On Many Modern-Day Americans

15 Jul

I’ve learned many things about many modern-day Americans in the wake of the Zimmerman verdict:

  • Many modern-day Americans maintain a pre-Civil-Rights-Era view on race relations.  If you’re black, and probably a young black man in particular, you are to be docile.  If a white man approaches you, be respectful, do as he instructs, say “yes sir, no sir.”  Don’t make any sudden movements.  If he follows you around at night, armed, understand he is just looking out everyone’s best interest.  Don’t do anything to make him more afraid than he already is.  You think this is not fair?  Well, you should be more sympathetic to how scary you are.
  • Many modern-day Americans think it’s ok to view young black men as inherently threatening.  Understand that your manner of dress, your physical size and muscularity (if you dare have it), etc., may scare white people.  Take careful note that IT IS NOT YOUR SKIN COLOR they fear.  Whites are color-blind about this, it’s everything else about you except that (that would be racist, which they’re not).
  • Many modern-day Americans think it is unacceptable, however, for blacks to ever see concerned whites as threatening, and if they do not remain docile (see above), they should understand the consequences.  For proud whites, self-defense is a basic human right (like carrying a concealed firearm).  Blacks needs to understand that fighting back is NOT self-defense if accosted by a white, because they are the instigators in the first place with their inherent scariness, their “thuggish” appearance, their known proclivity for criminality, etc.  I mean, what is a white to do?*
  • Many modern-day Americans call black teens with no criminal records “thugs.”  They do this, they say, because of their chosen “look” (probably too “hip-hop”), and because they have trace amounts of marijuana on them and have maybe gotten in trouble at school (or because they have been boastful and macho on Twitter).  This isn’t “normal” teen-boy behavior, like white teen boys exhibit, that they will eventually grow out of.  White boys like guns because they are passionate about their constitutional rights and being good Americans.  White boys like pot because all teens have possessed a trace amount of marijuana at some point.  Black teens like guns and pot as an expression of innate, inner thuggery and a disrespect for law and order (and common decency) encouraged by their culture.  Many modern-day Americans believe this key difference justifies the death of these black teens almost regardless of any other factors or context.  The young thugs aren’t really even human, they are dangerous animals, they are beyond redemption, and it’s better to put them down sooner rather than later.
  • Many modern-day Americans believe that black families do not mourn the loss of their loved ones if they are killed by someone black.  They feel that black people only care about friends and family unexpectedly taken from them when a white person does it.  In that sense, their mourning is really mostly about sticking it to whites, rather then a genuine feeling of momentous loss like whites feel when they lose a loved one*.  This is unfair to whites (see below).
  • Most disturbingly, many modern-day Americans believe, that just like with the N word, that the fact that sometimes black people do kill other black people means it’s ok to kill black people generally.  Not until all black people stop killing other black people should white people have to stop too.  It’s hypocrisy after all, why do they get to do it and it’s no big deal, but we can’t?
  • Many modern-day Americans believe in an absolute right to gun ownership and self-defense.  You can seek out threats and confront them.  You have an absolute right to protect you and yours.  The deadlier the better.  If you’re white that is.  If you’re black, gun ownership makes you a “thug” and a criminal (black + gun is not the constitutional victory that white + gun is).  Defending yourself in any way is reason for you to be put down.  You are to be docile.  White rights are expansive.  Black rights are very narrow.  Find this frustrating?  Well, until you convince every other black person in America to be the way I want them to be (whatever that is; see below), you’ll have to deal.  That seems fair.
  • One would be forgiven then for assuming that many modern-day Americans would be happy if young black men all dressed like Carlton and were “clean” and “articulate” and studious and academic and physically meek and didn’t do suspicious things like be out so late for so-called “snacks” (white teens don’t do this; white teens are widely known to go bed early and not crave junkfood).  However, this same community has been less than enthusiastic about embracing Barack Obama, black academia, and basically any black people who aren’t athletes, musicians, comics, or movie stars.  It turns out, if you don’t adhere to the white-normative expectation, you are a thug and threat to my life/safety (unless you are a professional athlete, in which case, stay a safe distance away and entertain me).  If you more closely align with the white-normative ideal, but are black, you are a wimp, a joke, probably an affirmative-action case, and a threat to my job (unless you are a musician (non-rap; if rap, see above about “thugs”) or a movie star, in which case, just be docile and entertain me).  One would be forgiven for seeing this as a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” scenario/Catch 22 for black men.
  • Many modern-day Americans don’t see anything wrong with piling extreme amounts of negative scrutiny on everything a black person does, even black juveniles.  They are ok with the situation being that blacks have a constant affirmative obligation to prove potential negative presumptions wrong, even as adolescents.  There should be little room for error, after all, each black is on thin ice given the prior bad acts of blacks generally.  If they slip-up, the death penalty seems appropriate.  It is also ok to do the opposite and always assume the best of non-blacks.  This will be ok until all blacks together do everything to dispel every negative presumption whites have.  This is not racist, this is just statistics, and being sensible (but holding whites accountable for prior bad acts of whites? living in the past! the race card! reverse racism! get. over. it. people.).
  • Many modern-day Americans are fucking hateful idiots.

* When a black approaches you at night, you can be sure what’s up.  When a white approaches, however, take a bifurcated approach depending on your race: (1) if you are white, do whatever you want (duh); (2) if you are black, stay put, put your hands up to show you are unarmed, don’t sass or talk back or be disrespectful (certainly don’t use your “ebonics”; few things inflame white men more than this butchery of their precious English language), and work with the white until the white feels non-threatened enough to let you go.

* When a black mother loses her son, gunned down in his prime, she is likely to inquire about the race of the murderer.  If the murderer is black, she is likely to not care about the loss of her son.  If the murderer is white, you can bet she will suddenly “make a big deal about it.”


Reefer Madness

11 Jul

I don’t know if you saw the latest ludicrous pile of horseshit to drop out of the government ass update on the progress toward sensible marijuana regulation at the Federal level, but I highly encourage you to read at least the first few pages of this new Department of Justice report denying a petition to reschedule marijuana to any lower category than its current Schedule I status.  As a quick review, Schedule I means that the substance in question poses a substantial risk, even when used under medical supervision, and has no acceptable medical purpose.  Other Schedule I drugs include heroin and crystal meth.  Cocaine is a Schedule II drug, showing, according to our trusty gov’t, that cocaine is both more useful and less dangerous than pot.  It’s 2011 and we are expected to take seriously an institution which continues to justify classifying cannabis to be as dangerous and without usefulness as crystal meth?  I don’t even know where to begin with this nonsense, so I might as well comment on each of the disingenuous conclusions reached on the three key determinations for drug scheduling (the DoJ rejected medical marijuana on all factors):

1. Potential for Abuse

The FDA report basically cites the staggering number of people who use marijuana as evidence that its potential for abuse is unacceptable.  No word on whether sheer popularity is proof that Lipitor, Viagra, Prozac, Ritalin, or whatever-the-fuck else also makes them unacceptably dangerous, but the gov’t concludes: marijuana is not legal, therefore all use is abuse, and therefore it should not be legal (get used to this reasoning).  There is zero factual evidence presented that among all those users, a large or even measurable number experience addiction or serious negative consequences, or what “abuse” even means or how that’s different from “use” in this case.  Nevertheless, the potential for “abuse” is unacceptably higher than for cocaine or OxyContin , or so says the DoJ.

A typical glaucoma patient after receiving their medical marijuana treatment (image courtesy of the United States Department of Justice).

2. Acceptable Medical Use

On the next scheduling factor, the report states simply that there is no currently acceptable medical use for cannabis.  What is this conclusion based on?  The presented rationale seems reasonable at first: medical professionals disagree, and at this time there are no FDA-approved cannabis-based medical solutions.  Fair enough, but is that the whole story?  Well, not exactly.  It turns out the disagreement in the medical community is more along the lines of that there is no scientific consensus that marijuana has useful medical properties, which makes potential medical applications for marijuana about as outlandish and controversial as evolution, and only slightly more so than gravity and heliocentricity.  And what about there being no FDA-approved cannabis-based medicinal applications*?  It also turns out that because marijuana is an illegal, Schedule I controlled substance, the FDA rarely if ever approves medications, trials, or studies for it or any other Schedule I drugs, because after all, they’re extremely dangerous and have no value.  There aren’t many rigid drug trials being conducted on crystal meth either.  So, “there is no currently FDA-approved use” of cannabis is a complete red herring.  Marijuana can’t be rescheduled because its current scheduling makes it impossible to determine, to the government’s satisfaction, whether it’s useful or relatively safe, even though reams of longitudinal colloquial evidence seem to suggest it is.  And what about the thousands if not millions of patients and doctors who do assess and experience medical benefits from cannabis?  The sheer number of users is dispositive as to its abuse potential, but are sheer numbers relevant to its medical potential?  Nope.

The next knock against marijuana’s medicinal promise: basically, that it’s a natural growing plant and not a pharmaceutical chemical.  The report cites lacks of standardized sources, standardized potency, and guarantees of no contamination as reasons why pot cannot be an acceptable medication.  So, because you can grow it and you don’t have to buy it from a pharmaceutical company’s laboratory, there is no way to do proper quality control.  This wouldn’t be a completely corrupt concern if the report conceded that, were marijuana to be rescheduled, it would certainly be possible to create well-regulated lines of growth and supply which could be monitored for contaminants and potency.  But it doesn’t, it just states that there currently is no such system, therefore, there never can be.  However, this “fact,” even in its myopic self-servitude, isn’t even true.  Probably the most odious aspect of this entire report is that it fails to acknowledge, at all, that these controlled systems are in fact already happening around the country where cannabis has been approved for medicinal use at the state level.  It doesn’t identify issues or problems with these systems (and I’m sure there are some to honestly discuss and improve upon), it straight up pretends they don’t exist.

Zombie apocalypse or a medical marijuana dispensary, can you tell the difference? Is there one? "No" - Department of Justice.

3. Health Risk

The DoJ report repeatedly cites this statistic which bears further analysis: 10% of total drug-related ER admissions are “marijuana-related” (200,000 out of 2 million, according to DAWN, the Drug Abuse Warning Network).  On its face, this seems suspicious to me.  It’s widely known that it is both literally impossible to overdose on pot and that there is nothing medical intervention can do for you if you’re too fucking high and handling it like a chump.  The report doesn’t specifically state what the “marijuana-related ER admissions” were for, whether they were co-morbid with any other issues, whether the hospital actually treated the patient in any way, and most tellingly, what exactly the consequences would have been if the person had not gone to the hospital.  Ah, but the plot thickens.  Buried somewhere deep in the report it prefaces this statistic with:

Some drug users may have visited EDs for a variety of reasons, some of which may have been life-threatening, whereas others may have sought care at the ED for detoxification because they needed certification before entering treatment. DAWN data do not distinguish the drug responsible for the ED visit from others used concomitantly. As stated in a recent DAWN report, “Since marijuana/hashish is frequently present in combination with other drugs, the reason for the ED contact may be more relevant to the other drug(s) involved in the episode.”

Alright, so the crucial statistic upon which one of the major conclusions of this important determination was based on is… pretty much worthless.  What percentage of admittees also had recently ingested food, drank water, smoked cigarettes, or watched TV?  This just in: 100% of drug-related ER admissions are co-morbid with water use!  To make matters worse, apparently those urgent life-saving ER admissions are made up disproportionately by children under 18 and from the ages of 18-20.  Basically, kids who don’t know what they’re doing get pot and feel different than they do normally and freak out and their parents take them to the emergency room where they get a saline IV and sit for 2 hours to calm the fuck down for $5,000.  And this is why pot is as dangerous as heroin and crystal meth.  If you want to read something really scary, look at the number of hospitalizations for liver failure that are attributed to OTC acetaminophen, aka Tylenol, use.  What about the health risks posed from fucking EATING FOOD, driving a car, or enduring environmental pollutants day in and day out?

Oh, the report also mentions that people don’t do as well on cognitive and performance tests while high (although they also note, apparently irrelevantly, that performance rebounds once the effects of marijuana wear off, and that even heavy users do not experience any permanent decline over a period of years).  This is shocking, because when I hurt my back I was prescribed Vicodin and muscle relaxers and those really really helped out my cognitive performance (if by improved my cognitive performance you mean complete, drooling, paralyzing inability to think or feel anything at all whatsoever).  I wonder how hard people on Valium, Xanax, Percoset, and Ambien* rock at those performance tests.  So yeah, pot also shouldn’t be rescheduled because it might hurt you on an IQ or pilot’s license test.  I wonder why they make all those warning labels for pill bottles if behavioral impairment is reason enough to make something unconditionally illegal…

Finally, the report argued under abuse potential that the sheer number of users proves that marijuana’s abuse potential is dangerously high.  Well, the other side of that coin is that due to the sheer numbers, if marijuana was particularly risky to health, we’d definitely know about it by now.  Does the fact that millions of Americans (2o million, according to DAWN) use marijuana regularly with no particularly severe or unusual repercussions show its relative safety?  No, no it does not.  For this factor’s analysis, numbers don’t mean shit.  The FDA hasn’t studied it (because it won’t), so it’s not safe.  Also, it’s natural, which makes each sample not quite laboratory perfect and consistent, which makes it bad.  Maybe the DoJ should also ban tomatoes because sometimes I get ones of varying color and size, or seedless watermelons because sometimes they still have seeds in them.  Choking hazard!  Basically this section tries to play the Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt card on marijuana.  Ooo, we just don’t know enough, it’s just too mysterious, who knows where this shit comes from, or what’s in it, or what it will do to us.  Well, hundreds of millions of red-blooded Americans have used pot over the course of 100 years, so if there’s some great mystery surrounding it, it’s why the gov’t is STILL trying to use Reefer Madness tactics from the 1930’s and the racist (and perhaps Andrew Mellon and William Randolph Hearst sponsored) Harry Anslinger Senate hearings to make people fear something that so clearly presents a pretty low risk to public health.  And if there are concerns about contamination and impurities that couldn’t be solved with rescheduling or legalization, I’d really like to hear what those are.

**WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT** A room filled with all the victims of marijuana use.

Essentially, any part of this document that is not grossly misleading or outright untrue is based entirely on the fact that pot is not currently legal.  My guess is that the problem with marijuana is – and this finding is strewn about in the subtext of this very report – that it is not dangerous enough.  The report says, among other things, that pot gives only the most minor of withdrawal upon cessation of use, that it creates no hangover effect in the user, that the only real health risk is associated with the physical effects of smoking the pot (which is by no means the exclusive way one could ingest it), and that any reduction in cognitive or performance capabilities is temporary and restricted only to the amount of time that the user is under the influence.  As a result, with cannabis, there is no endemic incentive to dissuade use like there is with most other substances.  It can also be grown naturally, cheaply, and doesn’t have to be obtained from a pharmaceutical giant for 1,000x the production price.  Maybe that’s the scariest part about it.  In any event, I’m exhausted from these rhetorical manipulations posing as factual analysis, man.  Better smoke a J and relax take some Klonopin and drive myself to T.G.I. Friday’s.

* This actually isn’t true, the analysis on this point ignores the fact that there are two synthetic THC-based medications currently approved as Schedule III drugs, even though it’s contradictorily mentioned elsewhere in the report in support of a different negative conclusion.  Synthetic THC = good, natural THC = bad. DoJ = having cake, eating it too.

* If the reader has never taken Ambien, it’s kind of like your brain turning into warm molasses over the course of 10 minutes in a somewhat pleasurable event that you’ll never remember, or what I imagine the guys in Mötley Crüe felt when they used to inject tequila into their throats. If someone ever suggests to you that marijuana presents a bigger risk to memory and functionality than Ambien (or tequila), they are either a complete fool or they are lying to you.

I Left My Heart in San Francisco

21 Dec

Well, more like I left my car in San Francisco and the SF PD/DPT reached through my ribcage and tore out my still-beating heart, held it firmly in front of me, and then asked me politely to pay them $600 to have it back.

"Hello sir, welcome to the San Francisco Department of Parking Fuck Ups, how can I be of service to you today?"

I’m not quite sure what happened here.  I am pretty confident that I parked in a legitimate space, right beneath a sizable tree and a sign that unambiguously permitted parking.  I’m also 100% sure that when I later returned to where my car used to be, there was another car parked in the same spot, unbothered.  The best I can figure is that PART of my car may have been encroaching on some red-painted curb indicating that a driveway may be nearby (although this is never clear in San Francisco, which has an abundance of weird inch-high curbs, hidden driveways, 4-foot long parking spaces, and other such confounding set-ups).  It was dark and almost historically rainy at the time, and I haven’t had a chance to go back and investigate, so this remains an open question.  The following day I tried to inspect the crime scene on Google Street View and the only conclusion I really came to was, again, that cars DO park in that spot.  Rightfully or wrongfully I can’t say, but still, at this point the evidence seems to favour that this is a permissible place to park when one is craving affordable French food and wine (< $10/plate, $7/glass).

In any event, the frugality of my dinner choice would prove to be painfully ironic.  Apparently some touchy asshole concerned citizen took issue with the placement of my car within about an hour of me placing it there and narc’ed to the SFPD, who then saw fit to issue me two parking tickets totaling $140, and ordered what must have been the SICKEST most LUXURIOUS auto tow in the history of the world for (and I even had to negotiate this down by $50) a mind-boggling $430.

The first offence.

The epic, full-service tow. This was clearly a pleasure for both car and tow'er alike, featuring a flatbed or dolly ride, premium storage, and a hefty "administration" fee. Note the time at completion.

Observe the second offence, "wheels the wrong way," issued a good 7 minutes after my car was already done being towed! Awe-some.

Moral: don’t park your car in San Francisco unless you hate your bank account.

Genuine Crass

15 Dec

It is often pointed out that “hipster” culture is more about buying a certain image – “grittiness,” “authenticity,” “creativity,” etc. – than anything else.  I think this is largely true and nowhere more nauseatingly evident than at Free City.  This bullshit “art collective/fashion house” sells things like teal t-shirts with the words “BIKE FRIEND” on them for $135, and orange parachute pants with what appears to be a mash-up of the Twitter and City Sports logos for nearly $300.  If you thought American Apparel was grossly underpriced, Free City is for you.

I’m quite sure that this is some kind of joke being played upon vapid saps of Southern California.  I refuse to believe that it could be anything else.  That being said, I think as my next/first performance-art-slash-get-rich-quick scheme, I would like to take this nonsense to the next logical step.  If the rich A-holes fashion savvy consumers of Orange County want to pay real money to look like fake drug addicts, I’d like to provide them with something even harder: MURDER SHIRTS.  If you’re willing to drop hundreds on some manufactured tatter, wouldn’t you spend thousands for true grit?  Not the impression of authenticity, but its actual stanky DNA: a homeless guy’s old pants, a military-style jacket some unknown musician overdosed in, shirts off murder victims.  Why revel in the illusion of seediness when you can buy your way into so much more?  Be the envy of even your “hardest” hipster friends as vagrants recognize your outfit as something they think they used to have!  Watch girls in thick glasses and arm sleeve tattoos swoon when they find out that your slim fit v-neck tee is speckled with SOME BRO’S ACTUAL BLOOD.  “Dude, some dude fucking OD’d in this shirt!”  “Sick man, let’s drink a Pabst!”  Plus paying local house-unencumbered artisans and bereaved families to unload their dirty laundry on you reeks of “social consciousness,” a necessary veneer for any successful business attempting to sell hipness to rich people.  As soon as Taylor Momsen or James Franco is seen in one of these babies, this will be the thing.

The realest fake authenticity money can buy, soliciting investors NOW.

"Ryan Gosling helps the homeless" could soon be "Ryan Gosling IS the homeless." Think about it Ryan!

SkyMall’s Greatest WTFs

30 Nov

In other news, eating Domino's makes you hot.

SkyMall is my favourite part of most plane rides.  It’s like reading 1,000 tiny infomercials, which doesn’t sound fun, but is if you find rubbernecking on the sheer stupidity of post-industrial life fun, as I seem to.  SkyMall is free to take with you out into the real world, so intones an attendant at the end of each flight, just in case you’re tired of sorting through different Hammacher Schlemmer and Sharper Image catalogues in order to find the world’s most exclusive pointless crap to divert your income to.  If you really want to know what banal evil lurks in the heart of the Modern Machine, it’s SkyMall: the most frivolous consumerism imaginable, reduced to sad little sales pitches designed to make peeing statues sound like high art and dog ladders sound indispensable.  SkyMall is what it’s all about people, the resource wars, tax cuts for the wealthy, derivatives speculation, the endless parring down of social services, infrastructure, education, and the arts.  SkyMall is the antithesis of conservation, culture, and taste.  SkyMall is what happens when drugs and sex are either punished or marginalized, and adult humans develop a desire to get their rocks off by purchasing Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville-brand tequila shot chiller ($250) 30,000 feet in the air.  SkyMall is waste porn.  To wit (click on any picture to enlarge):

Hey world's dentists, SkyMall just made you IRRELEVANT.

Stop worrying about your fucked up teeth and just pop these bad boys over your grisly nubs!  No one will be able to tell the difference between real, healthy teeth and these expensive versions of Halloween vampire teeth, which everyone knows are very comfortable and stay in place, like, no problem man.

Also squeezes tear ducts shut.

“Look 15 years younger by holding a prosthetic face over your own! No one will be able to tell!  Murder Talk to pretty girls again!”  Well, not quite, but almost.  At first I thought this ad was for some miracle pills or creams or something.  Turns out, it’s for an “invisible” harness to physically wear around your face.  No one will be able to tell your face is being physically stretched back by a harness around your head.  Swear to god.  And if they do, just play it off all cool: “oh this? what? did you hear about Mary’s oxycontin addiction?”  Feel your best every morning as you tape your skin back in a desperate attempt to be someone else.

Make believe this doesn't cost the same as a new iPhone.

Jesus Christ Jane, with a name that boring you could at least have interesting status updates on Facebook.  And what kind of idiot wants to watch Netflix on this $200 digital picture frame?  Especially when…

With free internet included!**

… there’s this must-be-some-catch MacBook Air rip-off for $250 on the next page!  **Free internet limited to 30 hours per month, which should be just enough to check your AOL and myspace page.

Patented "Italian" design.

Dude, Rodan’s “The Thinker” pose is totally not making that look any less stupid.  And rocking that apparatus on your head after a hard day of male modeling definitely sounds way more fun and relaxing than drugs.

Finally, you can listen to records in your car! What's that you say? No one wants to listen to records in their car? Uh, shhh...

Now I just need to wait for them to make records even slightly portable.  That technology is advancing fast these days, so, shouldn’t take too long.

"After I wake up from this luscious nap I'm totally going to bang one of those air waitresses"

Teal body pillow? Check.  Purple Hawaiian shirt? Check.  Unlike nearly every other product in this catalog, this product appears to be for those who DON’T GIVE A FUCK what they look like.

What TV? Where?

Do anything? Wear anywhere?  As badass as it looks to chill with some brooding rockstars in footie pajamas, this advert does and IS in need of some major copyediting.  “Cute” and “playful” aren’t opposing concepts at all.  Would it be proper to say “this product looks undeniably embarrassing, yet boasts a tacky style”?  Also, I’m really not sure if “playful pajama attitude” suits literally everyone, especially that girl scowling in the corner.  You can’t look that self-serious while modeling Ed Hardy-inspired footie pajamas for adults.  You just can’t.  I do commend the makers of “Jumpin Jammerz” for coaxing Chris Gaines out of retirement though.

New goal in life: see one person actually using this, stare.

Their unique solution to the misplaced cell phone: CHAIN IT TO YOUR FUCKING WRIST WHEREVER YOU GO.  What about when you wash your hands?  Or go to the bathroom?  Or when you have to do ANYTHING with your hands for that matter?  If this doesn’t scream “I don’t have my shit together in the slightest,” I don’t know what does…

You think it might be fun to get drunk and hook up with this girl. IT WON'T BE.

… okay, maybe this.  “Sure to get noticed” is a vague notion and a slippery slope SkyMall.  Lot of things are “sure to get [you] noticed,” like wetting yourself or yelling on the bus.  It’s not clear that’s always a good thing.


I don’t know about you, but I’d feel kind of extremely weird eating off the back of my fake Japanese man servant.  The perfect coffee table to sit around and discuss Pearl Harbor with your militia friends.

This does not in any way look like a comfortable way to sleep.

Daaamn, her posture is so bad.

A fair number of products in SkyMall seem to be designed solely to make breasts jut out.  Suspicious…

This is MY meat.

To take the time to heat up your personalized branding iron in order to sear your initials into your dinner so you can.. see your initials on your dinner before you eat it.  I don’t know whether this is more dumb or sad, which is why I prefer psychological dominance of my food.  No branding necessary, my frozen pizza knows who calls the shots around here.  JSB, that’s who.

This is actually kind of cool, provided you never actually use the words “lip ticklers.”

It’s worth mentioning that half the products in SkyMall are variations of spy technology, hidden cameras, data monitoring, etc.  The other half are mostly to hide your real self from the world or to make your house look like a Thomas Kinkade gallery.  Paranoia, self-loathing, and useless consumption makes your lifestyle healthy!

Do Attorneys Dream of Electric Beats?

24 Nov

I’ve been seriously addicted to electronic music lately.  I went through a brief stint in college of going out crazy drinking and winding up in clubs, then using pirated DJ software to write increasingly expansive dance tunes the morning after as a sort of hangover remedy.  After that, I retreated into more lo-fi musical stylings for a few years, before simultaneously discovering the digital joy of Kraftwerk and Daft Punk.  From different ends of The Continent, spanning almost 40 years of technology and evolving influence, I found myself immersed in this fascinating alpha and omega of what is possible when you make music in the astral plane.  From there, it was an educational fill-in-the-blanks of what came in between, most notably the Manchester scene from the late 70’s to the early 90’s (as documented in the Tony Wilson pseudo-documentary 24 Hour Party People, which charts the up and downs of Wilson’s Factory Records label).  With their German influences firmly in place – both in the form of nascent electronic music exploration and post-Reich crippling industrial decline – the scrappy Manchs infused a dark, gritty punk sensibility with a burgeoning appreciation of what technological advances in recording and post-production could do.  Once Joy Division – the all-time thought leader in melodic droning – lost their morose lead singer in 1980, the haunted bass and drums became haunted synths, and borrowing some Kraftwerk samples (a new concept at the time), New Order was born.  The aural aesthetic of this time period blows my mind, it’s like time-traveling to a future/past that was too beautiful to ever exist.  Add a few years, and the introduction of ecstasy to the same pale, depressed masses – now raving at Wilson’s “Hacienda” club – and modern dance music as we know it was underway.

"The Hacienda," ground zero for the mainstreamization of electronic music.

From that same time period and relative place, another moribund influence appears that will monopolize the artistic palate of techno: 1982’s Blade Runner.  From Northern England descends Ridley Scott and his Philip K. Dick-based pièce de résistance of futurama.  A few things stand out while watching the director’s cut of this movie now: (a) it’s dense but accessible and therefore highly rewarding; (b) this movie is completely infused in the DNA of cinema, and almost no one has had an original thought about the future on film since (although Blade Runner itself looks to have drawn substantially on Fritz Lang’s impenetrable Metropolis, it is definitely its own thing); (c) the existential implication of humans against similarly capable artificial intelligence/computers/robots was never more deeply or movingly explored.  Daft Punk’s robot versus human imagery is clearly a direct descendant of this motif (is “Human After All” an answer to over-produced early albums or Deckard’s identity quandary?).  Kraftwerk’s 1978 album “The Man-Machine” picked up and ran with this theme a few years earlier, and its iconic cover certainly echoes Metropolis‘s modernist style.  Of course, the touchstone for the sci-fi struggle over what is unique and indelible, if anything, about being human – a collection of organic computational  structures versus artificial ones – dates back to the late 50’s and early 60’s in the Cold War paranoia of The Twilight Zone and P.K. Dick himself*.

It's hard to imagine a time before we thought the movie future would look like this, probably because few of us lived in a world where that was not the case.

If Kraftwerk’s homemade vacuum-tube synths and sparsely inhuman Bloc sound and outfits describe the skeleton of what was to come, Daft Punk, with their endlessly palatable repetition and penchant for Tron-like graphics and permanent robot costumes,  were the fruition of what’s possible on a commercial, multinational scale.  Both also prove that the best electronic music comes with a healthy dose of avante garde style.  Not surprisingly, Daft Punk is doing the soundtrack for (and “starring” in) the perhaps horrible, perhaps interesting rehash of Tron, and is now featured in their own adaption of the Guitar Hero franchise, something called “DJ Hero,” that uses two fake turntables for controllers, and was well-received enough that Activision was willing to invest in a sequel.

Kraftwerk style, circa back in the day.

Daft Punk style, circa now-ish.

So if Disney movies and blockbuster rhythm video games are now on the table, who’s making music that still warrants forty consecutive listens?  More Europeans, that’s who!  Right now I can’t stop listening to Miike Snow and Mark Ronson and his Biz Int’l*.  Both of these projects benefit from the musical genius and chameleonic voice of American hipster Andrew Wyatt, who is the lead singer/songwriter for the Miichael Snö and a frequent collaborator of Ronson’s, most notably on the raise-the-dead catchy “Somebody to Love Me” (along with full-time eccentric and face tattoo-haver Boy George).  Unlike most American artists working in this genre who have mysteriously eschewed nuanced hooks in favor of harshness or pure intensity, Wyatt and his Euro cohorts have a gift for fusing traditional music elements like piano and banjo with brain-melting electronic sounds, creating surreal, unreal, 4 dimensional*, textured earscapes*.  I’m sure Mr. Wyatt et al.’s work is well-complimented by psychedelic drugs, but they nearly make them beside the point.  It’s not quite clear to me what trust fund baby Mark Ronson’s exact gift is – be it networking, or being a super cool dude super cool people want to party with, or just rocking a crazy blond pompadour, or what – but his new album is straight stupid with relentless electro-driven hits, and each song features a minimum of three additional parenthetical guest artists.  Ronson is an especially delightful throwback to The Hacienda scene, sounding frequently like a mash-up between Eurotrash DJ’s, hyper-literate rappers, and The Smiths, the lattermost being the one band Tony Wilson regrets not signing to Factory Records.  I’m holding my breath for Ronson to charm Morrissey out of whatever self-imposed reclusion he is no doubt currently in, and offer him a guest spot in a parenthetical on his next album.  Honorable mention on this note must also be given to Miike Snow’s “Burial,” a song which is such a fantastic piece of poetic dance-mope that it could make Old Man Morrissey implode with misery-envy.

Andrew Wyatt, the new voice making robots rock in the plastic jungle.

Perhaps I find this music so entrancing because there is no IRL limitation to the sound dynamics and the images they conjure in my head.  Or maybe it’s because electronic music always feels like a projection of the zeitgeist’s conception of the future, and regardless of dystopian themes or alienation lyrics,  has some sort of lost optimism about it, a snapshot of a place that’s unattainable, beautiful, and will never exist.  The dichotomy of the ideal and the correspondingly impossible, as the ancient Greeks and Mad Men viewers both know (see etymology of the word “Utopia,” elucidated equally well in either Plato’s Republic or Don Draper’s Kodak Carousel pitch), is painfully lovely.  Also, as an intellectual property lawyer who is taking his first class in computer programming, it’s transcendent to be working in all this mundanity and then realize what is possible with the ultimate end result.  How you get from .txt files filled with numbers and brackets to “Silvia,” “You Gave Me Nothing,” “Harder Better Faster Stronger,” or “Blue Monday” is beyond me, but it’s an amazing concept.

There is probably the fantasy factor too.  Being a DJ (like a real DJ that makes music, not the slash “club promoter” type) seems like the coolest lifestyle ever ever ever.

*To be fair, the origin of this thematic device probably has direct roots to Shelley’s organic-yet-artificial creation in Frankenstein.

*I’ve also been listening to a lot of We Were Promised Jetpacks, but despite their futuristic-sounding name, they’re pretty much a traditional, albeit good, indie rock band.

*Height, width, depth, and awesomeness.

*New word, copyright me, right now.  Hey, Sarah Palin Shakespeare does it.


22 Nov

Blogging is the most self-indulgent thing a person can do, ergo, I thought I’d try it.