association.” Critics at Cannes panned it for lacking drama. Might we suggest a better use of funds? Hire a few more refs to cover that massive field.

World_Cup_RefereesREFEREE!  A two hundred foot hockey rink is patrolled by two refs and two linesmen. Additional officials in Toronto evaluate every goal and penalty in real time. An American Football field is one hundred yards long and at times it looks like there are more refs on the field than players. The results in both leagues are mostly excellent officiating.

Switzerland FIFA Goal Line TechnologyBut an international soccer field– one hundred and twenty yards long and eighty wide– has only one ref and two linesmen. No wonder they’ve blown so many high stakes calls. Too many to count over the years it’s. Last World Cup, Frank Lampard of England took a shot that hit the crossbar, pinged down across the goal line, and was punched out by the German goalie.

fansThousands of screaming fans saw it live and celebrated. But the ref, thirty yards away, waved on the play– no goal. When England protested, he postured like only a soccer ref can, refusing to brook objection. Fifty million viewers world-wide watched multiple replays of the obvious goal. The game ended. England was knocked out. Luddite FIFA looked incompetent.

There’s a long history of ill credited calls or lack there of, but the Lampard goal was so egregious that after years of the French equivalent to hemming and hawing, FIFA had no choice but to install the technology professional tennis has been using since 2006.

Side note: It’s rumored that Sepp Blather’s next laptop computer will have something called “interweb access,” allowing him to stream his movie via the world wide interweb.

image6-578x395DIVING: No other sport deals with such a humiliating blemish as soccer’s faux injuries. It devalues the game, and the FIFA brand, beyond repair and it’s all the ammunition any anti-soccer fan ever needs.

“Don’t they know we’re all watching in hi-def, slo-mo, multi-angle close-ups?” I heard a green fan exclaim. “Aren’t they ashamed?”

cl_dani_alves_pi_rf_050311_20110503131052939_660_320A legitimate question. When you’re clipped on the left shin, don’t roll around on the ground holding your right. The infamous Robben, of the Netherlands, consistently falls before contact. Mexico was knocked out after his third flop. An Argentinian player was pushed in the upper part of his back and proceeded to drop and roll as if struck by an appendicitis. Miraculously, he recovered in time to take the free kick.

gallery_d3Then there’s the player who fakes it and stays down at the expense of a counter attack. Your opponent’s sprinting up-field with a man advantage. You didn’t get the call. GET BACK INTO THE PLAY!

THE RULES: Article 57 of FIFA’s disciplinary code state that a player “who violates the principles of fair play or whose behavior is unsporting in any other way may be subject to sanctions.” But sanctions are rarely exercised. It’s time the rule be re-written with a bit more bite. “Any player who throws himself onto the pitch with amatuer theatricality and howls like a wounded seal when not really injured, will be publicly beaten in a way that will make him wish he actually was.”ts,482x482,silver,mens,ffffff

VIRAL FLOPPING: When diving showed signs of going viral during the Stanley Cup Finals this year, the NHL crushed it like a cucaracha by calling “embellishment” penalties. The flopper went to the box and felt shame. The manliest of sports handled cowardice with impunity. What would happen if NFL players start faking it for calls? What would happen if all of us started flopping. You’re in a restaurant, a waiter brushes past you. Fall and grab your ankle. Cringe up your face and grind your teeth. When the owner offers you a free drink, rise, shake his hand, and say, “How about a round for the table?”

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As far as FIFA is concerned? Come on fellas! The cameras are already rolling. Why not use ‘em for replays on all questionable calls? Why allow the fate of a team, and a nation, to be decided any other way? Determining the legitimacy of a call would be worth the break in action, and players would stop diving if refs awarded a penalty kick the other way. The game is already stopping for fakers. Now stop it for a review. Especially when we can pan the guilty party.

Side note: Killer write up on All-Star flopper from Slate.

130313151202-referee-abuse-tease-2-horizontal-galleryFBL-WC-2014-MATCH13-GER-PORCROWDING: It’s not uncommon to see a ref besieged by players after a controversial call. Five, six, seven players impinging, whining, gesturing, even shoving. He has to back peddle himself to safety. You worry for the man with the whistle. Either punish that behavior, harshly, or give the ref a hip holster of pepper spray so the man can defend himself.

gty_giorgio_chiellini_bite_FIFA_2014_soccer_jc_140624_4x3_992BITING: Let’s make it an official part of the game. You can’t use your hands, so why not your teeth, tongues and lips? It would add an entirely new subtext to the game, provide tantalizing close-ups for fans, and spice up post-game analysis. Suarez is already teaching youth how to do it properly during his summer camp. He has a four months off to perfect his method.

IT AIN’T OVER TIL IT’S OVER: Diving is as un-American as giving up before the Fat Lady sings. When the USA is down (or tied, in the case of Ghana), you see a concentrated offensive push in the final minutes of the match. Some European teams who do it, like Portugal did to the US, but it doesn’t seem to have the same level of desperation, and it definitely doesn’t stop them from diving and splaying about instead of sprinting back into play.

Dejected RooneyEngland looked utterly resigned with 30 minutes left against Italy. They were only down a goal but they milled around, passed backwards more than forwards, and jogged casually to throw-ins. Same with the Greeks versus Costa Rica when they only had 10 men. They just didn’t pump up the volume and ended up losing in a shoot-out. Thousands of plates weren’t broken triumphantly as a result.

RVP1Play hard till the final whistle! And harder still if you’re losing! Blow your brains out trying to make something happen! Throw every last strand of DNA into it! It makes for the kind of undeniable drama you don’t have to fake. You’re getting paid ludicrous amounts of money for a 90 minute work day with big ass bonuses for winning the whole shabang. Yes, World Cup athletes are not just playing for their homelands. There’s a sizable paycheck. So make the extra effort. Especially at the end!

fifa-substitute-940-100703-8colEXTRA TIME: Here’s another soccer oddity we should incorporate into our daily lives. Say you’re waiting for a table at a busy restaurant. The four top in the corner already paid the bill but they’re lingering. Clearly, they’re in extra time. An official should stand by their table with a digital board reading “3” in bright red lights. When time’s up, a whistle blows three times and fervent gestures are made toward the door.

140609_soccer_shoes_lgFLUORESCENT BOOTS: So many respected athletes said “yes” to endorsements having no idea they’d be mailed lightning yellow or hot pink cleats, upholding the truism that you never get what you don’t pay for. Let’s hope the trend of wearing two different colored boots goes the way of the vuvuzela. Both are annoyingly loud and totally unnecessary.

wcup-tattoo-10_2941117kTATTOOS: Lets go all the way for World Cup 2018: you’re forbidden to play if you have any natural skin color showing whatsoever.

BRAZILIAN FANS: Bless their incessant jubilation regardless of which teams are playing. They dance and chant and undulate while scantily clad, along side the Belgians or Morrocans or Australians. They just love their fu-chee-bol that much.

But their commitment to euphoria might be greater. As we saw in the last World Cup, even when they lose, the party still goes off. It’s a quality we should all emulate. Our children would grow up better people knowing that win or lose, after the game, they’re going to fry plantains, pound capirinias and have three ways sans pubic hair to pulsating samba music.

17r36y0g4vc56jpgJACK WHITE: The guy can write a lick, but did he have any idea that millions of people populating multiple countries would be shouting the first seven notes of “Seven Nation Army” to rev themselves up in the stands? And how many of them have ever been to Wichita?

full-face-usa-world-cup-flag-tattoo-painting-for-fans-f559444U.S.A.: If possible, we should score in the first 30 seconds of all games. Also, we should prevent goals against in the final seconds of extra time by not thinking the ref’s going to blow the whistle even though the world’s greatest player has the ball on the far wing…

captain-phillips-barkhad-abdiSide note: It’s nice to see Demarcus Beasley back on the team after filming Captain Phillips with Tom Hanks, isn’t it?

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THE TROPHY: For a game that involves so many different countries, and boasts the most fans of any sport, the World Cup Trophy feels a little puny. Then again, every trophy seems puny compared to the NHL’s Stanley Cup. The only trophy in sports that will continue to get bigger as they add more rings to include the names of the victors. The World Cup trophy could use a steroid or two. No one should be able to hold it up with one hand.

dt.common.streams.StreamServerSAY WHAT? A Bosnia-Hertzegovenian and an Iranian are battling on the soccer pitch (this is not the beginning of a joke). The whistle blows but the skirmish escalates after the play. A shouting match ensues in each others faces. A South African ref steps in and issues warnings. Fellow teammates rapidly descend to argue their cases. The question is: what the hell language are they all speaking? Does anyone understand anything being said?

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The answer, of course, is yes. The language is universal when it’s futbol. The beautiful game. The most popular sport in the world… save a future few improvements.

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Streaming Burnout

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For those out there yet to hop on the Burnout Bandwagon, just a quick “alert” to let you know there’s almost no room left. Everyone’s knee deep in it, whether it’s socially or at work. Burnout is the new orange.

urlVolumes are being written about digital age overload and how it’s only getting more intense. Like hitting pop-ups on every single webpage you visit. You can longer read a column or check a score without being pitched, solicited or hit up for a “follow” or a “like”.  Some sites launch full on videos you can’t skip. One recently demanded a urine sample and a DNA strand.  It’s officially out of control.

url-1Present Shock is a book that came out last year. You know, the kind printed on paper with ink. It weighs less than half a pound and it never crashes. You’ll need an outside light source to read it at night, which I’ve been doing with a building sense of anxiety. The author, Douglas Rushkoff, does a bang up job of breaking down some of the crazy shit that’s unfolding thanks to our ever-escalating tech revolution. You may think you know about the problems inherent in the digital age, but you probably haven’t thought about them as deeply as you should have.

thewheelhighRushkoff couples incisive critique with some scary analysis on the psychological effects of trying to keep on top of something as vast as the internet. There have been similar zeitgeist shifts throughout history. So how is this one different? You can bet there was a vocal minority of ancient Mesopotamians bitching about how the wheel was going change everything for the worse. And once Industrial Age machines started running 24/7, grinding through employees, sometimes literally, that minority quickly evolved into a majority.

schopenhauer-indexYou can read Schopenahauer essays from the mid-1800’s and hear his concern that people are becoming more and more dehumanized, more and more distracted. Virtually no one has enough time anymore. The gripe is far from novel. But it’s starting to become clear that the phenomenon of digital omnipresence is having a more pernicious effect than we’ve seen in past ages. We’re obsessed with the present tense like never before.

2004031200120901Rushkoff breaks it down into five chapters you’ll rip through if your feeling even one of them. But he also manages to provide a few actionable suggestions rather than just doom saying about how everything not happening RIGHT NOW should be pushed aside in favor of the onslaught of everything that supposedly is.

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He kicks it off by describing the death of the narrative. If you watch Mad Men, you’ll see how things worked before everything became instantaneous. Historically, our species learned through the intuitive structure of beginning, middle and end. Even TV ads worked this way. A protagonist is introduced. She faces a problem. Then finds a solution via the product for sale.

15823480But that narrative structure has been gutted today in everything from advertisement to movies to pornography. In Tolstoy, you had to wade through a thousand pages before getting to the sex. By then, the most subtle of erotic moves had you twitching with arousal. Now we start at full penetration. Skip the set up and get to it already– we’re very busy.

url-2The trend was thrilling when it was new. TV shows like “24” overloaded episodes with jaw-dropping plot turns every ten minutes. Steroids are fun for a while. But episode after episode, season after season, and the viewer becomes inured. And unfortunately for the writers, there’s no where left to go creatively when you start by jumping the shark. Even best of these shows goes flying off the rails because the model isn’t sustainable.

imagesThe instinct to fill “dead space” with something attention grabbing, be it explosions or banner ads or Fox News anchors jerking each other off because there’s no real news to report, comes with its share of dark side-effects– one of which Rushkoff labels “Didgifrenia”.

It begins to drive you crazy, literally, or worse, knocks you out of sync with your own biorhythms– more and more people report anxiety over things like in-boxes stuffed with unanswered emails. Others have trouble falling asleep after staring at an illuminated screen all day. We collectively suffer from Rushkoffian “Filter Failure”: a paralytic inability to voluntarily turn away.

main-boredomIn the past we seemed to have more time for the future. For planning. There was even room for something Schopenahauer insists is essential for humankind: boredom. My nephew tells me he’s bored, but he feels that while simultaneously updating his Facebook page, eating M&M’s and watching Nickelodeon.

Screen Shot 2014-06-01 at 11.19.06 PMRushkoff appropriately labels this “Fractalnoia”, a syndrome we’re all suffering from, while we try to remember that whatever’s streaming into our devices isn’t half as precious as what we’re already engaged in.

The book is careful not to retread cliches about the evils of technology. Technology, for the most part, is neutral. It has no ulterior motivations of its own… yet.  But humankind does, and therein lies the trouble.

“I am much less concerned with whatever it is technology may be doing to people than what people are choosing to do to one another through technology,” Rushkoff proclaims. “Facebook’s reduction of people to predictively modeled profiles and investment banking’s convolution of the marketplace into an algorithmic battleground were not the choices of machines.”

We chose that. But we can still choose otherwise. That is, if we’re not totally burned out.

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Shark Fins and Royal Perseverance

9523021_448x252Los Angeles is a notoriously fickle town. Perhaps it comes with territory to over hype the shit out of something and then bail on it the moment it under performs.

cbs-2013-super-bowl-show-promo-most-watched-network-large-2That’s the tragic nature of modern day entertainment. When the going gets tough, we change the channel, whether it’s a tv series that’s America’s Favorite New Show until it’s cancelled, or a sporting franchise with a legacy of victory uncharacteristically struggling for wins. There’s just too much to choose from to waste a minute with a loser.

But what kind of character can you build without the joy of a little deep suffering?

images-1Such was the case last week at the Staples Center, when the Los Angeles Kings were getting trounced by the San Jose Sharks three games to none. Empty seats littered the arena. Especially in the luxury boxes. The fans and the papers had all but written off the Kings, albeit painfully. It just wasn’t our year.

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But this is the same team that went to the mountain top in 2012, hoisting the Stanley Cup for the first time in LA history. They were losing, at times being blown off the ice, but something about it all just didn’t seem right. The Kings were better than this and they knew it, even if the chatter was blaring out the opposite.

0Then the Kings won game four, decisively, and game five, and by game six back at Staples, the bandwagon was standing room only. If the Come Back Kids doubted themselves, it never made it out of the locker room. But it must have been pin-droppingly brutal in there down three games to none. Where does the confidence come from?

In the history of the NHL only four teams have overcome such a deficit. The discipline to stay focused on the present in the face of such daunting odds takes nothing short of Zen mastery.

imagesIgnore the papers, ignore the humiliation of letting in fifteen goals in the first three games, ignore the apathy and empty seats, ignore the baseball coverage on the cover of the sports section while playoff hockey is relegated to page eight. Lace ‘em up and hit the ice, boys. The series isn’t over. The fat lady has yet to sing.

5544_1a9e_500The biggest cliché we hear athletes sputter ends up being a fundamental truth. “We’re taking it one game at a time.” Easy to say. Incredibly hard to actually pull off. And the more you shrink the deficit towards evening up a series, the easier it is to get inside your own head. We’re close. We’re closer. We can tie this series. We can actually win this thing.

And the fans start getting hopeful. And the columnists start getting hopeful. And there’s nothing more toxic when striving to fulfill a goal. As the iron willed Nietzsche advised, when faced with “a hard factuality,” what we need is not hope, but “courage in the face of reality.”Shark-Sushi-Plate

The Kings let their actions speak louder than their words. And here in Tinsel Town, the city of perpetual bullshit, that’s a truly praiseworthy achievement. They entered the shark tank without fear and carved the man-eaters into sashimi in royal fashion.kitty-duck

Now it’s onto the next odds against challenge in Anaheim and hopefully, a well cooked Duck a l’Orange.

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The Internet of Things and the Technopocalypse

beecham_research_internet_of_thingsPrepare yourself for a zeitgeist shift. Your things are becoming smarter than you.

Internet-of-ThingsAll kinds of objects, from highway entrances to clothing mannequins, pace makers to industrial shelving, are already armed with micro-sensors which are communicating with the web to prevent traffic jams or inventory depletion, report arrhythmia or even when to run your dryer to avoid peak pricing. And it’s all happening without making a peep.

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Soon your things will take preventative actions: cars communicating before colliding, laptops ordering replacement parts prior to a warranty expiring, a smart wine bottle letting you know the optimal time to open it.

songdoprojectfinalcopyqi8It’s all well underway in Songdo, Korea, the first smart-city, where every essential “thing” will shortly be linked up and self-referencing via a perpetual stream of communication, bandwidth providing.

do-you-know-whos-watching-you-570x318While technophiles are thrilled about a system that will free us from routine nuisances prior to disruption, technophobes are sounding alarms that the infrastructure for a total surveillance state is now in place: one where your blender is subpoenaed to find out how many margaritas you swilled before you went out. And it won’t be afraid to talk. Smart objects will size us up at every turn, scanning our retinas, cross-referencing our profiles with however many gigs of data they’ve already amassed, like your purchase history, and that direct deposit your employer made into your account. The object will set its price accordingly so that you just can’t say no– and it’ll all happen before you blink twice.

how-much-does-car-insurance-cost-todayOr darker, your car is tracked as you drive into a low-rent neighborhood where you teach at an underprivileged school, but instead of being rewarded for your altruism, your insurance company bumps up your rate because the area’s high risk.

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It’s not a stretch to imagine a cyber attack causing a technopocalypse in your home, where that turbo Dyson vacuum goes Cujo, colluding with your alarm system and microwave to hold your family hostage. A security patch will restore it all just as easily as it came apart for the low price of whatever they feel like gouging you for, as you’re trapped in a broom closet fighting of a battalion of pissed off appliances.

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And what happens when smart technology evolves into smart-ass technology. How soon till your dishwasher is degrading you in front of your loved ones? “Is that really how you stack dishes? Are you blind or stupid or both?” Or your car jacks your twitter handle, hitting your followers with, “Guess who’s gonna be late again. Told him to avoid the 101 but dipshit knew better!” It’s only a matter of time before all of your objects are fighting for social media space. Your toaster oven will be more concerned with adding friends than heating up your crumpets.

yelling-hard-drive-latencyHaving blow out arguments with objects won’t be unusual. Nor will being humiliated by a crosswalk sign as you jaywalk. A ticket will arrive in the mail, the envelope will know it’s been opened, and a direct withdrawal will be made from your debit account.

HALquotes.004-e1363830156673And as you check your smart-wallet for whatever tangible currency you have left, it’ll recommend you consider a second job to cover your expenses. If you don’t get one, you’ll find yourself locked in by a smart door which doesn’t want you going further into debt. It’ll all be for your own good, it will say in calm voice. After all, it’ll know better than you.

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Look Out Multiverse, Here We Come

multiverse_by_hellstormde-d47da8qSince the Industrial Age kicked off three hundred years ago, our glorious species has been gleefully pillaging and polluting the planet with the impunity most often reserved for maladapted viruses– the kind that unknowingly kill their host, and themselves as a result of their fanatical zest for life. But before that happens, the smart virus will jump to another host with the intention of evolving a more sustainable relationship, one that doesn’t end in suicide.

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So are viruses smarter  than humans? Cause the test results are in, and it seems our host, this blue green planet we live on, isn’t feeling so hot at the moment. You might even say she’s pretty pissed  at this point, and showing signs of flat out fury.

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We stand at a precarious crossroads. The effects of industrialization have reached scientific certainty, and yet, an utterly irrational desire for growth in perpetuity has lead us headlong toward the equivalent of environmental DEFCON 1.

Destruction is imminent at this rate, albeit at a much slower and painful pace than all out nuclear war. To clarify, this is the destruction of us as a species, not Mother Earth herself .  She’ll be around for millions of years after we’re all dead and buried and recycled.imagesizer

And yet, all of the hubristic, mostly white males in power still lack the imagination to even consider an alternative to the current system. It’s going to be unbridled, unregulated, bottom-line thinking till the oceans boil and clouds are black with soot– great grandchildren be damned.

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You’ll find two books in the anthropology isle of your local digital bookstore that breakdown the similarities of all empires in decline. “A Short History of Progress,” by Ronald Wright, sheds a bright light on the logistics of how all Golden Ages end in ash.  And Joseph Tainter’s, “The Collapse of Complex Societies” is a similar page turner which will leave you dumbstruck that we know as much as we do about it all and still can’t modify our behavior.global-warming-pollution-concept-26921250

You know the premise by now: we’ve created a system based on the impossibility of an eternal supply of natural resources. Unfortunately, there are no new land masses left to loot, or oceans to flush poison into. Everything just accumulates from here on out. UnknownBut instead of even a minor adjustment to the economic game plan, we chose to dig deeper and push harder, with the singular ambition of keeping that balance sheet in the darkest black. It’s get-as-much-as-you-can-get-right-now, regardless of screeching alarm bells and super-sized hurricanes and historically harsh winters and mountains of terrifying evidence from nobel laureates. The central question currently being debated today  is still, “How and when can we get more?”31KochClimate

Treat a friend like that, or your car, and see how far it gets you. Can’t everything around us continue to work with just a little less?  What would an investment in awareness yield down the line? What are the profit margins of conservation?

Is it bleeding heart liberal to suggest not pathologically red-lining every single resource on earth that we can make a product out of? Yes it is, you commie,  socialist, loser. Now shut up and pass the pick ax, drill bit, exhaust pipe. Time to take another hit.moon_movie_image__3_

 

As we look to space exploration, the last frontier, our viral-minded mentality remains perplexedly unevolved. “What planets out there will give us the most? What can we bring back and mark up to keep this poison-spewing juggernaut on earth churning?” The 2009 film, “Moon”, with Sam Rockwell, is a story about a lunar mining operation for a deep crater mineral that will help the earth solve its power problems. We’ve stripped mined and fracked the earth to death. Thank goodness the moon’s so close!

A VISUALISATION OF MARS CREATED FROM SPACECRAFT IMAGERY.

Initial analysis concerning the colonization of Mars has unironic parallels: the likely abundance of rare metals like platinum, gold, silver, as well as deuterium, or heavy hydrogen, which is five times more abundant than on earth, could be used to replace coal. Hey, awesome! There’s a whole universe out there to exploit!

images copyEven better is the latest cosmological hypothesis which claims that there aren’t just innumerable exo-planets, and galaxies to eventually travel to and plunder, but whole other universes! A few cutting-edge physicists have postulated that our universe, all 13.8 billion observable light-years of it, is just one of many. And all of these multiverses are sitting in individual super-duper- major-massive black holes (my term) which protect them from whatever’s on the other side.These individual black holes are so big that they leave room for infinite expansion, which our universe has been doing since the Big Bang.

pia16695-43-1024x768It’s Big Capitalism’s wet dream come true. If these renegade physicist turn out to be right, then there are innumerable super-duper-major-massive black holes holding innumerable other universes all contained in super-duper-whopper-Mothership universe.

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A good visual is to imagine an infinitely large wheel of Swiss cheese. The Mothership universe is the entire wheel, and the holes within it are where all of these individual multiverses like ours sit. And more so, it’s possible that all of these black holes interlink like one-way portals to each other. It’s all connected.

Multiverse_-_level_IThe Swiss Cheese theory is nothing short of revolutionary, and it’s probably tasty with honey baked ham and spicy mustard on pumpernickel.

 

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And though it can’t be proved just yet, it should be enough for every near-sighted capitalist to breath a sign of relief that there are more than enough resources out there to infect with the virus of economic expansions in perpetuity.

Keep the blinders on fellas. And full speed ahead!

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Hey! I’m Walkin’ Here!

midnight-cowboyAs a decade long New York transplant, there’s nothing more galvanizing than witnessing downtown Los Angeles come to life– explode, might be a better adjective– with nationally recognized restaurants, brand new museums, indy boutiques and art galleries.

odeon_imageIt feels a little like Tribeca did in the 1980’s, when daring entrepreneurs ventured south from the Village and Soho in an effort to expand the city’s options for dining and imbibing and discovery. Remember when the Odeon was the only place down there to eat? Within a few years , there were fifty other spots to hit. All you needed was the will to adventure and a good pair of walking shoes and your options were unlimited.

jaywalking-ticketSo when the New York Times writes a piece on the spike in jaywalking tickets being slapped on pedestrians in downtown L.A., one can’t help but cringe at all the remaining dissimilarities between the two great cities. In short, how can you take a place seriously when it doesn’t trust its residents to cross the street on their own?

“We’re heavily enforcing pedestrian violations because they’re impeding traffic and causing too many accidents and deaths,” proclaims Lt. Lydia Leos.

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I can just hear Ratso Rizzo complaining to Joe Buck: “Yeah, yeah, I’m s-s-sure, uh,  traffic accidents will clear r-r-right up with more jaywalkin’ tickets!”

I can report first hand and without exaggeration that the traffic downtown is rarely impeded by anything. The streets are w-i-d-e and relatively abandoned most of the time. Maybe after a Lakers game, or an event at the Disney Concert Hall, you get a back-up at the entrance to the 110 freeway, but there aren ‘t any pedestrians crossing there.

downtown-la-downtown-v37680-720As for accidents, what can be said? Drivers are as careless as pedestrians. The LAPD claims that 172 pedestrian were hit by cars last year, but they fail to mention how many drivers were fingering google maps on their phones when they ran over something that felt like a human body, which was probably also texting as the car plowed over it. 172 is an unfortunate number, but not terrible  for a county of 13 million plus people.

52d9bcefb451c.preview-300The truth about jaywalking tickets is far more pathetic. The city can taste a new source of revenue now that downtown’s starting to hop. Too bad the folks in charge are so short sighted. Why  punish the people responsible for the boom? They’re the ones populating the concert halls, helping new restaurants thrive after a show, bringing more and more of their friends downtown, and raising property values across the board. Not to mention the cultural capital of having people gather in what was a former dead-zone to exchange ideas over drinks or a game or a concert.

imagesThe most embarrassing aspect of all is the Draconian enthusiasm the police have in writing you up. You think they’d just nailed Scarface.  For real now, if you’re on a curb when the countdown starts and you take a step into the crosswalk, you’ve broken the law and can face up to a $250 fine. One friend got a ticket for $197, not sure who decides. But it’s outrageous either way.

52d9bd77d28c0.preview-300The bigger question this begs is that if it’s illegal to step into the walkway why has they city has installed timers at every light, telling us there’s 30 or 19 or 9 seconds left to cross? It makes no sense.  A smart lawyer should argue entrapment. Because that’s what it is.

Maybe we can suggest that the LAPD google LOS ANGELES GANG VIOLENCE and read up on some issues to clamp down on other than fining people for crossing across an empty street, like the shooting that left two people dead at the end of August, or the stabbings on Hollywood boulevard.

valley-girl-gunny-saxSo many people still tease LA for cliches that are no longer relevant, and we let it slide cause we know the truth. No one is, like, totally talking like a Valley Girl, like, anymore. Our food scene can compete with any city in the country. And for as much as the movie industry still dominates, myriad other businesses are thriving , from clothing, to photography, to architecture.

Missing_Persons_-_Spring_Session_MThe most dated criticism of all is that “Nobody walks in LA.” Apologies to Missing Persons, but your song is as dated as violation itself. People are walkin’ in LA. It’s the new orange.

los-angeles-mapWe have an extensive subway, in case you missed it. You walk to it. The red line at Hollywood and Vine gets you downtown in 22 minutes. Enough time to read a section of something called a newspaper. You get off and walk a few blocks to a bar like Caña, sip a handcrafted cocktail at around 6:30, then hoof it a few more blocks to the Staples center to see the LA King’s dominate another opponent.

636px-Don't_jay_walk_1937-615After the game, mosey to one of the multiple eateries proudly still serving at 10:30 pm, (Baco Mercat, Teroni, Factory Kitchen, Alma, Cork Bar, Mo Chica, Bestia). Then catch the train back to Hollywood all without worrying about parking or gridlock on the 101 or a DUI checkpoint.

imagesBut now it’s WALKER BEWARE. And this at a time when Manhattan is giving its residents 6000 Citi-Bikes to ride at will. But we can’t cross the street on our own.  Can LA ever be a  great city treating its residents like children, or worse fining them like criminals? It’s highly unlikely… Even Ratso Rizzo knows that.

 

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Google Brain, On Sale in 2014

ieee-spectrum-technological-singularity-thumbFlip on any screen that plays a moving image and you’ll see a fast spreading cultural meme in films, TV series and TED talks alike: human beings are integrating technology so deeply into their lives that it’s getting hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Screen Shot 2013-12-23 at 11.25.46 PMJ.J. Abrams has paired a cop with a robot in Almost Human. Intelligence is a show about another cop with a chip in his brain. And Spike Jonze’ Her deals with a heart broken guy (who’s not a cop– can that work?) who falls head-over-hard-drive in love with his operating system. It’s all pretty fanciful fiction… or is it?

ray_kurzweil1Ray Kuzweil says the human race will be inextricably linked with technology by the year 2045. He calls it The Singularity: a time when humans are literally augmented by technology via genetics, nanobots, and artificial intelligence. The phenomenon will continue to accelerate until artificial intelligence is unrecognizably advanced: meaning, if you have access to the resources, a simulated version of YOU can continue living, thinking, and evolving inside the nodes of a computer, long after you’re dead. There will be no going back.

Google_Glass-800x533It’s  frightening and fascinating to live in an era when the birth of this reality is so tangible. Google Glass isn’t out of beta test phase yet and we’re already imagining losing those bulky frames and inserting the tech directly into our eye balls. Memory chips in the brains of Alzheimer’s patients is closer than you think.

Memorial Day TravelCars driving themselves? The technology’s been successfully tested for years already.  And talk about colonizing space has moved from sci-fi to think tanks. There is currently a plan on the table for an incremental colonization of Mars, one bio-pod at a time, just like we did for the international space station.  The only thing holding us back from our Martian future is the 7 month commute time, but astronauts are training on the highways of Los Angeles to prepare.

The Singularity is gonna be a rough transition, for shiz.  Tests are already showing the deleterious effects of all this tech on our analogue minds. Remembering, for example, isn’t just something we do by ourselves. It’s a lot more social than that.

UnknownEach of us gravitates to certain modalitites of knowledge. Some of us are better with historical events, others have a knack for dates and numbers, others still can recall the exact ingredients of a family recipe, or the precise order of notes in a symphony. Over time, we instinctively build a network of shared knowledge with those who are experts in the fields we are not. Not only does it keep us personally informed and more deeply connected, it also exercises different parts of the brain than merely looking something up on an iPad.

Unknown-1But more and more, people are turning to the web to satisfy their curiosity and the human web of memory is fast atrophying. How many phone numbers can you spit out from memory besides your own? Or addresses? What about that actor from that film? You know, he was in that other film, with that other actor? How long will you wrack your brain before the urge to pull out a smart phone overwhelms you? Why waste two seconds trying to figure it out? Or worse, call someone up who’s great with actors and films to ask them personally. Who wants to deal with that?

elementaryThe tendency to forgo remembering ’cause you have a super computer in your hand is called information off-loading. It’s an incredibly powerful convenience, but just like The Force, it has a dark side. What these tests are showing is that how we get our knowledge might be more important than we realize. Any grade school teacher will tell you that most kids learn better when the information comes from a human source.  Intangibles such as a tone of voice, cadence of a delivery, a concise hand gesture or moment of eye-contact, can be more essential to retaining information than we comprehend.

3ran2lIt wouldn’t so worrisome if we acknowledged all this, but one pathetic revelation of all this testing is the sorry extent to which people incorporate the Internet into a subjective sense of self. We actually think we’re getting smarter. But yank away that computer, and more than half of us couldn’t call our best friend in an emergency, much less figure out the percentage on a tip.

Sorry for the reminder, but Google is not a part of your cognitive toolbox. It’s an add on, and when you’re off-line, you may find yourself reaching for what under past circumstances would already be in your hands.

hard-drive-contentsThe Singularity will be fascinating when it’s finally achieved. Until then, we’ll have to put up with a whole new set of bullshit excuses from people and their newly integrated technology. Like, I couldn’t come into work cause my internal hard drive crashed. Or, your message got scrambled when my audio chip accidentally converted it.

India-call-centerSeeing people yelling at themselves in public certainly won’t be a rare sight. It already isn’t. But you can bet it’s gonna suck arguing with the Bangladeshi customer service rep that now resides inside your temporal lobe. Don’t worry if you can’t understand his accent. There’s a good chance you’ll be able to download a clarification app directly into your brain.

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Waiter, There’s a Soup In My Fly

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There’s an old adage that goes something like this: the only two creatures on the planet who will survive a nuclear holocaust are cockroaches… and Keith Richards.  The good news about the apocalypse is, there will  be plenty to eat, and the menu will be free of rolling stones.

insect_plate_lIf you’re stumped, you clearly haven’t heard about the latest protein diet sweeping the terroir: insect du jour. Baked Beetles via Bangkok. Fried grasshoppers from Guadalajara. Sautéed Capetown caterpillars and Butterfly Eggs in Bangladesh. Andrew Zimmern’s mouth is watering.

Turns out there are literally thousands of edible insects waiting to crawl across your palette with multiple legs, and food scientists are unwavering about their nutritional value.

fao_logoThe latest round of lab tests by the UN Food and Agricultural Organization prove that in the protein category, certain toe-biters  stack up evenly with chicken, pork and beef, and most have far more iron. It shouldn’t surprise you that a basket of fried Jerusalem crickets are hands down healthier than deep fried buffalo wings, and about 1/10th the cholesterol. Dipped into  ranch dressing, you’re beer-swilling football buddies won’t even know the difference.

MudbugMadness07Chowing bugs, AKA entomophagy, is well established in the far east. It’s been an voluntary alternate food source for decades, with the insecticide flavor pallete ranging from earthy to shroomy to nutty to crawfish-like, (which makes sense, cause ya’ll in N’awlins’ calls’em mudbugs). The right kind of larvae are nothing short of a delicacy, with the added bonus of being off the charts in omega 3’s.

bizarre-foodsThe fad has hardly caught on stateside, save Zimmern’s Travel Channel show and reality debacles like Fear Factor. It’s surprising they haven’t tackled the issue in The Walking Dead where you’d imagine food shortages being more dire than they’ve been portrayed.

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I want a scene where two desperate, dirty survivors are brawling over the last dragon-fly patty, only to lose it to a zombie sensing a tiny drop of blood inside the little bugger. The survivors would skulk back to their camp and settle for yet another night around the campfire, dining on boring black ant enchiladas.

http-inlinethumb47.webshots.com-41966-2133660080103582665S425x425Q85I can’t wait for the moment Costco’s stocking mass packages of chemically flavored arachnids. “’Scuse me, where are the Kirkland BBQ’d Tarantula chips?”  You’d ask, basket overflowing. “Aisle 37.” Would be the reply, “Between the Kirkland Salt’n’Pepper scorpions and Kirkland Waterbug filets. 5000 are only $24.95.”

ladybuglogoThe odds of them being out of stock are nil. Insects reproduce ten times faster than mammals, so the supply chain will forever flow. And as the trend turns from hokey to wildly profitable, farmers will migrate en masse from  pricey cattle and certified organic produce, to far more affordable insects, (pesticide free!)

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I can taste the revolution in fusion cuisine. And I look forward to  obsessive/compulsive food-bloggers snapping pictures of their nuevo small-plate insect dishes before diving in. But if it all sounds thoroughly inedible, just consider that most insects won’t have the slightest hesitation dining on you.

Shakespeare-Smiles-Wink-HeadshotAs Hotspur says in his death scene in Act V of Henry IV… “No, Percy thou are dust and food for…”   “Worms,” replies Hal, eyeing a juicy one beneath his fallen foe with a salivating smile.

 

 

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Jelly Roll Blues and Antigravity

800px-Jelly_cc11 copySo the facts are out, and the news is devastating. If you’ve been living in a cave and haven’t heard, brace yourself: Jellyfish born in space have “massive vertigo” when they return to our blue green planet here in the Milky Way galaxy, otherwise known as Earth.

HT_gravity_bullock_fixing_tk_131007_4x3_992In the early 1990’s, NASA sent nearly 3000 jellyfish into orbit on the space shuttle Columbia to gage how gravitylessness affected their development. This was back when NASA was flush with cash to piss away on experiments involving non-polyp forms of the phylum Cnidaria, Sandra Bullock and George Clooney be damned.

card-28363372-frontWhen they returned to the third stone from the sun, they exhibited an “abnormal pulsing” as so many of us do after late night binging at say, Taco Bell.  Apparently, under the influence of our gravitation pull, the jellies experienced a malfunctioning in the mechanism which employs calcium sulfate crystals to help them detect direction.

image3What has this to do with us, you wonder? Isn’t it obvious? Consider our long-term future. The one where we melt the ice caps, tip the atmosphere’s oxygen ratio from breathable to toxic, and then flee to the moon and Mars to rape and pillage what’s left of their natural resources.

jean-baudrillard1I, for one, am sad I won’t be there to see it personally. As Baudrilliard said between healthy drags of a self-rolled french tobacco cigarette, “Imagine the amazing good fortune of the generation that gets to see the end of the world.  This is as marvelous as being there in the beginning.”

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Because you just know that amidst our desperate race for extra-terrestrial survival there will be someone who sees an angle to make a buck, or garner a little more power than the other survivors, by say, shutting down the off-planetarty government or filibustering the intergalactic council, and he will start us down the very same path that got us to the point where we needed to get off the planet to stay alive in the first place (i.e. ignoring fifty years of scientifically proven global warming data.) Bank on it.

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But it’s not all dystopian melodrama here. Mother Earth will finally rid herself of the worst parasite to ever attached itself to a host for a free ride without giving diddley back in return: Humankind. And being free of our bad habits and wicked ways and relentless take and throw away without one iota of reciprocity, she’ll have a moment of respite to begin setting all the damage we’ve done right.

treesDM_468x461Golf courses all over the earth will become thick with growth, providing new sources of oxygen. Mineral mines will crumbled in on themselves, hiding the scars of centuries of gouging. Fish will slowly repopulate the seas without sushi being hocked on every corner including Rite Aide and CVS and Duane Reade, GMO seeds will slowly lose the evolutionary battle to organic seeds which are better equipped to adapt to rapidly changing environments.

And in a thousand years or so, reports will filter in that the Earth is ready for us to return. We’ll pack up all our shit, leave all of our garbage behind, and jet back home singing God Bless America, even though there’s an international population.  Much rejoicing will be heard on that journey, you can bet.

blobsBut then we’ll touch down and step out of the sleek ships, and fall flat on our faces, freaking out ’cause we were born in space and our bodies no longer have a clue how to handle Gravity. We’ll wobble around collectively, suffering from “massive vertigo” because– and this is my truncated blog-science, ’cause who’s got time to do real research anymore?– we all basically have jellyfish in our ears that help us keep balanced. Ultra-sensitive hair cells that reach out like tentacles and allow us to determine which way’s up.

Evolution will have done away with these reliable otoliths over the generation born in orbit and upon disembarking on good old planet Earth, intense dizziness will be the new normal, just like our fellow gelatinous Coelenterata blundering helplessly in the deep void of the ocean after being birthed in zero gravity.

still_blob4Then again, it might just improve our entire way of life. We’ll all be  way too nauseous to do any real damage anymore. Certainly operating heavy machinery will be out of the question. No one will be able to sink a putt, much less drive a golf ball 300 yards. And war will be reduced to slithering up to your enemy and trying to jiggle on him more rigorously.

We’ll lose a lot of great traditions too, unfortunately. Forget about ice hockey. Walking on solid ground’ll be challenging enough. On skates, unbalanced blobs are pretty much totally fucked.

UnknownI would, however, suggest buying stock in Segway as they will be the standard form of ground transportation until future generations re-acquire the gravity gene and set us on back on the circular course of imminent planetary destruction.

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The sweetest irony of all is that in between the time it takes us to regenerate the vestibular labyrinth in our inner ears and get  our balance back, the jellyfish who survived the apocalypse and repopulated the seas will rule.

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Hurry Up Right Now Too Late You Missed it!

Information overload, conceptual image

Anyone else getting the sinking feeling that no matter what you achieve in life it’ll be quickly lost in the spiraling eddy of data-overload that now engrosses every aspect of our lives like an inverted super-massive black hole relentlessly vomiting out “information” instead of sucking in?  Just me?  Lucky you…

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It feels like if we find the cure for cancer or world peace or life on Mars, it’ll be tweeted out between headline of government shut-downs, unpunished financial scandals, Kardisgustian baby gossip, and the network’s fall line-up of prime-time dogshit– where wicked, sexy people do devilishly sexy things that leave us hanging till next week’s devious, sexy, wickedness.

vinehandson1_1020_large_verge_medium_landscape“Hey, d’you hear about the cure for cancer?” You’ll hear on a street corner, though not in LA cause everyone’s in a car with the windows  up, and not in New York, cause everyone’s wearing a headset.  “Now way! That’s awesome! Hey check  this Vine video I made. It’s only a few seconds…”

find-the-cure-cancer-ribbonYes, cancer’s cure will trend for a day before being knocked out of the cycle by the utterly banal, because trends, by definition, come and go. And with 160 character limits and 7 second running times, nothing sticks for long before it’s eclipsed by new infinities of trivia.

(* Incidentally, need investors for a start-up I’m calling, Twigger. Send messages one character long, and make viral videos with negative running times.  That’s right, you’ll actually get  time back after watching a Twigger vid.)

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It’s not that time’s speeding up these days. It’s that we can’t focus for as long as we used to. Every smartphone communicates in the language of the instant. iPhone updates happen “Now” and then “Just now”, and then “1 minute ago.” Then “5 minutes ago.” If ten minutes goes by and you haven’t updated it says, “Ancient History”.

But all this is old news.  Polemical rhetoric about technology robbing us of deeper experiences has already  filled the shelves of virtual bookstores and not un-ironically, they’ll all get lost, (after a marketing blitzkrieg of time-sensitive expletives declaring how NOW these books about NOW are).

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We’ve entered an era where there’s too much supply and not enough demand, and it applies to everything from cars and online sex to independent movies to remote data storage.  Too many choices, option, alternatives. So  a battle ensues in every area– to be heard, needed wanted, demanded– and the effect it creates is the worst trend of all: false urgency. The gravity with which all this trivia is spewed is detestable.

I swear if I get duped by another mega-brand commercial I’m gonna pluck my eyes out. You know what I’m talking about, cause it’s happened to you; the moment when you’re focused on something worthwhile, like reading, and your attention gets pulled to an illuminated flat screen.

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You can’t tear yourself from the images ’cause they’re beautiful and they move in quick succession, evoking emotions you don’t have time to quell. Then, the music kicks in, scoring the escalation. It’s symphonic and powerful and, against all odds, you find yourself somehow invested in what you’re watching, even though it’s only been 14 seconds. You’re caught up in a narrative as gorgeous as a feature film, and you can’t wait to find out how it ends.

story_1475_1475-xlargeHave you seen the one about the woman trying to get to the airport in a storm? Her husband’s arriving and she wants to be there for him, so she drives, cautiously, as a storm closes in around her like some kind of sexual predator, slapping its phallic branches against her wet windshield and splashing fluids under her  wheels.

UnknownSwooping crane shots and edgy POV angles raise the tension with every frame. The score soars with symphonic bursts and eerie thriller sound FX.  The spot is nothing short of Hitchcockian, at this point. And I’m sitting in my living room on a sunny Sunday, trying to enjoy another miserable Giants shutout, and suddenly my heart is in my mouth.  Is this poor woman gonna make it?!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe screen goes BLACK.

Oh god. She’s dead! I’m beside myself with grief. I think about how my own mother is getting older and has a hard time driving at night. I want to call her. I should’ve already! What is my problem? Why am I not more grateful for everything she’s done for me? I’m a selfish little prick, that’s why. I hate myself.

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Then, a big, bright logo illuminates the screen: BRIDGESTONE! Our tires represent sexual equality for bad women drivers.

The woman, now safely in the passenger seat, smiles at her Wonder Bread eating husband.  The rain has stopped, ’cause men control the weather, and they’re safely on their way to anglo suburbia, where they’ll make love missionary style, and sleep on 300 count sheets. Oh, and 20% off all tires at Pep Boys. Sale ends tomorrow!

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I mean, holy shit, did I just go through all that for a fucking tire spot? And what was the budget for that extravaganza, twenty million? Thank god for local cable channels still making awful commercials that don’t elicit my deepest primordial empathies.  Thank god for casting cross-eyed guys and women with not-quite-perfect teeth. I wouldn’t buy carpet cleaning services from anyone else.

imagesI confess, as a storyteller, I take pride in the principals of drama. They’ve been around since the first caveman realized what made his fellow Neanderthals lean forward around the fire. What is it exactly that keeps people interested?

Aristotle advises that the best way to move an audience to catharsis, (meaning purification) is to evoke a primary concern: death usually does the trick. But there are degrees of death on the storytelling scale; near death being a close second, a serious threat just after that. Then fear and danger in general. Followed by the ticking clock of some urgency to achieve a goal… you get the gist.

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The problem is that everyone with a platform to tell a story today does as well. There’s a collective (and non-stop) need to craft compelling narrative, whether you’re a college kid in Dayton, or a local newspaper in Westchester, or a multinational conglomerate enslaving third world workers.  Whether you’re selling hair replacement products or children’s books or edible dildos, the goal is to “fight for eyeballs” through some form of urgency, and it’s maxing out our capacity for authentic emotion connection.

bad-date-storiesThe result is s plague of bad story-telling that reaches from  individual Facebook updates, to the White Press corps.  Instead of authenticity, it’s surface manipulation. There’s only so much bandwidth in the human psyche, and a lot of entities are competing for it. The result is a cat which chases its tail.  And the hard changes that would result in some form of personal or national catharsis are foregone for superficial stories of exceptionalism that are lost as fast as they’re spun in the imminently rising sea of zeros and ones.

stopwatchHow do we escape the insatiable velocity of the NOW? The only answer seems to be, individually. Only by voluntarily tuning-out can we make authenticity a virtue again; one that could spread virally to the tribe, and maybe become a collective value. It’s a local movement that’s already started to happen. Just think how threatened you are when you hear someone isn’t on Facebook.  It’s like saying I don’t believe in God in 1500’s Spain.

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When the ancient Greeks had their week-long theater festival in 500 BC, by law, the market place was shut down, as were the courts and the Athenian Assembly. For that entire week, it was about gathering in the theater with the singular demand of focusing on the centuries old ritual of honoring of the god Dionysus. It’s almost hard to imagine something like that today, where our government shuts-down for the exact opposite reason: they can’t agree on what the story is.

pisistratus festivalYou can bet the merchants were pissed about the revenue loss. They were too fucking greedy even then to open their eyes and see the cultural benefits of hitting pause for a few days.  The festival brought in merchants from across the ancient globe who were so impressed with the city that they returned again and again to experience the magic (and spend lots of drachma). The theater festival brought the entire polis together around powerful stories, and that tradition is what elevated the Hellenic culture into the Golden Age.

The Greeks understood one thing we’ve  forgotten: the culture with the best stories dominates.  This is the product the Greeks continued to export long after their empire fell,  a product we still buy today.  One wonders, in between detergent spots, what our 7 second culture will leave behind for the future?  3000 years from now, what of THE INSTANTANEOUS will remain?

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Notes From The Underground: LA vs NYC subways

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Yeah, LA’s got a subway. Make all the jokes you want. Skip riding it. Inhale gridlock fumes while inching forward at 2 miles an hour instead. We’ll be thrilled to keep this subterranean treasure to ourselves a little  longer. It’s still the best kept secret in town.

los-angeles-mapBut if you do get crazy and decide to drop the whopping $1.50 it takes to journey across the 88 miles of newly laid rail, don’t enter expecting what you get in New York or London.

The tracks of the LA Metro aren’t all lined with palm trees, but they’re a hell of a lot sunnier than the Big Apple’s concrete jungle.

Here are a few handy tips to prepare you for your maiden voyage:

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BEWARE OF CLEANLINESS. Unlike Manhattan, where the subways are more akin to cacophonous, gum-addled, rat-friendly saunas than a means of public transportation, LA’s metro is a cool, graffiti-free, rodentless haven of serenity.

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It’s rare to see litter anywhere in the LA Metro, whereas at 10pm on a Saturday at 42nd street, overflowing bins stacked like Jenga Puzzles are a common site.

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Most platforms in LA are immaculate, and some you’ll find ornately designed, like at Hollywood & Vine. Thousands of 35mm film reels, generously donated by Paramount Pictures, blanket the ceiling. Just below them, metallic palm trees burst from the tops of the columns. It’s unexpectedly beautiful and indelibly west coast.

img00366-20100928-2308In truth, a small rodent was spotted in a tunnel near the MacArthur Park stop recently, but far different from NYC rats who’ve been seen giving people the finger, this rat had a tiny headshot between its paws in a mad dash to a commercial audition.

CAN YOU SPARE A CLUE? In NYC, you’ll face an endless cycle of odiferous solicitations ending in some form of, “give me your money.”

flinders-street-subway-beggarIt’s not uncommon to have back to back to back  beggars on longer rides. It’s exhausting and saddening at the same time. But just when you hit the saturation point of feeling nothing, of tuning out every human interruption no matter how desperate, a well-told sob story or a witty rejoinder will actually penetrate your emotional armor, and make you dig into your pocket… and give. New York pan handlers are the best in the world. And they weren’t always beggars. They were, most likely, imaginative people with big ambitions.

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It’s much more rare to see beggars in LA. You get the occasional destitute wacko, but in typical Hollywood fashion, they tend to over-act. You want to give them notes. Help them tighten their bits… Thankfully most don’t possess the car-clearing pungency of an authentic NYC hobo. And like network TV, you probably won’t hear anything moving or witty enough to merit a donation.

It’s disorienting not having your guard up all the time against panhandlers, vagrants, and young hustlers hawking candy, but the truth in the City of Angels is that you’ll mostly be approached by desperately lost commuters– Angelenos included– trying to figure out “where the hell this thing goes”. It’s not always their fault.  LA hasn’t quite figured out consistency yet, or maybe it just prides itself on flakiness: one day the near side of the track heads west towards Culver City,  the next, you’re crossing to the other side to make the same trip.

subway1New York can be equally flaky, though, and so overwrought with signage it’s dizzying. Good luck making the same trip to Queens on a Saturday as you do during the week. Track closures for maintenance will undoubtedly detour you for hours. Give a whole new meaning to Sinatra’s paeon, “If you can make it there, you’ll make it anywhere…”

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MUSIC TO YOUR EARS. Manhattan is overpopulated with quality musicians, and all kinds end up showing off in the underground. Garbage-can percussionists, Japanese Shamisen, Jamaican steel drummers covering Bing Crosby, saxaphone so sweet you’d swear you were at the Blue Note.

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Name an instrument and it’s probably being played, often in motion; like the five foot, Chinese violinist who tears through Flight of the Bumblebee at rush hour, on the sardine packed L train, falling to and fro without ever missing a note… Miraculous.

There’s far less diversity in LA. You’ll see an acoustic guitar or an electric piano, but never on a train. LA may be a stone’s through from Mexico, but you’re guaranteed to see more Mariachi bands from 125th to Canal than all the LA Metro combined.

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Not enough people ride the rails for a raconteur to earn a day’s wage, or even a Denny’s grand-slam breakfast, and yet they show up day after day to play. One can only marvel at the commitment. Rock on….

IMG_3931LA has room to grow, and hopefully the city will learn that they can take a page from New Yorkers and step it way the hell up! The underground is a place to let your imagination run wild. It’s the last place on earth where cell phones don’t work. And books are still read. It’s a place where an exclusive and momentary culture can be created, and thrive. It’s a place where you can paint yourself gold and take a nap… The subway is your oyster…

WELCOME ABOARD. LA can’t match Manhattan in the diversity of its ridership. The majority of west coast commuters are ethnic working class. Suits and heels are in short supply, though crossover happens for events like Laker games and concerts downtown.

ridersBereft are LA riders of that moment when the doors bang open at say, west 72nd street, and a pair of knock out, high status ladies step on, perfume wafting through the must like and nasal Shangri-La. Or perhaps, it’s the tall, dark, fantasy man, voluntarily reading Nietzsche… There’s simply no better place to have a sexual fantasy than in the New York underground. You know what I’m talking about…

ENJOY THE RIDE. It’s nothing short of quaint, stepping onto an LA train car. Almost calming… In NYC, you’re assaulted by advertising plastered on every possible surface, including the floors and ceilings. You’ll frequently face the train car buy-out, where Bud Light or Bacardi or the infamous Dr. Zizmore, promising smoother skin, covers the entire train car in the same ad.  More is always better.Wrapped Subway- New York- NY Rangers11

In LA, the virus of ads is still contained to a few placards per car. Seats are cushioned and decorated with velvety feeling patterns and the cars themselves cruise smoothly enough to write in calligraphy… Until you’re on the Expo line, that is, and hit a stop light.

IMG_5116It’s utterly bewildering to look out a train window and see a row of cars waiting along side you at a red. Isn’t the point of taking the train to spare yourself this very banality? The plan was to raise the tracks above street level, but funding was cut short, and though not the norm on most lines, it’s an utter killjoy. And exclusively LA.

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But unlike the Big Apple’s rail-grinding, ear-piercing screeches no set of noise canceling headphones can deflect– distorted announcements at deafening decibels, the boom box thump of break-dancers, and the chance of taking one of their hi-tops in the mouth– the LA Metro is so considerate and orderly it’s eerie.

photoAnd that awful NYC experience of dashing for a train you MUST catch only to have the door close in your face to the smirking delight of the passengers aboard, will never happen in Los Angeles. I didn’t know that a few days ago when I was shut out at 7th and Metro. I felt that wave of self-hatred– the one where had I left ten seconds earlier, I wouldn’t now have been late.  Then I had that meditative moment, where I realized time is relative and relax, you’re not living in a refugee camp in Lebanon. Then I felt a moment of nostalgia for all those trains I missed in NYC.  Then, a small Asian woman walked up next to me, and hit the illuminated button and the doors opened, and she walked on. I picked  my jaw up off the ground and followed her on.

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A One-Way fare is only good for a single boarding, on a single line. So you’ll have to swipe again to change trains, which sort of blows. And there’s extremely limited service after midnight and before 5am, as in none for most lines… which blows even more. But then again, who hasn’t waited for what feels like five fucking hours for the D train at 3 am?

Overall the LA Metro gets an A.  You still need a car to get around, and subway riders have a few things to learn, like not sleeping across two seats during rush hour– an offense for which you’d have your legs cut off in NYC– but that will come with time. And the way the system’s been built, it looks like it’ll be around for a while.

Tinsel town, you got rails of steel.

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The World Is My Recliner

wall-e-fatWe’ve all seen Wall-E, right?  It’s starting to feel like if the film wasn’t animated it could be a documentary about the near future. The floating fatsos in their all encompassing video chairs. Well, guess what? Like all post-modern phenomenon, it’s already real.

Jaguars-Lounge-slide-40T3-articleLargeThe New York Times recent article about the new Fantasy Lounge at the  Jacksonville Jaguars football stadium had an image  so familiar I initially thought it was for a re-issue of Wall-E. Jaguar fans now pay top dollar to go to the stadium and watch the game, in recliners, on TV’s… because reality isn’t half as good as what you can see from your chair.

It goes way beyond football…. Though I’m not quite floating, it’s getting more and more frightening what I can do from this recliner I’m leaning back in here.

The fundamentals you had to go to a store for a few years ago are gone: books, music, movies. To think that less than a decade ago appearing physically in a specific location was mandatory. Now it’s nostalgic.recordstore

Truth is, I recall those times with dread . So primitive to have to walk somewhere, buy something possessing weight, with physical money, all while interacting with a human being at a register?  Outrageous…

IMG_0459What a drag to maybe bump into a  young woman in the philosophy section of a used book store.  Strike up a conversation about Nietzsche’s over a cup of coffee afterwards… Or maybe, see a director you like perusing the Foreign Films bin, learning he’s about to start a new project, and getting an audition as a result?  What a relief to know none of that crap can infect me from my recliner .

fal08_early_at_the_farmers_marketThere were a few other places populated with human beings where chance interaction might accrue: the post office, the market, college. But fortunately, email and on-line ordering and university video seminars are slowly antiquating all that. I just clicked my way to a weekly delivery of organically grown local produce even though there’s a Farmer’s Market a few blocks down the street. Why bother?

Met2600-1Why leave the house to see theater, or hear classical music, or an opera when there are live simulcasts? At the right volume, and under the right influences, it’s close enough to being there, and you don’t have to deal with those pesky crowds at the concession stand. And

I can do it all from this laptop, for free, and I don’t even have to take my thumb out of my ass. I feel even better about my zero carbon footprint, and so should you.

UnknownI’m also really looking forward to the implementation of Bitcoin. Let’s get rid of physical money all together.  Abolishing the gold standard was easy enough. It also made it immeasurably easier to manipulate rates and value. Can you imagine how much easier that’ll be without the exchange of physical currency? The powers that be can make every cent we’ve save valueless, at will, with the click of a button…. We must protest! And we will!

IMG_0894It’s actually my favorite new reclining activity of all. Yes, my new found, cyber political activism. Now I can express my outrage without ever being in harm’s way. Why gather publicly to protest when I can sign an e-petition? In the last year alone, I’ve fought the construction of a new high rise, supported gay marriage, opposed a congressional farm bill and shown my utter contempt for the powers behind the Trayvon Martin verdict all with the swipe of a track pad.

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Turns out the high rise is going up anyway, and the farm bill passed, and Trayvon’s killer walked… but you can be sure I’ll be continuing to express my anger on Facebook and I’ll blog till my fingers bleed…

That is, in between one-click purchasing a new pair of digital headphones to complete the near airtight cocoon I’m building around this chair I love so fucking much. It even has wheels on it, so I can scoot closer to the light switch which I need to turn off before I fall asleep, blissful reclined.

 

 

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Epic America, Happy 273rd

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There’s nothing more patriotic than a July 4th roadtrip up  Rt. 1 along the literal edge of America to put all the miniscule bullshit of your life into immediate perspective.

One thing is certain: in Big Sur, California, you won’t be the only one having an epiphany through your windshield. Everyone looking over those jagged cliffs and into the epic Pacific, or hiking a meticulously maintained trail like the have in Pfeiffer national park, is being similarly awed by mother nature.

800px-Bixby_Creek_Bridge,_California,_USA_-_May_2013RT 1 is a daunting feat of human ambition in itself. Before it existed, Big Sur was a wilderness nearly impossible to access. So who laid down so much asphalt, along the most precarious seaside real estate in the nation, to make such a breathtaking adventure possible? The answer is as American as fat-free, frozen apple pie: Prison labor via San Quentin.

800px-Highway_1_prison_labor_campThree separate camps were established  to house the convicts who worked sunrise to sunset for our vacationing pleasure. There was littel concern about escape since there was only one direction to go… east.  It took those repenting murders and thieves about 18 years, and millions of dollars graciously provided by FDR’s New Deal to finish the job. I personally believe each and everyone of those felons righted their karma by leaving us all with so many memory making vistas. And they were the first see them, without paying camp ground fees!

imagesThose two lanes of United States highway began blowing minds in 1937 when they were officially opened to the public. It’s that very tribute to American ambition, and the criminal justice system, along with the muscle of thousands of wrongdoers, that stands in stark contrast to the nearby Heart Castle. The 240,000 acre abode is another awesome feat of human accomplishment, and only a few acres bigger than the actual man’s Olympian sized ego.

“I get tired of going up there and camping.” Said Hearst between sips of human blood, “I’d like something a little more comfortable.”

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But you weren’t staying over in one of his 56 bedrooms, or taking a dip in the 350,00 gallon Neptune pool, with spring water piped from the Santa Lucia Mountains, unless you were Winston Churchill or Marion Davies. The public be damned, until 1957, when it became a landmark… and a visit is was well worth the wait.

Across the street, on slightly less acreage, sits the home of another set of Sam Simeon mammoths: The North American Elephant Seals. Never have such corpulent, belching, barking slabs of blubber been so damn adorable. It just makes you want to hunt them to extinction, which nearly happened at the end of the 19th century.

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Now the coast is a federally protected sanctuary and a pit stop for families from around the globe. If there were a more pragmatic way to domesticate these peaceful, cuddly marine sloths, there’s no doubt they’d have been exploited en masse throughout the country as must-have pets. Fortunately, there’s no real place to attach a leash, and the jiggling creatures remain undisturbed.

Nature’s true real show stoppers, however, are north and just inland. The Los Padres National Forest is home to some of the most pristine hikes you can take on the continent. The Sequoias looming above  were mere saplings when were were fighting for our Independence, and somehow, we’ve managed not to destroy them in favor of plaster walled condos with ocean views.11

It’s an unfortunate chapter in our heritage that these lands were ripped from the hearts of people that kept them so sacred. Three tribes— the Esselen, the Ohlone, and Salinan— hunted and gathered in these woods for thousands of years. The Spanish were the first to exploit them and claim the lands as as their own, but they did offer some excellent European diseases to which the Natives had no immunities in return. God bless their endeavor.

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Walking through the parks today, you can’t help but smile at one simple truth: Nature always triumphs. And it will continue to do so, long after the human race has managed to obliterate itself in a Zombie Apocalypse.

Condors will nest in the high branches of the central coast’s mighty, middle-aged Redwoods. And entropy will continue it’s relentless death/life cycle just inches from the dramatic crashing waves, along the rugged cliffs of the left coast.

If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend it before California itself tumbles into the sea, which could be any day now. And whatever you do, make sure to leave time for an epiphany or two.

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Human Exceptionalism And The Zombie Apocalypse

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Now that we’ve Zombified ourselves to death in tv and film– Wikipedia lists 641 individual titles– let us pause and contemplate our fascination with the denigration of the human race as we know it.

915What is it about the walking dead chewing through the faces of the few of us left alive that captures our attention so thoroughly? Is it our primordial schadenfreude of seeing the top dog fall, even if it’s our own species? Or does it have to do with our innate appetite for fresh flesh?

One thing the Zombie genre continually illustrates is how thin the facade of “civilization” is. Take away the police, and traffic lights, and the rest of the rules that maintain surface order, and we’re no better than a pack of wild animals.

Slide1629But how insulting to animals is that? They’re not the ones destroying the earth in these movies. They’re rarely as barbaric to each other as we are. They hardly exploit the planet’s resources like we do. And yet, Human Exceptionalism– the idea that we’re somehow superior to every other species– still prevails as a reason to eat them in large quantities.

We flatter ourselves with the belief that the history of the world is the history of human evolution. But isn’t the idea that all this was made for us just a vestige left over from however many religious creeds? Aren’t we ready for more?

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For all of the eye-rolling we do at the salad chomping vegans, they have some pretty common sense arguments concerning the human being’s place in the bigger picture.  Carnivores want to argue that we’re the top of the food chain, as if that were the end of the discussion. We’re more evolved than other animals, because we use language and reason and plan for the future… but so do animals to certain degrees. Don’t whales sing? Aren’t squirrels planning for the future hiding acorns?

coke-ahaWhy exactly is a human life is more important than a cow’s or a chicken’s? Is it because we can talk? Birds can fly and we can’t. How many points do they get for that? Is it because we have intelligence? So do dolphins and octopi and White Tailed Deer: know why they give birth near the highway? It’s not because they like exhaust. Their primary predator, wolves, get hit by cars trying to get to them. Pretty smart strategizing.webwolves

And what if we weren’t at the top of food chain?  What if an alien species lands on  tomorrow to check out how their work on the pyramids is holding up and  decide to stay and enslave us in fattening pens, eventually mass processing us for food? By our own reasoning, it’s justified, because they’re now the superior species, right?

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Wait, no, okay, go back– The reality is, we’re carnivores by nature. It’s how we got to this point in evolution! Our brains evolved because we ate meat. Those thousands of years of protein intake got us to where we are today!

But it’s a false premise. The reality is, we’re omnivores, and more so, the majority of non-human primates are mostly vegetarian. Probably because it’s easier to pick a berry off a tree, than chase after something running like hell to get away from you. Or something that might turn around and kick you in the skull, ending your hungry, brutal life.

2002_gutting_buckI’m curious, in all these debates, how many carnivores have slaughtered, gutted, and cleaned what they’ve eaten? I know the answer for 99 percent of them. And I wonder how much it would change their feelings about what they eat if they did. The truth is, today we can survive, even flourish, without eating meat. And that we used to do it isn’t a reason for continuing to do so.

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We used to enslave people before we abolished it. Why it took so long to is another jeremiad, but let’s just consider for a moment that we may not be as smart a species as we think.

dairy-1Vegans hope to bring some awareness to our current anthropocentric prejudices. Their questions are basic: Are we causing suffering by confining animals in cages? Are we cutting their lives short? Doesn’t every animal want to live as much as we do? Can we admit that our primary justification– that our life is more important– is bogus?

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For the majority of us tearing carelessly through resources in an attempt to make more money and take nicer vacations, I’d argue not really. The planet might be better off with  a few less over-consuming humans and a few more baby lambs, who’s eco-hoof print is nearly nil.

What about the fact that animals eat each other? It’s true, but it’s not what we’re debating.  Animals are not moral agents, and they’re not industrializing slaughter, or wasting what they don’t eat like only humans can do.

khunu-himalayan-yakGranted, if you live in the Himalayas and yaks are the only thing around, you’re going to eat them. Or if it the zombie apocalypse does happen, and a squirrel will get you through the night, then you do it to survive.

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But we’re not talking about life or death circumstances here. And we’re not talking about a limited, or ritualistic consumption of meat every now and then. We’re talking about the mass processing of sentient beings; creatures that feel pain and have wills to live and reproduce and nurture their young and mourn their dead, just like we do– because we have acquired a taste for them.

So it’s not that we’re superior, or that we deserve it, or that it’s just natural.

draft_lens14885931module155317686photo_1321895193Plants_vs_Zombie_AppAnd that will become  clear when the zombies finally arrive.  I am certain someone, somewhere is working on an app for communicating with them. The one that translates, Please don’t eat me and my loved ones because we want to live and  love life, into a series of comprehensible gurgles.attack-of-the-vegan-zombies_med_400

Or maybe, we can reason with them. Tell them being a vegan zombie is not such a bad life choice. There’s enough beans and kale and watermelon for the undead too. And they taste pretty amazing.

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Bother… It’s Easy!

It’s a hackneyed gripe, and the last thing I want is to sound embittered, but I swear to god, I’ll shoot up a CVS the next time I get an enthusiastic promise from someone about something only to be followed down the road by a non-response response.

It happens more and more frequently, and this ain’t about us having thin skin: after multiple seemingly engaging interactions, ones in which plans are discussed, be it personal or business, we end up hearing zilch.

Did they not hear the message? Did the email end up in junk? Are they manic depressive schizoids who say yes, awesome, great! when they really mean, fuck off, you suck, I’m not interested?  I mean, the NSA’s reading my texts.  Why aren’t they?

fragmentation-1Our lives are more fragmented than ever: our attention pulled in so many directions, and though we claim to be more and more linked in, it’s clear that this new modality is having some serious side effects.

We’ve his a point in life where every disaster, every shooting and hurricane, every Arab uprising or political sex scandal, is collectively absorbed by a good part of the world instantaneously.

work.5614641.1.flat,550x550,075,f.full-up-like-a-landfill_largeOur brains may one day evolve to the point where we can process all this blather, but at present it’s causing us all some major glitches, like fatigue and boredom and over commitment and cynicism and error riddled multitasking, and worst of all, a total loss of our sense of wonder.  There’s just no time for that anymore.  Wonderment comes with reflection, but how can you do that in this 24 hour information blitzkrieg?assassinationnewsletter

 

Did nature really intend for us to ingest everything at once?  Is it perversely nostalgic to think about how it took two months for some people to find out Abraham Lincoln was assassinated?news24 blackhole

What irks me most is the new dearth of consideration. It forces you to become cynical out of a sense of self-preservation– so you don’t get our hopes up that something you’d love to see happen actually comes to fruition through a new connection.  Why, with all of this “access”, is communication between people devolving so quickly?

Two recent non-response responses were comical in scale.  One was with a company with whom I worked for nine months.  We spoke several times a week.  Met multiple times.  Made money together.  The project did not end up breaking global return records, but no one was shocked about it.  Over all, it was a well-executed partnership. Months later, an opportunity arose, and a call was placed to share the news, and moreso, the wealth.  No call back.  Maybe they did not get the message. I have about 350 emails from these people.  Let me shoot them an email or four over the next few weeks.

Radio silence………………  Really? …..Wait, wait… Did I miss a cue?  Did I insult someone’s fat assed wife or alcoholic father or slutty girlfriend?  I couldn’t put my finger on any such faux pas. So WTF? …..Nothing??  For whatever reason, after whatever history we had, these people couldn’t bother to hit the reply button and say, hey, no thanks, or not right now, or we’ve all had our tongues cut out over here.

The same thing happened with a lady not long ago.  6 dates with a woman, set up through a close mutual friend, where the attraction was palpable. Things were said, plans were made, DNA exchanged, connections forged in the coils of our gray matter.  It was a tad on the frightening side, in all honestly, and perhaps that had something to do with the sudden, clearly deliberate non-response to any attempt to communicate.

The last communique I received was a gushing morning email about the exciting night before.  How she hadn’t felt so giddy since high school.  And then…. nada…. At first I thought her phone died. Her reply-texts had been instantaneous.  But after unreturned calls, my thoughts turned dark.  Perhaps she was tied to a chair in a basement with electrical tape over her mouth.  Her abductors had smashed her cell phone into pieces.  I would have to find and rescue her.

After not getting any ransom calls, my thoughts turned to death.  Surely, she had been suddenly dragged into the gears of a cross-continental bus and scraped across the country… or hopefully worse.

Imagine my disappointment when I found out she was alive and well: her phone firing on all bars.  The call came from the mutual friend who set us up.  I had begged her to find out what had happened for me.

The girl was not calling back.  It was intentional, and I had to find a place for that in my newly bitch-slapped reality.  Was her boyfriend back in the picture?  Had I been used? Did some deeply twisted part of her say all those things knowing she was going to follow up with silence? Or maybe she was just schizophrenic and I could date the half of her that I know really dug me?

The most fundamental of social intelligence tells us to avoid making enemies.  Why sew seeds of resentment when a moment of simple communication can neutralize any future conflict?  Why send anyone into the questioning conundrum of “wait, what happened?” when the 6 seconds it takes to reach out can put all doubts to rest.  Why burn the bridge with the close mutual friend who set us up? When did saying no thank you become so damn difficult?

Why, with the accessibility of all the handheld devices we have up our collective asses, are we unable to communicate the slightest bit better?  Does all this facility have some adverse/inverse affect like making us lazier or more covetous of privacy?

I know, I know, your “slammed” at work, things are “crazy busy” and you’re “in the weeds”.  Everyone is so ready to spin how busy they are.  But it’s bullshit.  I’m not asking you to sit down at a desk, dip a quill into some ink, compose your thoughts, fold the parchment into an envelope, seal it with wax and walk it to a post office.  I’m asking you to take ten seconds, raise that index finger up, and click reply.

But the moment “relationships” became virtual, the moment that being “friends” with someone could be achieved with a click, was the moment they could be deleted just as easily. Understandably, I can’t find a single human being who hasn’t been at the other end of this phenomenon.  I’ve heard all kinds of time periods for the hurt people feel at not getting a basic response– 2 months, 2 weeks, 2 hours—the reaction is always the same—how could they not even BOTHER.

Free minutes, unlimited SMS, FB, Twitter, Gmail: how difficult is it, really, to tie up loose ends?  How much discomfort are you really facing by replying rather than not?  It’s not like bumping into me at a Wholefoods, or on the 6 train, or at the Stereolab show, where I can throw a beer in your fat face, or kick you in the balls, or hurl epithets at your family.

The perplexing thing is how it ultimately takes more effort not to respond. Things drag it out longer.  You get more texts and calls and emails wondering where you are, and what happened.  Negative vibes increase.  Your karma begins to rot.

Information overload, conceptual imageIs it a symptom of the dreaded post-modern condition that all this technology actually sets us back? Are we caring less cause we’re so overloaded? Or is it about a desperate need for status in  a sea of mutuality?  I don’t have to bother responding to you, so I won’t…  All this connectivity is really the illusion of connection, the illusion of community. It’s the difference between describing a great meal to a friend and actually having one with them.  Only one will leave you satisfied. And that’s what suffers when we can’t be bothered to bother.  Sincere connection is worth more than status, more than money.  How deeply did we connect with each other is what builds cultures.

God, it’s discouraging.  Lowering the bar to “bothering”.  Forget being considerate, or the social Olympus of days gone by, being respectful.  I would never in a million years place that antiquated, extraordinary expectation on people today. Who’s got the time for it?
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