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Thursday, September 10, 2009
SOMETHING ELSE TO WORRY ABOUT
Every day, this fine service called Delancey Place sends me a random piece of information. Today’s is reproduced here, since, when I read it, it gave me a moment of serious pause, but then I got to thinking, what’s 30 thousands years one way of another?
"In the 1960s, while studying the volcanic history of Yellowstone National Park, Bob Christiansen of the United States Geological Survey became puzzled about something: ... he couldn't find the park's volcano. By coincidence just at this time NASA decided to test some new high-altitude cameras by taking photographs of Yellowstone, copies of which some thoughtful official passed on to the park authorities on the assumption that they might make a nice blow-up for one of the visitors' centers. As soon as Christiansen saw the photos he realized why he had failed to spot the [volcano]: virtually the whole park - 2.2 million acres - was [a volcano]. The explosion had left a crater more than forty miles across - much too huge to be perceived from anywhere at ground level. At some time in the past Yellowstone must have blown up with a violence far beyond the scale of anything known to humans. Yellowstone, it turns out, is a supervolcano. It sits on top of an enormous hot spot, a reservoir of molten rock that rises from at least 125 miles down in the Earth. The heat from the hot spot is what powers all of Yellowstone's vents, geysers, hot springs, and popping mud pots. ... Imagine a pile of TNT about the size of Rhode Island and reaching eight miles into the sky, to about the height of the highest cirrus clouds, and you have some idea of what visitors to Yellowstone are shuffling around on top of. Since its first known eruption 16.5 million years ago, [the Yellowstone volcano] has blown up about a hundred times, but the most recent three eruptions are the ones that get written about. The last eruption was a thousand times greater than that of Mount St. Helens; the one before that was 280 times bigger, and the one before was ... at least twenty-five hundred times greater than St. Helens. "The Yellowstone eruption of two million years ago put out enough ash to bury New York State to a depth of sixty-seven feet or California to a depth of twenty. ... All of this was hypothetically interesting until 1973, when ... geologists did a survey and discovered that a large area of the park had developed an ominous bulge. ... The geologists realized that only one thing could cause this - a restless magma chamber. Yellowstone wasn't the site of an ancient supervolcano; it was the site of an active one. It was also at about this time that they were able to work out that the cycle of Yellowstone's eruptions averaged one massive blow every 600,000 years. The last one, interestingly enough, was 630,000 years ago. Yellowstone, it appears, is due." From A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
Click here for more on Delancey Place.
The secret word is Finished
"In the 1960s, while studying the volcanic history of Yellowstone National Park, Bob Christiansen of the United States Geological Survey became puzzled about something: ... he couldn't find the park's volcano. By coincidence just at this time NASA decided to test some new high-altitude cameras by taking photographs of Yellowstone, copies of which some thoughtful official passed on to the park authorities on the assumption that they might make a nice blow-up for one of the visitors' centers. As soon as Christiansen saw the photos he realized why he had failed to spot the [volcano]: virtually the whole park - 2.2 million acres - was [a volcano]. The explosion had left a crater more than forty miles across - much too huge to be perceived from anywhere at ground level. At some time in the past Yellowstone must have blown up with a violence far beyond the scale of anything known to humans. Yellowstone, it turns out, is a supervolcano. It sits on top of an enormous hot spot, a reservoir of molten rock that rises from at least 125 miles down in the Earth. The heat from the hot spot is what powers all of Yellowstone's vents, geysers, hot springs, and popping mud pots. ... Imagine a pile of TNT about the size of Rhode Island and reaching eight miles into the sky, to about the height of the highest cirrus clouds, and you have some idea of what visitors to Yellowstone are shuffling around on top of. Since its first known eruption 16.5 million years ago, [the Yellowstone volcano] has blown up about a hundred times, but the most recent three eruptions are the ones that get written about. The last eruption was a thousand times greater than that of Mount St. Helens; the one before that was 280 times bigger, and the one before was ... at least twenty-five hundred times greater than St. Helens. "The Yellowstone eruption of two million years ago put out enough ash to bury New York State to a depth of sixty-seven feet or California to a depth of twenty. ... All of this was hypothetically interesting until 1973, when ... geologists did a survey and discovered that a large area of the park had developed an ominous bulge. ... The geologists realized that only one thing could cause this - a restless magma chamber. Yellowstone wasn't the site of an ancient supervolcano; it was the site of an active one. It was also at about this time that they were able to work out that the cycle of Yellowstone's eruptions averaged one massive blow every 600,000 years. The last one, interestingly enough, was 630,000 years ago. Yellowstone, it appears, is due." From A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
Click here for more on Delancey Place.
The secret word is Finished
SPACE OPERA
“What happens to levitation, one of the great imaginative figures of art and literature, in the transition from a religious culture to the disenchanted universe of modern science? What becomes of ecstasy, rapture, ascension, transcendence, grace when these give way to “space oddity”: man enclosed in a tin can floating far above the world? Is the cosmonaut a prophet of the erotic future, avatar of man’s stellar renaissance, as Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke once imagined? Or is he like Nietzsche’s madman, proclaiming as Gagarin himself was rumored to have said: “I don’t see any God up here”?
This a comes from the excellent Dangerous Minds, of which our pal Richard Metzger is a regular contributor. Click here to check it out.
This a comes from the excellent Dangerous Minds, of which our pal Richard Metzger is a regular contributor. Click here to check it out.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
WHO NEEDS THE EGG?
I am always pleased when scientific theory sneaks up from behind and confirms what science fiction has been taking for granted for years. I’m even more pleased when the science fiction is my own and the theory is of the kind outlined in this article from a recent New Scientist. (And kindly sent by Valerie.) I have played around with the idea of multiple universes for decades – in psychedelic mode (The DNA Cowboys and Necrom), in theological mode (Jim Morrison’s Adventures In The Afterlife), and in demented short-form (The Adventures Of Marilyn). Now it all proves to be not only highly rational but also on the cutting edge where math meets physics, I find myself unduly and irrationally smug.
“Nothing in the most fundamental laws of physics says that time should only move in one direction. Yet many events are irreversible – shattered eggs do not spontaneously reassemble and ice cubes do not form from pools of tepid water. A new study suggests this arrow of time is the result of quantum mechanical amnesia that erases any trace of such events.
Our sense of time is captured by the second law of thermodynamics, which says that any closed system - from particles in an isolated box to the entire universe - can only become more disordered. The measure of this disorder, known as entropy, can only increase.
In the world of large-scale objects, increasing entropy is associated with the flow of heat, which always goes from a hot object to a colder one. Change in entropy can also be described as a flow of information: the higher the entropy of a system, the less information it contains.” (Click here for more.)
There was also a link in the body of the story to a 2007 piece on parallel universes, but that was an archive article and there’s a fee.
“If you think of yourself as unique, think again. The days when physicists could ignore the concept of parallel universes may have come to an end. If that doesn't send a shudder down your spine, think of it this way: our world is just one of many. You are just one version of many. David Deutsch at the University of Oxford and colleagues have shown that key equations of quantum mechanics arise from the mathematics of parallel universes. "This work will go down as one of the most important developments in the history of science," says Andy Albrecht, a physicist at the University of California at Davis. In one parallel universe, at least, it will - whether it does in our one remains to be seen.”
The secret word is String
“Nothing in the most fundamental laws of physics says that time should only move in one direction. Yet many events are irreversible – shattered eggs do not spontaneously reassemble and ice cubes do not form from pools of tepid water. A new study suggests this arrow of time is the result of quantum mechanical amnesia that erases any trace of such events.
Our sense of time is captured by the second law of thermodynamics, which says that any closed system - from particles in an isolated box to the entire universe - can only become more disordered. The measure of this disorder, known as entropy, can only increase.
In the world of large-scale objects, increasing entropy is associated with the flow of heat, which always goes from a hot object to a colder one. Change in entropy can also be described as a flow of information: the higher the entropy of a system, the less information it contains.” (Click here for more.)
There was also a link in the body of the story to a 2007 piece on parallel universes, but that was an archive article and there’s a fee.
“If you think of yourself as unique, think again. The days when physicists could ignore the concept of parallel universes may have come to an end. If that doesn't send a shudder down your spine, think of it this way: our world is just one of many. You are just one version of many. David Deutsch at the University of Oxford and colleagues have shown that key equations of quantum mechanics arise from the mathematics of parallel universes. "This work will go down as one of the most important developments in the history of science," says Andy Albrecht, a physicist at the University of California at Davis. In one parallel universe, at least, it will - whether it does in our one remains to be seen.”
The secret word is String
THE ADVENTURES OF MARILYN (Supplemental)
In which Marilyn comments to the mirror on the wall. “I frankly don’t understand a word of this. All I know is that it happens. And it happens to me. All the time. So much so that many versions of me went into hiding.”
Click here for The Adventures Of Marilyn
Click here for The Adventures Of Marilyn
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
I GOTTA SIT DOWN FOR A MINUTE
I don’t know how anyone else felt, but I found this last week in Los Angeles verging on brutal. By Thursday I was flagging, and when the Labor Day weekend rolled around, I was more than ready to simply turn off the computer for 48 hours, go into hiding, and remain prone. Still feeling a little queasy, I have sat up and managed to reestablish communications, and will doubtless be back fighting the plutocrats by tomorrow, but, in the meantime, I must catch my breath.
The secret word is Fatigue
The secret word is Fatigue
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
KILLED STONE DEAD
I don’t really know how I feel about this BBC news story sent by Valerie. Brian always seemed to have kind of a death wish, and maybe he should just be left to rest in peace. On the other hand the power of prurience is hard to resist …
“The death of former Rolling Stones guitarist Brian Jones is to be reviewed following new evidence, it has been revealed. Police in Sussex were handed new information connected to the musician's untimely death 40 years ago. Mr Jones, was found dead at the bottom of a swimming pool at a house in Cotchford farm, Hartfield, East Sussex. An inquest recorded a verdict of death by misadventure but speculation continued that he was murdered. A spokesman for Sussex Police said the force had been handed documents connected with Jones's death, prompting the review. But he added it was too early to launch a fresh investigation. He added: "These papers will be examined by Sussex Police, but it is too early to comment at this time as to what the outcome will be."
The cops do not say if this is another go-round of building contractor Frank Thorogood’s 1993 deathbed confession to Brian’s minder Tom Keylock, (also a key figure at Phun City) that was the basis of Terry Rawlings book Who Killed Christopher Robin? and the movie Stoned. Thorogood is reported to have told Keylock “It was me that did Brian. I just finally snapped.”
A somewhat ugly comment in the online edition of Rolling Stone, however, takes a far more sinister tack...
“This is news to me. i feel as if I’ve stepped into a 1969 time warp. Really, did you say! Murdered, did you say!I’ve believed Keith opted for a murder for hire. I’ve read other stories that Richards had people he didn’t like killed.”
“The death of former Rolling Stones guitarist Brian Jones is to be reviewed following new evidence, it has been revealed. Police in Sussex were handed new information connected to the musician's untimely death 40 years ago. Mr Jones, was found dead at the bottom of a swimming pool at a house in Cotchford farm, Hartfield, East Sussex. An inquest recorded a verdict of death by misadventure but speculation continued that he was murdered. A spokesman for Sussex Police said the force had been handed documents connected with Jones's death, prompting the review. But he added it was too early to launch a fresh investigation. He added: "These papers will be examined by Sussex Police, but it is too early to comment at this time as to what the outcome will be."
The cops do not say if this is another go-round of building contractor Frank Thorogood’s 1993 deathbed confession to Brian’s minder Tom Keylock, (also a key figure at Phun City) that was the basis of Terry Rawlings book Who Killed Christopher Robin? and the movie Stoned. Thorogood is reported to have told Keylock “It was me that did Brian. I just finally snapped.”
A somewhat ugly comment in the online edition of Rolling Stone, however, takes a far more sinister tack...
“This is news to me. i feel as if I’ve stepped into a 1969 time warp. Really, did you say! Murdered, did you say!I’ve believed Keith opted for a murder for hire. I’ve read other stories that Richards had people he didn’t like killed.”
WHILE ON THE SUBJECT OF DEATHBED CONFESSIONS, THOUGH…
...I would find a supreme satisfaction and consummate theory closure if the shooter on the Grassy Knoll decided to confess all at the moment of his or her death.
The secret word is Triangulation
THE FROZDICK FAMILY
Euripides and Downie Frozdick had taken fetish to what some considered an absurd extreme.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
UNSUSTAINABLE
(Click the pic to see a larger version.)
It’s very easy for the mind to boggle right now. I turn on the TV and find that the LA fires are moving in on Pasadena and Glendale, and a fine layer of ash covers parked cars, plus a hurricane is coming up the Baja where hurricanes aren’t supposed to be. I switch channels and some zombie-Republican asshole in her Sarah Palin glasses is warning me that the environmentalists have to be stopped before they destroy the country. An email comes from my friend Diva warning me that if Mt Wilson burns, large areas won’t have broadcast TV at all. Another news story is that the appliance corp Whirlpool is shipping a shitload of jobs to Mexico.
Hold it!
I’m in overload.
The evidence is the stench of burning in the air. Capitalism is simply not sustainable. It’s no longer a matter of manufacture, sell, and consume. It’s became an arithmetic abstraction. It’s a numerical narcissism the drives corporate executives to strive for annual bonuses worth more than they could spend in a couple of lifetimes.
Chris Hedges – of whom I’m becoming quite a fan – has a rant on this theme on Truthdig
“Globalization and unfettered capitalism have been swept into the history books along with the open-market theory of the 1920s, the experiments of fascism, communism and the New Deal. It is time for a new economic and political paradigm. It is time for a new language to address our reality.” Click here for the rest.
It has long been my contention that the only real counter to corporate globalism is by international alliances of workers, artists, and activists. We all breath the same air, drink the same water, are warmed and cooled by the same planetary thermo-dynamics, and are poisoned by the same pesticides and growth hormones. Confirmation of how important this is comes from Mother and Doctor, our pals in Bangalore, India. See the item below for what they are doing.
It’s very easy for the mind to boggle right now. I turn on the TV and find that the LA fires are moving in on Pasadena and Glendale, and a fine layer of ash covers parked cars, plus a hurricane is coming up the Baja where hurricanes aren’t supposed to be. I switch channels and some zombie-Republican asshole in her Sarah Palin glasses is warning me that the environmentalists have to be stopped before they destroy the country. An email comes from my friend Diva warning me that if Mt Wilson burns, large areas won’t have broadcast TV at all. Another news story is that the appliance corp Whirlpool is shipping a shitload of jobs to Mexico.
Hold it!
I’m in overload.
The evidence is the stench of burning in the air. Capitalism is simply not sustainable. It’s no longer a matter of manufacture, sell, and consume. It’s became an arithmetic abstraction. It’s a numerical narcissism the drives corporate executives to strive for annual bonuses worth more than they could spend in a couple of lifetimes.
Chris Hedges – of whom I’m becoming quite a fan – has a rant on this theme on Truthdig
“Globalization and unfettered capitalism have been swept into the history books along with the open-market theory of the 1920s, the experiments of fascism, communism and the New Deal. It is time for a new economic and political paradigm. It is time for a new language to address our reality.” Click here for the rest.
It has long been my contention that the only real counter to corporate globalism is by international alliances of workers, artists, and activists. We all breath the same air, drink the same water, are warmed and cooled by the same planetary thermo-dynamics, and are poisoned by the same pesticides and growth hormones. Confirmation of how important this is comes from Mother and Doctor, our pals in Bangalore, India. See the item below for what they are doing.
The secret word is United
VOICES OF THE WATERS
This arrived this morning…
Chairman Mick -- It's been a busy, busy time in Bangalore and we've been tossed around trying to get together an environmental film festival in the backdrop of the goddamn recession. Fuck the corporates, fuck 'em where it hurts the most. In the end it was the city and its good people who came together from the brink of oblivion we return full-fledged, groovy and green. Chairman Mick we seek your blessings for the festival. --
Mother & Doctor
I'm really not too accustomed to giving blessings, but here they are along with all the dope on the festival.
"Bangalore Film Society in association with Alliance Francaise de Bangalore, Svaraj, Finger Lakes Environmental Film Festival, Ithaca College, USA (FLEFF), Charter of Human Responsibilities, Karnataka Chalanachitra Academy, Suchitra Film Society, Federation of film societies of India (Southern Region) and YWCA is proud to present the fourth edition of Bangalore’s biggest environmental Film Festival and the biggest water film festival in the world- Voices from the Waters 2009: 4th International Water Film Festival from the 4th to the 6th September 2009.
Chairman Mick -- It's been a busy, busy time in Bangalore and we've been tossed around trying to get together an environmental film festival in the backdrop of the goddamn recession. Fuck the corporates, fuck 'em where it hurts the most. In the end it was the city and its good people who came together from the brink of oblivion we return full-fledged, groovy and green. Chairman Mick we seek your blessings for the festival. --
Mother & Doctor
I'm really not too accustomed to giving blessings, but here they are along with all the dope on the festival.
"Bangalore Film Society in association with Alliance Francaise de Bangalore, Svaraj, Finger Lakes Environmental Film Festival, Ithaca College, USA (FLEFF), Charter of Human Responsibilities, Karnataka Chalanachitra Academy, Suchitra Film Society, Federation of film societies of India (Southern Region) and YWCA is proud to present the fourth edition of Bangalore’s biggest environmental Film Festival and the biggest water film festival in the world- Voices from the Waters 2009: 4th International Water Film Festival from the 4th to the 6th September 2009.
"From neighborhood ponds to the holy rivers to the oceans- the images of the acclaimed, feted and riveting films from across the globe will take you on a journey through time, place, memories and civilizations in an attempt to rediscover and celebrate water as the source and origin of our lives. We welcome you to add color and noise to the texture of the festival. Without you it’ll just be another screening of films but it is only with you that it will be what it was always intended to be- ‘a festival’"
Click here for more information
Click here for more information
Monday, August 31, 2009
THE VAMPIRE COMPLAINT
“The old neighborhood sure has changed.”
I am very behind with my mail and there are a lot of good friends I should have emailed and haven’t. Much of this neglected mail has been about The Renquist Quartet, my foray into gothic vampire fiction, and how I felt about such a set of highly cinematographic books not being a movie or TV series in this time of so much vampire action in mainstream entertainment.
A couple of weeks ago HCB wrote “I was wondering how you might get your Vamp books revisited in this feeding frenzy.” Around the same time, our pal Peromyscus went even further. “How come you, a man who writes about vampires, is without a book contract in 2009, the year of the vampire? At panels at the Worldcon in 2007, the editors said that vampire-mania had peaked. It appears not. These fads are weird, though. When I was a kid it was all westerns and World War II. Being a kid, I thought that all films and novels had always been westerns and World War II. Now kids must be growing up thinking there are only two kinds of books - ones about young wizards and ones about vampires.”
The answer has to be, of course, that I am not at all overjoyed by the situation, but I’ve been doing this kind of thing long enough to be well aware that sitting around, resentfully fretting about how one isn’t rich and famous after all these years is a short road to madness. The current vampire genre covers a multitude of nosferatu stylings, but far too many are either romance novels with fangs or teen fodder that owes everything to Buffy The Vampire Slayer. This appears to be what sells, and needless to say, I went for something completely different.
In fact, I hurled myself into the four Renquist novels with an inhuman glee, loving the central character and making them a vehicle for exploring a fun spectrum of 20th century folklore that included voodoo houngans, Lovecraftian ancients, Paleolithic alien colonists, Lizard men, Nazi flying saucers, the intelligence community, the hollow Earth, drunken Scotsmen, Marlon Brando, a whole new take on Merlin, and all from the vampires point of view. A pinch of sado-masochism, a new, well researched location for each book, and I figured if folks enjoyed reading the stuff as much as I enjoyed writing it, I had me a winner – even a franchise. I even broke the demarcation between science and magic, espousing the doctrine that magic was only science we had yet to understand. Unfortunately, in so doing, I also broke the arbitrary, publishing house distinction between fantasy and science fiction and this may have been an error.
Maybe I read too much Burroughs and Dick in my formative years, but the publishers started to mutter about how the Renquist books lacked needed teen appeal. I, of course, ignored them. (Teen appeal? Get the fuck outta here.) I preferred to believe the whining was corporate ass-covering of the total lack of promotion and the unholy clusterfuck that had given the books such disastrously lame covers. When I mention the complaint in passing, however, our buddy Faux Smoke responded. “I still think that was some of the stupidest shit I've heard since Bush was still giving speeches... I can hardly believe somebody had the gall to said some bullshit like that to you, if you hadn't wrote it I wouldn't have even entertained the notion.”
I totally agree with him, but it doesn’t change the fact that Johnny Depp isn’t playing Victor in some movie opening Christmas 2009. The Renquist material has been optioned more than once for the screen, but nobody had the juice to get a green-light. (And don’t even mention the studio execs and directors who think it cute to refuse to actually read books.) On the bright side, I have at least been spared the fate of poor old Alan Moore who had to see his brilliant The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen carved to drek in Hollywood. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up the like the revered Philip K. and become rich and famous in the movies a couple of decades after I’m dead.
I hope this does something to clarify matters. (I think I’m allowed to piss and moan every now and then.)
Someone – not me – has created a Wikipedia page for Victor Renquist (Click here)
The secret word is Phlegmatic
I am very behind with my mail and there are a lot of good friends I should have emailed and haven’t. Much of this neglected mail has been about The Renquist Quartet, my foray into gothic vampire fiction, and how I felt about such a set of highly cinematographic books not being a movie or TV series in this time of so much vampire action in mainstream entertainment.
A couple of weeks ago HCB wrote “I was wondering how you might get your Vamp books revisited in this feeding frenzy.” Around the same time, our pal Peromyscus went even further. “How come you, a man who writes about vampires, is without a book contract in 2009, the year of the vampire? At panels at the Worldcon in 2007, the editors said that vampire-mania had peaked. It appears not. These fads are weird, though. When I was a kid it was all westerns and World War II. Being a kid, I thought that all films and novels had always been westerns and World War II. Now kids must be growing up thinking there are only two kinds of books - ones about young wizards and ones about vampires.”
The answer has to be, of course, that I am not at all overjoyed by the situation, but I’ve been doing this kind of thing long enough to be well aware that sitting around, resentfully fretting about how one isn’t rich and famous after all these years is a short road to madness. The current vampire genre covers a multitude of nosferatu stylings, but far too many are either romance novels with fangs or teen fodder that owes everything to Buffy The Vampire Slayer. This appears to be what sells, and needless to say, I went for something completely different.
In fact, I hurled myself into the four Renquist novels with an inhuman glee, loving the central character and making them a vehicle for exploring a fun spectrum of 20th century folklore that included voodoo houngans, Lovecraftian ancients, Paleolithic alien colonists, Lizard men, Nazi flying saucers, the intelligence community, the hollow Earth, drunken Scotsmen, Marlon Brando, a whole new take on Merlin, and all from the vampires point of view. A pinch of sado-masochism, a new, well researched location for each book, and I figured if folks enjoyed reading the stuff as much as I enjoyed writing it, I had me a winner – even a franchise. I even broke the demarcation between science and magic, espousing the doctrine that magic was only science we had yet to understand. Unfortunately, in so doing, I also broke the arbitrary, publishing house distinction between fantasy and science fiction and this may have been an error.
Maybe I read too much Burroughs and Dick in my formative years, but the publishers started to mutter about how the Renquist books lacked needed teen appeal. I, of course, ignored them. (Teen appeal? Get the fuck outta here.) I preferred to believe the whining was corporate ass-covering of the total lack of promotion and the unholy clusterfuck that had given the books such disastrously lame covers. When I mention the complaint in passing, however, our buddy Faux Smoke responded. “I still think that was some of the stupidest shit I've heard since Bush was still giving speeches... I can hardly believe somebody had the gall to said some bullshit like that to you, if you hadn't wrote it I wouldn't have even entertained the notion.”
I totally agree with him, but it doesn’t change the fact that Johnny Depp isn’t playing Victor in some movie opening Christmas 2009. The Renquist material has been optioned more than once for the screen, but nobody had the juice to get a green-light. (And don’t even mention the studio execs and directors who think it cute to refuse to actually read books.) On the bright side, I have at least been spared the fate of poor old Alan Moore who had to see his brilliant The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen carved to drek in Hollywood. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up the like the revered Philip K. and become rich and famous in the movies a couple of decades after I’m dead.
I hope this does something to clarify matters. (I think I’m allowed to piss and moan every now and then.)
Someone – not me – has created a Wikipedia page for Victor Renquist (Click here)
The secret word is Phlegmatic
Sunday, August 30, 2009
DRY SEASON
Sunday afternoon and LA is doing August – 100F+ and fires in the suburbs. I can only fight it with poetry. This poem is not new. I wrote it in 1997 on a day much like this. It was orchestrated by Andy Colquhoun and released as part of the Deviants’ CD, Dr Crow. It will also appear in my up coming collection of poetry and short writing titled Zone Of Chaos, but more about that in approximately two weeks.
A LONG DRY SEASON
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
By the third week, normal sleep had all but become impossible
And, by the fourth, the river was no more than
A sluggish trickle between baking flats of moonscape mud
Dry coughing in dust storms raised by exhausted, brick oven winds
And as the TV gave up the pretense that anything was any more right in the world
Locust cowboys and coyote warriors moved in from the hills
Desperate for a drink
Looking to slake throats of parched and cracked, tooled and studded leather
With the unholy rotgut mescal of the worm
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
Domestic dogs organized in packs
Feeling no longer beholden to their former masters
While green death and pallid yellow aurora arced at night
Over lovers locked and loaded
With the madness of disease taken in substitute for passion
And that would ultimately end in gunfire heard for miles
As sound that carried to infinity in the alkaline air
Across the flatlands and desiccated towns
Like Gene Autry singing someplace out beyond the Gates of Eden
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
High wynding howling of evaporated destiny and melted insulation
Under stars without mercy or even interest
While white foam fungoid puffballs drifted from a perpetually cloudless sky
Like snowballs from hell in the red desert Martian heated quiet
Fragmenting as they struck the hard parched earth
Powering to a diaphanous dust that crept and clung
To the electromagnetic static of relentless commercial appliances
Now wholly unwatched by women with blank purple eyes
And yucca flowers in their hair
Who murmured in dreams of reflecting pools and crystal fountains
And men who searched for the impossibility
Of a cool place on the pillow
To the constant drone of a mosquito fan
Only to find themselves thirst transfixed by the Doombeam
In the hands of an apparition of Captain America
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
A LONG DRY SEASON
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
By the third week, normal sleep had all but become impossible
And, by the fourth, the river was no more than
A sluggish trickle between baking flats of moonscape mud
Dry coughing in dust storms raised by exhausted, brick oven winds
And as the TV gave up the pretense that anything was any more right in the world
Locust cowboys and coyote warriors moved in from the hills
Desperate for a drink
Looking to slake throats of parched and cracked, tooled and studded leather
With the unholy rotgut mescal of the worm
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
Domestic dogs organized in packs
Feeling no longer beholden to their former masters
While green death and pallid yellow aurora arced at night
Over lovers locked and loaded
With the madness of disease taken in substitute for passion
And that would ultimately end in gunfire heard for miles
As sound that carried to infinity in the alkaline air
Across the flatlands and desiccated towns
Like Gene Autry singing someplace out beyond the Gates of Eden
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
High wynding howling of evaporated destiny and melted insulation
Under stars without mercy or even interest
While white foam fungoid puffballs drifted from a perpetually cloudless sky
Like snowballs from hell in the red desert Martian heated quiet
Fragmenting as they struck the hard parched earth
Powering to a diaphanous dust that crept and clung
To the electromagnetic static of relentless commercial appliances
Now wholly unwatched by women with blank purple eyes
And yucca flowers in their hair
Who murmured in dreams of reflecting pools and crystal fountains
And men who searched for the impossibility
Of a cool place on the pillow
To the constant drone of a mosquito fan
Only to find themselves thirst transfixed by the Doombeam
In the hands of an apparition of Captain America
It was a long dry season and we prayed to make it to the rains
ALL AROUND MY BRAIN
Yes neighbours, capitalist absurdity knows no bounds. The energy drink audiciously called “Cocaine” was pulled from U.S. shelves two years ago as a result of the FDA's decision that "Cocaine" was "was illegally marketing the drink as both a street drug alternative and a dietary supplement". Since 2007, Cocaine has been on and off sale, a popular campus joke artifact, and now something silmilar is being distributed in the UK. According to the London tabloid The Sun…
“AN energy drink called "Simply Cocaine" was blasted by anti-drug campaigners yesterday. The drink, with a cartoon character called "Charlie" on the bottle, has double the caffeine content of Red Bull. Excess caffeine drinks can trigger heart problems. But Martin Barnes, of the charity DrugScope, is angry over the name. He said: "This is an intentionally provocative and cynical marketing stunt. Making light of an illegal drug that causes harm isn't smart." A company spokesman said: "Our product is 100 per cent legal, which is more than can be said for some of our MPs."
The secret words are The Real Thing
“AN energy drink called "Simply Cocaine" was blasted by anti-drug campaigners yesterday. The drink, with a cartoon character called "Charlie" on the bottle, has double the caffeine content of Red Bull. Excess caffeine drinks can trigger heart problems. But Martin Barnes, of the charity DrugScope, is angry over the name. He said: "This is an intentionally provocative and cynical marketing stunt. Making light of an illegal drug that causes harm isn't smart." A company spokesman said: "Our product is 100 per cent legal, which is more than can be said for some of our MPs."
The secret words are The Real Thing
SPACE OPERA
The last word on Dejah Thoris before we shelve the subject because somehow an arid Martian, two-moon landscape seems to fit with the mood and the climate.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
PLANET PLUNGES TO FIERY DOOM
Our pal Diva sent us this weekend report from halfway across the galaxy.
“WASHINGTON - Astronomers have found what appears to be a gigantic suicidal planet. The odd, fiery planet is so close to its star and so large that it is triggering tremendous plasma tides on the star. Those powerful tides are in turn warping the planet's zippy less-than-a-day orbit around its star. The result: an ever-closer tango of death, with the planet eventually spiraling into the star. It's a slow death. The planet WASP-18b has maybe a million years to live, said planet discoverer Coel Hellier, a professor of astrophysics at the Keele University in England. Hellier's report on the suicidal planet is in Thursday's issue of the journal Nature. "It's causing its own destruction by creating these tides," Hellier said. The star is called WASP-18 and the planet is WASP-18b because of the Wide Angle Search for Planets team that found them. The planet circles a star that is in the constellation Phoenix and is about 325 light-years away from Earth, which means it is in our galactic neighborhood.” (Click here for more.)
The secret word is Epic
“WASHINGTON - Astronomers have found what appears to be a gigantic suicidal planet. The odd, fiery planet is so close to its star and so large that it is triggering tremendous plasma tides on the star. Those powerful tides are in turn warping the planet's zippy less-than-a-day orbit around its star. The result: an ever-closer tango of death, with the planet eventually spiraling into the star. It's a slow death. The planet WASP-18b has maybe a million years to live, said planet discoverer Coel Hellier, a professor of astrophysics at the Keele University in England. Hellier's report on the suicidal planet is in Thursday's issue of the journal Nature. "It's causing its own destruction by creating these tides," Hellier said. The star is called WASP-18 and the planet is WASP-18b because of the Wide Angle Search for Planets team that found them. The planet circles a star that is in the constellation Phoenix and is about 325 light-years away from Earth, which means it is in our galactic neighborhood.” (Click here for more.)
The secret word is Epic
Friday, August 28, 2009
I AM AN AXOLOTL. PLEASE SAVE ME.
Valerie brings the plight of the axolotl to our much needed attention…
“The amphibian that never grew up is on the verge of going extinct in the wild.
New survey work suggests that fewer than 1,200 Mexican axolotls remain in its last stronghold, the Xochimilco area of central Mexico.
The axolotl is a type of salamander that uniquely spends its whole life in its larval form.
Its odd lifestyle, features and ability to regenerate body parts make it a popular animal kept in labs, schools and as pets.
But in the wild, the future is bleak for this "Peter Pan" of animals.
Recent surveys suggest that between 700 and 1,200 axolotls ( Ambystoma mexicanum ) survive in six reduced and scattered areas within the Xochimilco area of the Mexican Central Valley.
One of these surveys found just a single axolotl in the whole study region.
The long-term survival of the axolotl in the wild has now become critical, and demands urgent action to restore the animal's number and habitat, say scientists monitoring the population.” (Click for the whole story.)
“The amphibian that never grew up is on the verge of going extinct in the wild.
New survey work suggests that fewer than 1,200 Mexican axolotls remain in its last stronghold, the Xochimilco area of central Mexico.
The axolotl is a type of salamander that uniquely spends its whole life in its larval form.
Its odd lifestyle, features and ability to regenerate body parts make it a popular animal kept in labs, schools and as pets.
But in the wild, the future is bleak for this "Peter Pan" of animals.
Recent surveys suggest that between 700 and 1,200 axolotls ( Ambystoma mexicanum ) survive in six reduced and scattered areas within the Xochimilco area of the Mexican Central Valley.
One of these surveys found just a single axolotl in the whole study region.
The long-term survival of the axolotl in the wild has now become critical, and demands urgent action to restore the animal's number and habitat, say scientists monitoring the population.” (Click for the whole story.)
AVOID THIS WOMAN LIKE THE PLAGUE
Obviously we post this warning as a public service and not as just a lame excuse to run yet another bikini pic. (But it did originate from the ever-lascivious HCB, so the bikini pick is kinda mandatory.) I once fell into one of these celeb traps while looking a picture of Lindsay Lohan – I forget why – and found myself swamped by a half million pop-ups for Golden Palace dot com. (I had a similar experience with My Space which is why I now refuse to go near it except as an observer.)
“NEW YORK – Jessica Biel is the most dangerous celebrity on the Web.
Security technology company McAfee Inc. on Tuesday reported that searches for the 27-year-old actress are more likely to lead to online threats such as spyware and viruses than searches for any other celebrity.
McAfee said fans searching for the actress have a one-in-five chance of ending up at a Web site designed to damage one's computer. Its the third annual report on the subject from McAfee, which last year found that Brad Pitt was the "most dangerous" celeb online.
"Cybercriminals are star watchers, too," said Jeff Green, senior vice president of McAfee's product development. "They latch onto popular celebrities to encourage the download of malicious software in disguise."
Following Biel in the report, in order, were Beyonce, Jennifer Aniston, Tom Brady and Jessica Simpson. McAfee noted President Barack Obama and first lady Michelle Obama are curiously safe searches, ranking no. 34 and no. 39, respectively.”
The secret word is Bait
THE FROZDICK FAMILY
Antipathy Frozdick had, with great and determined effort, turned holding a grudge into both a fine art and an exact science.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
REALLY? TRACI LORDS? AS DEJAH THORIS?
What seems to be turning into a Space Opera special began with HCB sending me this snippet by Ken Hulsey.
“Infamous actress Traci Lords, yes the same Traci Lords who did the nasty as an underage porn star and tried her hand at being a trance DJ, has been cast in the upcoming film from The Asylum called "Princess of Mars." I can smell a lawsuit a brewing, because just last month it was announced that Andrew Stanton was directing "Princess of Mars" for Disney. That film is set to star Taylor Kitsch, Willem Dafoe and Lynn Collins as the princess. Both films are based on the Edgar Rice Burroughs's novel by the same name. In fact Burrough's penned several novels about John Carter, a wounded Civil War veteran, who mysteriously finds himself transported to Mars where he encounters savage Martians, strange creatures, a slew of sexy maidens. From what I can gather, the Disney version will stay true to the original story, and the version produced by The Asylum will be a modern redo. I think that it would be safe to assume that Disney would take a more 'family-friendly' approach to the story, while The Asylum would take a more 'colorful' path with Traci Lords. I honestly can't see two films called "Princess of Mars" coming out without there being legal trouble, so guess what? My money is on The Asylum changing the name of their film in the near future to save themselves the hassle.”
And I didn’t like the sound of this at all. Not one little bit. I still don’t. Movie gossip and lawsuits be damned. I am extremely protective of the Edgar Rice Burroughs's Mars novels – what’s know as the Barsoom series. You can do what you like with Tarzan or Pellucidar, but hands off Barsoom. ERB wrote Princess of Mars – the first of an eleven book series - in 1911, and, decades later, it was one of the first pieces of fiction that I ever read – in the immediate wake of Dan Dare and Biggles, and well before Mickey Spillane. Set on the kind of dying desert Mars, beloved by any dreaming schoolboy, the one imagined by astronomer-crazy Percival Lowell, with the last of its dwindling water flowing from the exhaused polar icecap along the network of ancient canals, while sword weilding aliens conducted tribal warfare. Wikipedia described the plot thusly. (When contemplating ERB, one tends to use words like thusly)…
“John Carter, a Confederate American Civil War veteran, goes prospecting in Arizona and, when set upon by Indians, is mysteriously transported to Mars, called "Barsoom" by its inhabitants. Carter finds that he has great strength on this planet, due to its lesser gravity. Carter soon falls in among the Tharks, a nomadic tribe of the planet's warlike, four-armed, green inhabitants. Thanks to his strength and combat abilities he rises in position in the tribe and earns the respect and eventually the friendship of Tars Tarkas, one of the Thark chiefs. The Tharks subsequently capture Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, a member of the humanoid red Martian race. The red Martians inhabit a loose network of city states and control the desert planet's canals, along which its agriculture is concentrated. Carter rescues her from the green men to return her to her people…etc, etc”
(Click here for the whole deal.)
The secret word is Jeddak
DEJAH VIEW
Another attraction for the grubby schoolboy was that Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, didn’t wear any clothes. ECB’s first describes her (again) thusly…
“And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past life....Her face was oval and beautiful in the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite, her eyes large and lustrous and her head surmounted by a mass of coal black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange yet becoming coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect. She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who accompanied her; indeed, save for her highly wrought ornaments she was entirely naked, nor could any apparel have enhanced the beauty of her perfect and symmetrical figure.”
“And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past life....Her face was oval and beautiful in the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite, her eyes large and lustrous and her head surmounted by a mass of coal black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange yet becoming coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect. She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who accompanied her; indeed, save for her highly wrought ornaments she was entirely naked, nor could any apparel have enhanced the beauty of her perfect and symmetrical figure.”
BUT IN THE SERIOUS WORLD...
The last of the Kennedy Brothers has gone, and an era has ended. Camelot fades to unconnected legend. I can't say anything more. The TV has already said too much.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
SHALL WE CUT THE CRAP?
Shall we all just stop messing around? Will politicians and the media can the mealy-mouthed acceptance of right wing assholes doing their level damnedest to throw this country into chaos by toting AR15s into public meetings? Shall we stop pretending that any of this is about healthcare or even conventional party politics? All the Fox/Palin/Glenn Beck bullshit, the white trash whining about how they want their country “back the way it was”, the constitutional crap about the First and Second Amendments, the president’s citizenship, the Obama-is-Hitler nonsense, FEMA camps, pulling the plug on Grandma, and all the rest of the orchestrated poison is nothing more than a choreographed campaign by wholly unscrupulous corporate interests and their bought-and-sold communication creatures to steer the nation into maximum-profit, free-enterprise fascism by exploiting a single but hideously deep seated lumpen fear. Barack Obama is the first black president, and a culturally challenged segment of the nation just can’t handle that. The heart of the matter is a Neanderthal racist rage that should have been left in the 20th century and not seized as a tool by intellectually and morally bankrupt political shills. Some of you may object to my use of a Klan picture. Too bad. As far as I’m concerned it’s the symbolic visual of this shameful and shamelessly pandered-to mindset.
The secret word is Rant
Ted Kennedy -- RIP
The secret word is Rant
Ted Kennedy -- RIP
GOTHS OF SUMMER
I have commented more than once to friends and acquaintances about how hard it’s gotta staying Goth in LA. When the mercury’s in the nineties, it can’t be comfortable to dress like Count Dracula or one of his leather-corset, Venus-in-furs, vampire brides. And then I stumbled across a website dedicated to making exactly that point. Click here for Goths In Hot Weather.
DOC'S PAPERBACK CLASSIC'S # 61
As Ned Sublette once remarked – “Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other, what did you think those saddles and boots was about? There's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels towards his brother, inside every cowboy there's a lady who'd love to slip out.”
And by way of a bonus, click here for Ned’s Cu-bop version of “Riders In The Sky."
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
DON’T NEED NO DOCTOR/DOCTOR CAN’T DO ME NO GOOD
So the death of Michael Jackson has been deemed a homicide and, if this was a movie, all the telltale signs point to the doctor, who seems to have been feeding the poor boy enough drugs to make Elvis look positively abstemious. Although doctors are popularly represented as selfless angels of mercy, but I’ve never been totally convinced. Too many of the doctors that I’ve encountered in the USA (and a few Brits for that matter) have seemed judgmental and lamentably out of touch with the culture in which they operate. And worse. Count all the worthless plastic surgeons, while the fictional Dr Benway is in the lifeboat with the women and children. Or remember the real-life Dr Brody sitting in the cruel neon of a 24-hour pharmacy, writing scripts for methamphetamine. And, on a more general level, consider all the physicians in comfortable and lucrative cahoots with the pharm corps and HMOs, and how they buttress a system that has killed at least one of my nearest and dearest and may break a few more before it’s reformed
On Truthdig Chris Hedges elaborates on a related theme…
“Capitalists, as my friend Father Michael Doyle says, should never be allowed near a health care system. They hold sick children hostage as they force parents to bankrupt themselves in the desperate scramble to pay for medical care. The sick do not have a choice. Medical care is not a consumable good. We can choose to buy a used car or a new car, shop at a boutique or a thrift store, but there is no choice between illness and health. And any debate about health care must acknowledge that the for-profit health care industry is the problem and must be destroyed. This is an industry that hires doctors and analysts to deny care to patients in order to increase profits. It is an industry that causes half of all bankruptcies. And the 20,000 Americans who died last year because they did not receive adequate care condemn these corporations as complicit in murder.
The current health care debate in Congress has nothing to do with death panels or public options or socialized medicine. The real debate, the only one that counts, is how much money our blood-sucking insurance, pharmaceutical and for-profit health services are going to be able to siphon off from new health care legislation. The proposed plans rattling around Congress all ensure that the profits for these corporations will increase and the misery for ordinary Americans will be compounded. The corporate state, enabled by both Democrats and Republicans, is yet again cannibalizing the Treasury. It is yet again pushing Americans, especially the poor and the working class, into levels of despair and rage that will continue to fuel the violent, proto-fascist movements leaping up around the edges of American society. And the traditional watchdogs—those in public office, the press and citizens groups—are as useless as the perfumed fops of another era who busied their days with court intrigue at Versailles. Canada never looked so good.” (Click here for the whole rant)
The secret word is Malpractice
On Truthdig Chris Hedges elaborates on a related theme…
“Capitalists, as my friend Father Michael Doyle says, should never be allowed near a health care system. They hold sick children hostage as they force parents to bankrupt themselves in the desperate scramble to pay for medical care. The sick do not have a choice. Medical care is not a consumable good. We can choose to buy a used car or a new car, shop at a boutique or a thrift store, but there is no choice between illness and health. And any debate about health care must acknowledge that the for-profit health care industry is the problem and must be destroyed. This is an industry that hires doctors and analysts to deny care to patients in order to increase profits. It is an industry that causes half of all bankruptcies. And the 20,000 Americans who died last year because they did not receive adequate care condemn these corporations as complicit in murder.
The current health care debate in Congress has nothing to do with death panels or public options or socialized medicine. The real debate, the only one that counts, is how much money our blood-sucking insurance, pharmaceutical and for-profit health services are going to be able to siphon off from new health care legislation. The proposed plans rattling around Congress all ensure that the profits for these corporations will increase and the misery for ordinary Americans will be compounded. The corporate state, enabled by both Democrats and Republicans, is yet again cannibalizing the Treasury. It is yet again pushing Americans, especially the poor and the working class, into levels of despair and rage that will continue to fuel the violent, proto-fascist movements leaping up around the edges of American society. And the traditional watchdogs—those in public office, the press and citizens groups—are as useless as the perfumed fops of another era who busied their days with court intrigue at Versailles. Canada never looked so good.” (Click here for the whole rant)
The secret word is Malpractice
SPACE OPERA (It couldn’t get much wurst)
Yes, neighbors, it’s the USS Enterprise constructed entirely from pork products and toothpicks.
Monday, August 24, 2009
THE DOPAMINERGIC CLICHÉ
I was about to go to bed when the daily email came in from Delancey Place and, after the recent riff on medicinal acid, I figured the coincidence warranted running this bit on dopamine, it being the source of so much that is dear to me.
"The importance of dopamine was discovered by accident. In 1954, James Olds and Peter Milner, two neuroscientists at McGill University, decided to implant an electrode deep into the center of a rat's brain. The precise placement of the electrode was largely happenstance; at the time, the geography of the mind remained a mystery. But Olds and Milner got lucky. They inserted the needle right next to the nucleus accumbens (NAcc), a part of the brain that generates pleasurable feelings. Whenever you eat a piece of chocolate cake, or listen to a favorite pop song, or watch your favorite team win the World Series, it is your NAcc that helps you feel so happy. "But Olds and Milner quickly discovered that too much pleasure can be fatal. They placed the electrodes in several rodents' brains and then ran a small current into each wire, making the NAccs continually excited. The scientists noticed that the rodents lost interest in everything. They stopped eating and drinking. All courtship behavior ceased. The rats would just huddle in the corners of their cages, transfixed by their bliss. Within days, all of the animals had perished. They died of thirst."It took several decades of painstaking research, but neuroscientists eventually discovered that the rats had been suffering from an excess of dopamine. The stimulation of the NAcc triggered a massive release of the neurotransmitter, which overwhelmed the rodents with ecstasy. In humans, addictive drugs work the same way: a crack addict who has just gotten a fix is no different than a rat in an electrical rapture. The brains of both creatures have been blinded by pleasure. This, then, became the dopaminergic cliché; it was the chemical explanation for sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
Click here to learn more about Delancey Place
The secret word is Bliss
"The importance of dopamine was discovered by accident. In 1954, James Olds and Peter Milner, two neuroscientists at McGill University, decided to implant an electrode deep into the center of a rat's brain. The precise placement of the electrode was largely happenstance; at the time, the geography of the mind remained a mystery. But Olds and Milner got lucky. They inserted the needle right next to the nucleus accumbens (NAcc), a part of the brain that generates pleasurable feelings. Whenever you eat a piece of chocolate cake, or listen to a favorite pop song, or watch your favorite team win the World Series, it is your NAcc that helps you feel so happy. "But Olds and Milner quickly discovered that too much pleasure can be fatal. They placed the electrodes in several rodents' brains and then ran a small current into each wire, making the NAccs continually excited. The scientists noticed that the rodents lost interest in everything. They stopped eating and drinking. All courtship behavior ceased. The rats would just huddle in the corners of their cages, transfixed by their bliss. Within days, all of the animals had perished. They died of thirst."It took several decades of painstaking research, but neuroscientists eventually discovered that the rats had been suffering from an excess of dopamine. The stimulation of the NAcc triggered a massive release of the neurotransmitter, which overwhelmed the rodents with ecstasy. In humans, addictive drugs work the same way: a crack addict who has just gotten a fix is no different than a rat in an electrical rapture. The brains of both creatures have been blinded by pleasure. This, then, became the dopaminergic cliché; it was the chemical explanation for sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
Click here to learn more about Delancey Place
The secret word is Bliss
ROBERT MITCHUM TRIVIA
Earlier in the night another mildly weird thing happened. I was watching – by default – a movie called Chop Suey by photographer Bruce Weber, in which, without any explanation, was a short clip of Robert Mitchum and Dr John, recording the tune “When It’s Sleepy Time Down South.” Hardly believing it, I looked for some other reference but found none, so all I can do is to pass the snippet on for what it’s worth.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
THE TRIP MEDICINAL
Munz sent us the following intriguing report about a reevaluation of LSD as a therapeutic agent. It’s interesting, although, having seen, first hand, how badly squares behave on acid, I do have my misgivings.
“For the first time in four decades, the government is cracking open the door to studies looking into the medical benefits of LSD. The watershed moment came last September, when the FDA approved a clinical trial on the use of LSD to treat anxiety in cancer patients. According to the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (or MAPS), it was the first time since the 1960s that a medical study involving LSD was permitted by the federal government. MAPS Director Rick Doblin called it “a symbol that the psychedelic renaissance is here.” (Click here for the whole story.)
The secret word is God
“For the first time in four decades, the government is cracking open the door to studies looking into the medical benefits of LSD. The watershed moment came last September, when the FDA approved a clinical trial on the use of LSD to treat anxiety in cancer patients. According to the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (or MAPS), it was the first time since the 1960s that a medical study involving LSD was permitted by the federal government. MAPS Director Rick Doblin called it “a symbol that the psychedelic renaissance is here.” (Click here for the whole story.)
The secret word is God
GRATUITOUS BARDOT
It’s another picture of Brigitte for absolutely no other reason than maybe because it’s Saturday. This time she’s wearing shades.
Friday, August 21, 2009
IN THE CAPITALIST TWILIGHT
As wave after wave of demented Astroturf absolutism crash over Barack Obama, and morons tote AR14s to town meetings, while, at the other end of the rainbow, we on the left feel we are being progressively sold out to a hollow and corrupt center, I still cannot quite bring myself to abandon the president after just a matter of months. My sense of loyalty demands better. It did, however, occur to me that Obama might well be – in the long run of history – playing the role of America’s Mikhail Gorbachev. Gorbachev was a communist who eased Russia into a soft landing in the next phase as post-Stalinist socialism disintegrated, and, in the same way, Obama is a capitalist who could well be ultimately smoothing the way to a brave new nation as the foundations of 21st century capitalism crumble and fail.
The only problem is that when the Soviet Union fell, it had a ready-made ideological airbag in the form of its own distorted version of bare knuckle free enterprise, with the Moscow mafia attending the confinement as midwives. As capitalism in the USA ceases to be sustainable, there is no obvious replacement system and it may have to be made up as it goes along. Plainly the most viable bet would be on a form of digital neo-socialism with software substituted for the bureaucracy that was the downfall of so many old-style soviets. Unfortunately, if the recent rightwing shenanigans are an indication, massive destabilizing pressure will be exerted to panic the population into lumpen TV-driven fascism fronting for an authoritarian corporate totalitarianism – Orwell with Twinkies and Twitter. But lets not forget how, in Russia, it took tanks in the streets to make the Evil Empire safe for Pepsi and Burger King. This may not be easy.
Similar sentiments – but without the gonzo flamboyance – are expressed by Robert Kuttner writing in The Washington Post.
“When economically stressed and frightened people are anxious and sullen, you never know who will capture their fears and hopes. In the 1930s, economic anxiety produced leaders as different as Franklin Roosevelt and Adolf Hitler. History shows that if the reformist left doesn't offer a plausible story and strategy of reform, the lunatic right will gain ground even with an implausible one. So where are the liberal protesters? The initiative has passed to the know-nothing right for two big reasons.” (Click here for the whole thing.)
The secret word is Transition
The only problem is that when the Soviet Union fell, it had a ready-made ideological airbag in the form of its own distorted version of bare knuckle free enterprise, with the Moscow mafia attending the confinement as midwives. As capitalism in the USA ceases to be sustainable, there is no obvious replacement system and it may have to be made up as it goes along. Plainly the most viable bet would be on a form of digital neo-socialism with software substituted for the bureaucracy that was the downfall of so many old-style soviets. Unfortunately, if the recent rightwing shenanigans are an indication, massive destabilizing pressure will be exerted to panic the population into lumpen TV-driven fascism fronting for an authoritarian corporate totalitarianism – Orwell with Twinkies and Twitter. But lets not forget how, in Russia, it took tanks in the streets to make the Evil Empire safe for Pepsi and Burger King. This may not be easy.
Similar sentiments – but without the gonzo flamboyance – are expressed by Robert Kuttner writing in The Washington Post.
“When economically stressed and frightened people are anxious and sullen, you never know who will capture their fears and hopes. In the 1930s, economic anxiety produced leaders as different as Franklin Roosevelt and Adolf Hitler. History shows that if the reformist left doesn't offer a plausible story and strategy of reform, the lunatic right will gain ground even with an implausible one. So where are the liberal protesters? The initiative has passed to the know-nothing right for two big reasons.” (Click here for the whole thing.)
The secret word is Transition
But, by way of an antidote to Fox, here are some clips. Viddy well my droogs.
Click here for the trailer of Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story
Click here for vintage Richard Pryor as 40th President of the US.
And click here for the final word on healthcare
Click here for the trailer of Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story
Click here for vintage Richard Pryor as 40th President of the US.
And click here for the final word on healthcare
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Thursday, August 20, 2009
A NASTY PIECE OF HARDWARE
Our commenting pal Ghostwoods alerted us the highly disturbing revelation that cops in the UK are now deploying this eye-in-the-sky remote-controlled "flying saucer" as one more piece of Big Brother tech in their surveillance arsenal. It’s first public outing was at the neo-Nazi British National Party's Red, White and Blue festival in Codnor, Derbyshire, where “anti-fascist protesters had assembled.” I recall a piece of science fiction where the protagonists shot down similar mini spy saucers with their blasters. I can’t remember without checking whether I wrote it myself, or maybe it was Philip K. Dick, or even a Vaughn Bode cartoon.
According to the London Daily Telegraph…
“Merseyside Police was the first force to use the drones, launching them during a number of crackdowns on gun and gang crime, as well as against anti-social behaviour. The aerial cameras have also previously been deployed to deter crime at pop festivals. Yesterday was the first time it was used at a demonstration. Their capacity to provide extra video evidence could prove useful to police forces which face allegations about their public order tactics, and about differing versions of major events such as London's G20 protests in April.” Click here for the rest.
Anti-social behaviour? Demonstrations? Pop festivals? On the surface, it would seem that the jaws of the vice are closing and, like fucking sheep, we are being corralled into a culture of slavish obedience to authority, but I retain some hope and faith the human capacity for fuck-you deceit. Maybe masks with become a fashion vogue (we may also need them to breath the air before too long) and we’ll all start wearing them like in V for Vendetta or – if you’re old enough to remember – the Nazi-fighting Deathless Men in the old brit comic The Wizard (which I suspect Alan Moore borrowed for V for V.)
According to the London Daily Telegraph…
“Merseyside Police was the first force to use the drones, launching them during a number of crackdowns on gun and gang crime, as well as against anti-social behaviour. The aerial cameras have also previously been deployed to deter crime at pop festivals. Yesterday was the first time it was used at a demonstration. Their capacity to provide extra video evidence could prove useful to police forces which face allegations about their public order tactics, and about differing versions of major events such as London's G20 protests in April.” Click here for the rest.
Anti-social behaviour? Demonstrations? Pop festivals? On the surface, it would seem that the jaws of the vice are closing and, like fucking sheep, we are being corralled into a culture of slavish obedience to authority, but I retain some hope and faith the human capacity for fuck-you deceit. Maybe masks with become a fashion vogue (we may also need them to breath the air before too long) and we’ll all start wearing them like in V for Vendetta or – if you’re old enough to remember – the Nazi-fighting Deathless Men in the old brit comic The Wizard (which I suspect Alan Moore borrowed for V for V.)
And talking of sheep…
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