Monday, May 19, 2008
Civics
I am going to do my part as a good citizen to quickly spend a nice chunk of my additional tax rebate on an expensive electronic good. I had planned to buy an external hard drive for probably two years now but always seemed to find a better (and even more impulsive) purchase. And at this moment, thanks to the federal government's generous decision to give back a few hundred of my dollars, I can set aside the cash before I have it. I suppose I can thank the state for letting me loan it money, with no interest paid mind you, so that I can have it back at a useful time, to stave off system collapse.
In keeping with American fiscal policy since WWII, Washington is linking economic growth and stability with consumption, particularly of disposable goods that appeal to materialistic impulses. The so called stimulus package amounts to a payment, per person, that is just big enough to blow on a sweet new ipod or jacket, but not yet large enough to make any sizeable debt in, say, a mortgage or car payment. Whereas $600 might cover one month of a mortgage, a television lasts forever. Or at least a good five years, which might as well be forever. After that point, you can conveniently dispose of the television in a local landfill or lake to clear space for the next generation. It's no contest. The shiny thing always wins out over the tedious bank transaction.
Having said that, I do plan to keep the rest of the stimulus money hidden away inside my mattress. So take that, Federal Reserve.
In keeping with American fiscal policy since WWII, Washington is linking economic growth and stability with consumption, particularly of disposable goods that appeal to materialistic impulses. The so called stimulus package amounts to a payment, per person, that is just big enough to blow on a sweet new ipod or jacket, but not yet large enough to make any sizeable debt in, say, a mortgage or car payment. Whereas $600 might cover one month of a mortgage, a television lasts forever. Or at least a good five years, which might as well be forever. After that point, you can conveniently dispose of the television in a local landfill or lake to clear space for the next generation. It's no contest. The shiny thing always wins out over the tedious bank transaction.
Having said that, I do plan to keep the rest of the stimulus money hidden away inside my mattress. So take that, Federal Reserve.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Nothing is actual
Go to this link and then click on portfolio. Moving the mouse over the photo gives the "before" version. We common folk can feel better about ourselves, at least for a moment.
http://www.iwanexstudio.com/
http://www.iwanexstudio.com/
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
You have cool clothes
"What do you do that you look like that?" Obviously asked in response to looking like shit. The day did it. I was digging a hole, I rode a horse, I made hambergurs all day, I drank to much, I drank to little, I biked, I walked, I thought too much, I didn't think enough, I picked a tulip from a garden bed in front of national bank, I was constipated, I had diarreha, I petted someone elses dog, I picked my nose, I rubbed my eye after I picked my nose, I regretted not telling someone I was pensive about, I didn't say what I wanted to say to someone, I read, I smoked, I tripped.
"When can I take you out?" Obviously in response to looking like shit.
"When can I take you out?" Obviously in response to looking like shit.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Waste = Food
Reading the aforementioned Underworld has got me thinking about garbage, waste, since the main character works for a waste management company. There's some discussion of the fantastically named Fresh Kills Landfill in Staten Island, New York, which was once the world's largest landfill. In fact, again according to Wikipedia, Fresh Kills at its peak was not only taller than the Statue of Liberty but technically the largest man-made structure on the planet. Today, the landfill is closed and Fresh Kills is being redesigned as a public park. Click here for a link to the project website.
This kind of creative and adaptive reuse of land that is a serious environmental catastrophe follows the thinking behind Cradle to Cradle, the incredible book written by William McDonough, an American architect, and Michael Braungart, a German chemist. I cannot recommend reading this book enough. It has fundamentally changed my thinking about the problems facing the world. It all centers on the notion concept that waste equals food. The authors use the example of the cherry tree, which seemingly creates a large amount of waste (for instance leaves and flowers) that fall from the tree only to provide nutrients for animals and plants, as well as the soil that sustains the tree itself.
In natural systems nothing is wasted. In fact, efficiency is maximized at every step. They argue that such a constantly replenishing, self-sufficient system should be utilized in human design, whether it's of a plastic bottle or an entire factory. Rather than trying to summarize this brilliant thesis, I'll simply include a link to the documentary (approximately 50 minutes) entitled Waste = Food.
This kind of creative and adaptive reuse of land that is a serious environmental catastrophe follows the thinking behind Cradle to Cradle, the incredible book written by William McDonough, an American architect, and Michael Braungart, a German chemist. I cannot recommend reading this book enough. It has fundamentally changed my thinking about the problems facing the world. It all centers on the notion concept that waste equals food. The authors use the example of the cherry tree, which seemingly creates a large amount of waste (for instance leaves and flowers) that fall from the tree only to provide nutrients for animals and plants, as well as the soil that sustains the tree itself.
In natural systems nothing is wasted. In fact, efficiency is maximized at every step. They argue that such a constantly replenishing, self-sufficient system should be utilized in human design, whether it's of a plastic bottle or an entire factory. Rather than trying to summarize this brilliant thesis, I'll simply include a link to the documentary (approximately 50 minutes) entitled Waste = Food.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
The summer of DeLillo
By no means am I an expert of literature. I took only a few courses in college and, to be perfectly honest, I am not particularly well read when it comes to the classics, the Western canon. Most everything I have read, save for a few of the Russians, was written during the 20th and 21st centuries in the Western hemisphere.
Having delivered this caveat, I am comfortable with saying that, to me, Don DeLillo is the greatest living fiction writer. I read his White Noise a few years ago and loved it, but other than one failed attempt to get through the 800+ page Underworld I didn't come back to his books. Until, that is, I had a chance encounter with his newest novel, Falling Man, while visiting Seattle last month. Falling Man is all about, mainly, 9/11, but also memory (including the failings thereof) and the psychological and emotional effects of living through a traumatic event. DeLillo made his living by examining the media, the state, terrorism, and catastrophe. And of course New York as well. So in some ways, 9/11 was merely a DeLillo novel played out in real life, though I suppose Falling Man begs the question, in world saturated by big media and simulation, is there such a thing as "real life"?
Today was a mostly perfect spring afternoon. Sunny, 60s, a slight breeze coming off the lake. I ventured over to my neighborhood park to people watch and read a few chapters of Underworld. Public life in Chicago often dissapoints me, since expensive cafes and corporate-sponsored, state-sanctioned events tend to dominate space and time here. But on days like today, I know I can count on good old Welles Park for plenty of diverse human activity. There was softball, of course, but also frisbee, little league baseball, soccer, football, hackiesack, a drum circle and what clearly looked to be sepak takraw. As in, just give me the damn sepak takraw ball.
Ngyuen Thi Buch Thuy: 'Just Give Me The Damn Sepak Takraw Ball'
Anyway, reading DeLillo in a public space is quite the experience. His ability to peel back the layers and get at people's motivations and desires is outstanding. Watching the hustle and bustle of weekend life in the city, everyone doing their thing, coexisting, while considering DeLillo's take on aging and disease and nostalgia and everything else is like a taking part in an field study being conducted by anthropologists from the future.
And but so, it occurred to me that DeLillo's work should be mandatory reading for school kids, rather than territory reserved for art fascists and regular readers of the New York Time book review. Required study of, say, White Noise in, say, grade five would create a generation of politically aware, media savvy children who would know better than to believe what they see. The problem is that ten-year olds are certainly not ready to hear about "the magic and dread" of American life, to quote the man himself. I suppose a more reasonable goal would be to replace some of the more staid high school American lit with fiction that will help students to navigate the world they are inheriting. I'll probably end up contradicting or recanting this statement at a later time, but DeLillo has much more to say to today's youth than do Hawthorne or Salinger.
After reading Falling Man I decided to make the ensuing summer my personal summer of DeLillo. I suspect that this goal for summer will spill over into the fall and winter, since the guy has written some fifteen novels and several plays. I'll end this blather with an extended quote (lifted from Wikipedia) DeLillo made in reply to criticism from none other than George Will:
Amen to that.
Having delivered this caveat, I am comfortable with saying that, to me, Don DeLillo is the greatest living fiction writer. I read his White Noise a few years ago and loved it, but other than one failed attempt to get through the 800+ page Underworld I didn't come back to his books. Until, that is, I had a chance encounter with his newest novel, Falling Man, while visiting Seattle last month. Falling Man is all about, mainly, 9/11, but also memory (including the failings thereof) and the psychological and emotional effects of living through a traumatic event. DeLillo made his living by examining the media, the state, terrorism, and catastrophe. And of course New York as well. So in some ways, 9/11 was merely a DeLillo novel played out in real life, though I suppose Falling Man begs the question, in world saturated by big media and simulation, is there such a thing as "real life"?
Today was a mostly perfect spring afternoon. Sunny, 60s, a slight breeze coming off the lake. I ventured over to my neighborhood park to people watch and read a few chapters of Underworld. Public life in Chicago often dissapoints me, since expensive cafes and corporate-sponsored, state-sanctioned events tend to dominate space and time here. But on days like today, I know I can count on good old Welles Park for plenty of diverse human activity. There was softball, of course, but also frisbee, little league baseball, soccer, football, hackiesack, a drum circle and what clearly looked to be sepak takraw. As in, just give me the damn sepak takraw ball.
Ngyuen Thi Buch Thuy: 'Just Give Me The Damn Sepak Takraw Ball'
Anyway, reading DeLillo in a public space is quite the experience. His ability to peel back the layers and get at people's motivations and desires is outstanding. Watching the hustle and bustle of weekend life in the city, everyone doing their thing, coexisting, while considering DeLillo's take on aging and disease and nostalgia and everything else is like a taking part in an field study being conducted by anthropologists from the future.
And but so, it occurred to me that DeLillo's work should be mandatory reading for school kids, rather than territory reserved for art fascists and regular readers of the New York Time book review. Required study of, say, White Noise in, say, grade five would create a generation of politically aware, media savvy children who would know better than to believe what they see. The problem is that ten-year olds are certainly not ready to hear about "the magic and dread" of American life, to quote the man himself. I suppose a more reasonable goal would be to replace some of the more staid high school American lit with fiction that will help students to navigate the world they are inheriting. I'll probably end up contradicting or recanting this statement at a later time, but DeLillo has much more to say to today's youth than do Hawthorne or Salinger.
After reading Falling Man I decided to make the ensuing summer my personal summer of DeLillo. I suspect that this goal for summer will spill over into the fall and winter, since the guy has written some fifteen novels and several plays. I'll end this blather with an extended quote (lifted from Wikipedia) DeLillo made in reply to criticism from none other than George Will:
"I don't take it seriously, but being called a 'bad citizen' is a compliment to a novelist, at least to my mind. That's exactly what we ought to do. We ought to be bad citizens. We ought to, in the sense that we're writing against what power represents, and often what government represents, and what the corporation dictates, and what consumer consciousness has come to mean. In that sense, if we're bad citizens, we're doing our job".
Amen to that.
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