Mind & Behavior!

I'm reading this book about Alex Chilton, and I guess the title is a clue, "A Man Called Destruction." Tells you that it's gonna be a story of creation and well, I guess, the other side of creation.  I studied Psychology in College, and I think this man and his group, Big Star, would have been a hell of a great case study.

Psychology - "the science of mind and behavior." I always thought that the science part of psychology was a little suspect. Freud made up interesting and insightful narratives, and B.F. Skinner tortured little pigeons for some crazy reason, and C.J. Jung, well, he was an amazing, insightful mystic with some loopy, and cool theories... and then there were all those "therapies" -  "tell me about your childhood..." - lobotomies, shock treatments, massive doses of drugs, brain-scanning - "look at all the pretty pictures"... the whole field seemed crazy, and maybe a little bit sick...

So anyway, yes, the human mind and behavior, what a topic.  Endless and deep. Contradictory. Unexplainable. Strange. Kinky. Destructive. Funny. Disturbing. How many things can go right? How many things can go wrong? And what do people do under stress, or in the midst of success, or the lack of success? People never cease to amaze... and disappoint... and well, just when you think you get it, that you have finally figured these people out, something else comes out of left field...

A Good Record!

"The important thing is to make a good record, because if you make a good record, it doesn't matter what happens. It's going to sell from then on to some degree, even though it doesn't sell anything when it comes out and is a big disappointment to everybody. If it's really good, people are going to want it from then on, and that's the important thing. It might take five or ten years for it to pay off - or it might take twenty years, and you might be dead when it pays off. If it's good, it's going to pay off for somebody, sometime." - Alex Chilton

And this may be true no matter the circumstances of the record's creation. The band might implode after one record, the members might all have bad tempers, and there might be lots of blood, broken glass and stitches. Members of the band might fight often and destroy each other's instruments. They might be sort of snobby, spoiled rich kids who don't really like to tour. They all may be going to psychiatrists and taking drugs, both legal and illegal. They may go into major depressions, and try to commit suicide, and try to erase the master tapes of their first record, but then again, they may go on to make another record as a trio, and if the tapes survive, and the years go by, maybe others will start to recognize that the records are good, the band was actually one of the greats, and other bands will try to emulate their sound. Bands like REM and the Replacments will consider them seminal. Maybe that's sort of the story if you want to be something like a Big Star!

Close & Spooky Connections

Riffing on Caesium - 137 (see previous post)...

So yes, we test a bomb or drop a bomb in one part of the world, and the whole world experiences the effects - for a very, very long time. It kind of shows us that yes, indeed, we all are connected. There are the close connections, and the long, spooky connections. And this applies to everything. A crime against a human, is a crime against humanity. Someone pollutes the land, the sea, the sky, we are all polluted.

Our lives are part of an all-encompassing web, and that web encompasses the universe. We believe we are at the top of the food chain, but we are just a link. And every link has a job. And one link breaks and the chain is weakened, and ultimately it falls apart.

We sometimes feel alone, or in opposition to the elements, or to the universe, but this is not reality. We are embedded in a vast interconnected, ever-evolving, ever-expanding universe. Everything we can see, and touch, and think, and feel, emerges from this web of connections. We in a sense are the universe, not separate from it, we are in it, and of it.

So yes, everything counts. Everything we do implicates each and every one of us.

Children of the Atomic Bomb!

We truly live in the Atomic Age.  Not because we live in a time where we invented and built nuclear bombs and reactors. But because we've actually tested atomic bombs, dropped them on human populations, and had have a number of nuclear "accidents."  Ever since July 16, 1945 when we did the "Trinity Test," the planet has been fundamentally altered. Caesium-137 can be found in trace amounts everywhere on the planet.

They can actually date a bottle of wine to determine whether it's older or younger than that fateful date in 1945. If Caesium-137 is in the wine it's "atomic age wine." And yes, of course, any of us, if we are born after 1945, we are literally and physically, children of the atomic bomb.

Freaky. I remember as a child, in school, hiding under my desk, running through the drill to protect ourselves in case of a nuclear attack.  It all seemed sort of silly.  We were already atomic kids.  If we didn't actually learn how to "love the bomb" we did learn how to live with it.  It became us, we incorporated it, embodied it, and it descended upon everything we eat and breathe. Atomic!

Hired-Hands!

Alex Chilton in the Box Tops kind of chafed at being under the thumb of Producer Dan Penn and hired-gun songwriters Wayne Carson Thompson, Chips Moman and Spooner Oldman.  Even though they were among the ones who provided the songs that helped propel the Box Tops to fame.  It seemed to be immensely frustrating for Alex to become famous for things he didn't necessarily want to be famous for.

And the guys in the Box Tops didn't even get to play their instruments on their records. That was left to the top-notch studio musicians that worked at American Studios in Memphis.  But it's hard to argue with the results from working with such great "hired-hands."

When it comes to creativity, it's not so much the means, it really is the ends that count... here's another great hit record from Dusty Springfield backed by Memphis' finest...

Anatomy of a Hit!

"Here I am at the top, doing something I don't understand and don't really have any feeling for and getting really famous for it. Gee! But it's good to find that out when you're young: Fame can make you money, but it's a big pain in the ass. There are real advantages to being unknown. - Alex Chilton

There's an interesting story of a hit song within the larger story of Alex Chilton's life. The song is "The Letter." It was a mammoth hit in 1967 for the Box Tops, it hit number 1, and stayed there for four weeks. It was the "song of the year," it was one of the theme songs for soldiers in Vietnam, it was part of the soundtrack of the late sixties. It then became a classic top forty hit, that has probably been played a gazillion times since.

Alex Chilton was 16 years old when the song hit the charts. The song certainly "changed his life." As lead singer of a very popular Pop band, Alex was propelled into a hyper-driven life of "sex, drugs & r&r." What's really interesting and kind of funny - Alex wasn't really that committed to the Box Tops, he wasn't that happy with the music of the band, they weren't really his band, they weren't really his songs, the fame that came crashing down upon him, was for something that kind of came to him "accidentally." He rode the wave, but it wasn't really his wave.

And the fame and popularity came upon him so swiftly and effortlessly. It must have been so unreal, and set up such unrealistic expectations, and here he was just a kid.  Kind of the classic child star thing. It's kind of a cliche and a template for lots of kids around the world. One song did that. One song.

You listen to that song on the radio: it's short, to the point, it moves. It's really a great song. And Alex sounds amazing. He sounds a little grizzled, soulful, world-weary.  But it was kind of an act of mimicry. It was an act. It was effective. Alex gave it is all. It's a great performance. But it wasn't really him. He was just doing it. Which might be good enough. But really it sort of messed with his head. And one suspects he never really got over that moment, that song.

Now, of course, singers can sing songs written by others, and make those songs their own. Alex in a sense did do that, but at the same time, he didn't. And that had major ramifications for his life. 

Here's Alex & the Box Tops live at the Bitter End:

Joe Cocker covered it too. And for some reason you think Joe had no ambivalence about doing this song at all. It was a soul classic, and that was him, it was who he was.  He made the song his own.

;

Accidentally Alternative!

"I guess my life has been a series of flukes in the record business. The first thing I ever did was the biggest record that I'll ever have." - Alex Chilton

Terry Flamm over at Broken Hearted Toy did a majestic three-part review of "A Man Called Destruction," a biography of Alex Chilton.  I just got my copy of the book. I've moved on from The Smiths & Morrissey, and am now immersed in the amazing and confounding r&r journey of Alex Chilton.

There is some kind of odd continuum. The Smiths were always in the spotlight, whereas Alex's career was birthed in a blaze, and then he seemed to spend the rest of his life on the margins, in the shadows. 

I've just started the journey and it's a totally captivating read. I'm in the middle of the early years in Memphis and the wild ride of "The Letter." At 16, a young Alex Chilton & the Box Tops topped the charts with "The Letter." An almost "accidental" hit. I remember listening to the song on my little transistor radio. I knew it was a hit, but had no clue how massive (over 4 million copies sold) it really was at the time.

And here's maybe the best definition of real "alternative" rock: 

"Somewhere along the line I figured out that if you only press up a hundred copies of a record, then eventually it will find its way to the hundred people in the world who want it the most." - Alex Chilton

Hello Radio!

Yes, my band, whitewolfsonicprincess  is working with Danie Cortese Entertainment on an international radio promotion.  As I wrote yesterday in our r&r diary:

Today we are releasing "Inner Light" as the first official single from our record 10+1. The single is being launched out into the international radio universe by Danie Cortese Entertainment. The full album is available as a limited-edition CD, or high-quality digital download, on bandcamp! We are so excited to be working with Danie and DCE. "Inner Light," features just the four of us: Carla, Tim, Rich and I. The song is near and dear to our hearts. It's a little message in a bottle. Wonder where it lands? What's the sound of "one hand waving free?" 

Most of the world, and most of the people in it, have no clue we have a band, a record, and have never heard any of our music. So we are hoping Danie can get us a little more "visibility" in the radio world.  We shall see. It's kind of exciting, not sure what to expect. I guess you can say I have "high hopes" and "no expectations." My emotions are bounded by quotation marks.

Why did we pick "Inner Light?" It was actually our second pick, but Danie and her crew thought it crossed lots of genres, and it's "got a good beat," and if Dick Clark was still around, well, I don't expect he'd dance to it, but you never know. It's also just our core band. No special guests. It's all just us. That's my "white beauty" Stratocaster in the instrumental break.  Love that sound.

We would have loved to do a double A-sided single, but the matter of $ kind of makes that untenable. But in the ideal world (which is what my blog is all about) we would be releasing "Shadow Boxing" too.  Our band really is kind of yin/yang collective. This one sounds a little bit like Rolling Thunder Revue, with the amazing Steve Gibons on violin.

Mistakes!

Barack Obama: "Some of America's Most Costly Mistakes Come from Relying Too Much on the Military."

That's the President. Saying it. A most obvious and glaring understatement. So glad he verbalized it. In my lifetime, I think of the human wreckage on all sides from Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan. Long, grinding, demoralizing wars.  At least two of them probably illegal, and certainly unnecessary and trumped up.

Just because we have the largest military mammoth ever conceived by man, doesn't mean we really have to use it. Sometimes wreaking death and destruction really doesn't solve a damn thing.  That's worth keeping in mind.

Driving Dream

You took a wrong turn on the highway. You missed your exit. You ended up in the wrong place, far away from where you were supposed to be. And you were supposed to be some place. People were waiting for you, you had things you were supposed to do. You had responsibilities. Responsibilities which you were now blowing off. People were gonna be upset and disappointed in you. There was nothing you could do about it, nothing to do but drive. Drive down streets you didn't know. Streets you didn't want to be on. And really you were basically lost. You had no idea where you were. But you didn't want to admit it. You just drove. And you knew you had a long way to go.

Living in the Analog!

In music, there is that on-going debate: analog vs. digital...

What about in our lives?

We are seduced by the digital world. It is bigger, bolder, flashier, more colorful, and it's all at our fingertips. It thrills us with it's ability to keep us occupied. Our attention deficit disorder mentality is totally rewarded, one mouse-click at a time. CGI is dazzling, and is only limited by computing power and our imaginations.

Analog - "of, relating to, or being a mechanism in which data is represented by continuously variable physical quantities"

But really the analog world is so much the better world. We don't own it. Or control it. Can't click through it. We can only live in it. Sometimes you forget, but it's our natural world. The only one worth living in. Yes, and it's "represented by continuously variable physical quantities" - that's our lives baby! 

Done with Panache!

Longevity... a long life, a long individual life, there's something to be said for longevity. Although for some reason, we tend to celebrate those who get cut down, or cut themselves down early. Think James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Ian Curtis, Kurt Cobain, David Foster Wallace, Jim Morrison, John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, Buddy Holly, Nick Drake, Heath Ledger, etc.  There's nothing quite like a young dead rock star, or dead young movie star. We remember their youth, we lament their lost potential, we romanticize their short lives, and give them some kind of immortal status, just because we remember them.

But there is something to be said for living a long life. If you are an individual, it's kind of appealing to do your best to maximize your years. Now, maybe longevity is really a matter of good luck, or good genes, or being cautious and timid. Or, well, we really don't know.  Why does someone die early, and someone else live into a ripe old age? I mean, we can come up with a million reasons, stray bullets, cancerous cells, pure bad luck... but does that really explain why someone gets cut short, and someone else doesn't?

And how many of us really want to be old and decrepit? I mean who wants to be frail, lame, creaky, hooked to a ventilator, clinging to a life with all their might?  

There is a guy in our neighborhood, an Asian guy, he's 80 years old. He looks like he could be in his 50's, he's slender as a reed, he has snow-white hair, but he's limber, bright, alert, full of energy. He is a long-distance bike-rider. I was talking to him a couple days ago, we were sitting at a coffee shop, he had just completed a 35 mile bike ride. This guy is my new hero. I mean, hell, he's 80 and he's more fit than people I know in their 20's, 30's or 40's. And he has a style, a grace, a gravity. Yes, longevity, done with panache. It can be done.  Remarkable...!

The Other Thing...

This really great guitar player I know, I mean, he's a wizard, a maestro with the instrument, used to play a Les Paul guitar, he was known for, and famous for, playing his Les Paul, and he has said that he always spent his time trying to get it to sound like a Stratocaster guitar.  

Now he plays a Stratocaster, he's famous for, and known for, playing his Stratocaster, and now he says he tries really hard to get it to sound like a Les Paul.  And there is a lesson there, right? You're always going for that other thing... that other sound, that other tone... that other thing in your head, that thing you want to make real, and can't quite make real...

And then also, surprisingly, unaccountably, like any great guitar player (maybe all guitar players, great or not?), he sounds always like himself, no matter the guitar, no matter the effects pedals, no matter the amplifier... and really, no matter what. Can that be true?

Summing Up, Down to Basics...

Morality.  Well, I never killed anyone.  At least that I can remember...

Everything else is a little bit sketchy...

Still alive. Not dead yet. So I guess that is a sign of optimism. Or maybe just a basic recalcitrance. 

I find that meditation and a daily aspirin can get you through a lot. But not everything. No. Not everything.

I do agree with Morrissey. "Meat is murder." And it's best not eat the flesh of animals. It's a dead-making business. And if we live on dead flesh, we too carry that deadness inside us.

Is my daily morning optimism based on the quality of a cup of coffee? Well, yes, it is... such a slender thread.

Speaking of threads. I do think I'm am hanging by a thread.  Like a spider dangling from one slender silky tendril. 

We just don't know much about luck. Good luck. Bad luck. And how it rules our lives... so much is predicated on a simple roll of the dice...

Catching a Wave in a Tin Cup!

A strobe tuner.  This is kind of an esoteric subject. I mean, if you don't own a guitar, and you don't spend time tuning it, this subject probably means nothing to you. I have tuned guitars for most of my life, I actually once had a job tuning guitars. I tuned for a living!

Being in tune is really the first step to playing a guitar. An out of tune guitar will just sound bad, unmusical. So yes, I have spent lots of my time tuning guitars. Some guitars stay in tune for long stretches, some guitars easily go out of tune. And there are many devices one can use to tune.  I've used tuning forks, and electronic tuners, and sometimes just my ear...

Anyway, I own a strobe tuner, I've owned it for a few years, and I do think this is a device made for crazy people. Or maybe a device made to make people crazy. 

"The problem is that the waveform of a musical instrument is very complex..." 

Yes, and in that simple sentence is the conundrum, and in that complexity is madness. Trying to find that point of "perfectly in tune" doesn't really exist. You can get close, but usually you will also see overtones and harmonics. And the strobe tuner just vividly displays this fact. I mean you can go mad just trying to get that waveform to come to a "steady state." But it's like trying to catch a cloud, or catch a wave in a tin cup. 

I know. I've tried. Over and over again. And if you do the same thing over and over, and never quite get there, I mean, you get so close, so close, just ever so close.  And you do it over and over. Well, that is madness. You can resolve to just trust your ear, "isn't it good enough?" But that little strobe device is flashing, spinning, sort of laughing at you, daring you to try to get to the state of perfection... yes, madness...

Questlove on Hip-Hop!

I've been reading Questlove's series on Hip-Hop... if I was to sum it up, (which is a sort dumb thing to do, I mean, it's probably best to just read it for yourself), he's exploring how a musical form which started out as kind of a radical, underground voice of the dispossessed, became ubiquitous, and pretty vacant. I always thought the celebration of bling has always been a little bit ridiculous, even if it was intended to be sort of ridiculous. Hip-Hop has become another form of vacuous Pop which equals lots of $. People can't seem to get enough of mindless catchy grooves about bling and partying. I mean it's fun, right?! Once it's ubiquitous, it's basically dead. Anyway, Questlove says it all much better than I, and with a lot more insight and detail...

Canned Loneliness Around the World!

Yes, Mark Simpson's book on Morrissey is quite the enjoyable read (see previous post). How to convey it's beauty? It's probably best to just quote a passage, you can open the book just about anywhere and find something funny, thought-provoking and insightful...

"Above all, Morrissey's loneliness is quintessentially American: All Americans are strangers in their own land. The Native Americans were wiped out or forced onto unfamiliar reservations not just to steal their land but to make them as rootless as the white man -- to make them "American." The "United States" is a big, drafty, empty place without enough history or public houses or fish and chips shops to go around, and so Americans wrap themselves in the flag, hug the cross, huddle on the sports field, or religiously attend the movies. From time to time, they even invade foreign countries, hoping to make friends with the newly conquered/liberated people. Most famously they invented popular culture and consumerism to keep them company and have very generously exported this form of canned loneliness around the world." - Mark Simpson - "Saint Morrissey"

The Anti-Pop Pop Idol!

I followed Morrissey down the rabbit hole. I mean if you're into the Smiths, you have to take up the Morrissey trail.  I stumbled upon "Saint Morrissey" by Mark Simpson a really strange bird of a book. Simpson calls it a "psycho-bio" and really it does sort of put Morrissey on the analyst's couch. It's a very funny, very insightful little book. It's a perfect companion read to the Smiths biography.

Simpson calls Morrissey the "Anti-Pop Idol" and highlights how Morrissey actually has made high art out of little pop songs. If you really want to know how the Smiths and Morrissey have "changed peoples lives" through their music, and (in the case of Morrissey) through interviews, this is the book for you.

Simpson himself comes across as supremely funny, thought-provoking, audacious, and brilliant. A perfect author to tackle the life and mind of Morrissey. And Morrissey's music and life are the gifts that keep on giving. The more you explore, the more you delve into, the more you discover, the more there really is to enjoy and contemplate.

I have a lot of catching up to do when it comes to the music of Morrissey. I spent most of my time in Smithsville, but Simpson makes the case that if you want to understand Pop, and the importance of Pop, you must study Mr. Anti-Pop!

"Beyond the perimeter of pop music, there was a drop at the edge of the world." - Morrissey - 1981

All You Need

Sometimes the sun is shining, and the day is warm and embracing.  Those kind of days come along, and just sitting on a rock, and looking at the waves slowly lapping up on the sand is just the thing. There's not a lot to think, or to say. You just sit and watch. Let the day sort of pass through you. And it's really all you need.

Lost in Smiths-ville!

So yes, I finally finished Tony Fletcher's great, shimmering, definitive biography of the Smiths. I was a fan before I read the book, and now I'm a hopelessly lost and rabid fan. A tragically lost and rabid Smiths fan. I reside in Smiths-ville now. And am forever lost in that great zone of emotion, intellect and rhythm that is their music. I feel sorry for my neighbors. The last few weeks, it's been all Smiths, all the time. The deeper you go into the music, the deeper you go, the richer it all sounds, the harder you fall, and the more you discover.

Can listening to the Smiths music make you smarter? Deepen your heart further? I believe the answer is yes.  The creative marriage between Morrissey and Marr is profound, enlightening, overwhelming. Their songs are just perfect vehicles. They enter you, they explode inside you. Sometimes in the past, I think, I just glided on the surface of the music, it was always so musical, shimmering, sparkling. I got lost in the beautiful, shimmering surface. 

But the book helped me to go deeper. And there is just so much to the music, Morrissey is such the wonderful lyricist, a modern-day Oscar Wilde, and he always has something, interesting, brilliant and usually subversive to say about what it means to be human - to love, to desire, to fall. And Johnny Marr conjured up such a joyful, shimmering, beautiful noise. Such a great creative collaboration. 

And the band never made a false artistic move. They recorded all this amazing music from 1982-1987. They disbanded still at their peak. There was no diminishment in their brilliance. Yes, like a shooting star... a bright shiny light that never goes out.  And the music stands. It's alive now. Just put a disc on and sink in... joy, pleasure, beauty, intellectual brilliance and subversive wit... it's all there.

Russell Brand the Awakened Man!

Yes, this video montage is quite extraordinary... I don't know a lot about Russell Brand. He's a British comedian, he's appeared in a bunch of movies I'm not really interested in seeing, he was married, briefly, to Katy Perry.

He has a somewhat manic, adrenalized presentation. But you must remember, he's here primarily in the belly of the media beast, speaking to a pretty much hostile or clueless media horde, and he must say what he wants to say quickly. And his message is quite amazing, I mean, it's probably the whole thing. The real thing. What we all need to know. He may be an imperfect vessel, which he isn't afraid to admit, but to me he is charismatic, funny, brilliant and preaching the essential. You should watch it.

I myself, practice meditation, religiously, although I don't really subscribe to a religion. I meditate just about every day. I do know what brand Russell Brand is pitching. I too have felt that powerful connection to everything. It can be glimpsed, it can change you. But you do have to do the work...

Waiting in the Darkness on the Edge of Town

Hey, well, you find pearls of wisdom where you can. This is from Bruce Springsteen via Handsome Dick Manitoba of the Dictators... "Don't spend your life waiting for a moment that just won't come."

Mercurial Morrissey

Almost done with that Smiths book...

Mercurial. Morrissey. "Having qualities of eloquence, ingenuity." And "characterized by rapid and unpredictable changeableness of mood." You have to give it to Morrissey. He was really true to his character throughout the life of The Smiths.  That was the band where the art transcended everything else. Business and business people were no match. Unmanageable. 

You could not read Morrissey's heart, his head. Except in the songs. Where it really mattered. The life was unfathomable. Follow the art. Follow Morrissey's work. You can understand why Johnny Marr finally gave it up. But it was an incredibly creative collaboration.  A unique body of work that transcended everything else. And that spark, that fire, that blaze can not be contained.

Normal/Ordinary

Repo Man and Morrissey... have something in common... first Repo Man: "Ordinary fucking people, I hate them..."

And here's Morrissey: Q: What are you driven by? A: Hate largely. This will sound almost unpleasant but distaste for normality. I've never really liked normal people and it's true to this day. I don't like normal situations. I get palpitations. I don't know what to do. - Morrissey (1987)

Now, I'm in the camp where I don't think anyone is really normal/ordinary. Normality/Ordinariness is a pose! We are all a little bit twisted. More twisted than we like to let on, although some of us aren't afraid to reveal a bit of the twisted-ness. And then there are those who revel in flaunting their twistedness.  Which can be hideous. Still there are those people who are posing as normal/ordinary and well yes, they are sort of distasteful. And then, alternatively, there are those exotic birds who are just different, they can't help it. Sometimes we make them stars...

Losing the Narrative

A narrative. A story. What happens when you lose the narrative? What happens when events don't connect? What happens when it all sort of rushes by in a blur? Or it all looks like an unconnected mess? What if you can't really make out a "story" at all? It all becomes a jumble of events? And you can't see yourself in the story at all? Not even sure what "self" is anymore?

The noise machine of our culture is so big, so overwhelming, so dominating. It's easy to get washed away. And you are carried along, and you have no time to make connections. And there's nothing to hold onto.  That is a feeling of being lost. Totally lost. Lost.

War - What is it Good For?

I was reminded that there is a war going on. Maybe there is always a war. There is the battle between the dark and the light. And maybe everything else flows out from there.

I hate to think that conflict undergirds everything. Can it really be that…

Love is War by other means.
Relationships are War by other means.
Business is War by other means.
Politics is War by other means.
Art is War by other means.
Life is War by other means.

Do we embrace the conflict? Or ignore it? And if we ignore it, is that just a secret and covert War? And what of our warring minds, our warring hearts?

Aging. Yes. It's Like That!

Aging. Right. Think of one of those old Xerox machines. You know like an earlier version with lots of mechanical parts, and toner and special paper. A kind of old world machine. Imagine this old, and kind of clunky copier. Not too good. This is all a metaphor… right?

And think of a copy of a copy, of a copy of a copy, etc. A copy of copy over and over and over. With each copy the outlines of the image grow fainter, things sort of smudge around the edges. There are little variations. Specks of dust. The toner sort bleeds out on the image. There is noise. No longer clean edges.  Everything gets a little fainter, and smudgier, and noisier, and finally the image starts to slowly fade and disappear.

Yes, it's like that.

Simple-Minded

I have spent a lot of my time trying to "figure" life. You know, approach it like it's a puzzle that can be solved. Where did I get such an idea? My shelves are filled with books, my head is filled with information, and images, and thoughts, and dreams, and worries, and fears. I have kept up my quest over many, many years, thinking that maybe the next idea, the next novel, the next movie, the next person, the next experience would clarify things. I have had my little moments of enlightenment, but they have been brief and fleeting, and really, I haven't solved or figured out much of anything at all. I don't know if this is a failure on my part, or some kind of well-earned wisdom. I think, maybe, life isn't really meant to be figured, maybe there really is nothing to solve. Life - you can only live it. So simple, it seems simple-minded. And maybe there's some kind of answer, right there.

"Fair-Weather" Runner!

I wasn't a runner, then I became a runner, then I became an obsessive runner, then I stopped for awhile, then I became an occasional, "fair-weather" runner. That's where I'm at now. If the weather is good, and I'm feeling up to it, I do like to run for up to an hour.  If you don't run, or if you don't run for very long, it's hard to understand how running can be rewarding. If you watch people run, you see the effort, you see "the pain." But of course, there is an upside. But it's something you just have to experience for yourself. Working up to a distance takes a little work, a little pain, but there is that endorphin kick that makes it all worthwhile. Plus there seems to be those benefits to your body and  mind.

I was one of those "dupes" who tried those Five Finger shoes. I ran in them a couple times, thinking that "barefoot running" was the newest, greatest thing.  But then I put them back on the shelf and never used them again.  They definitely changed the running experience, changed the muscles I used to run, and there were a couple moments where it seemed like a "better" experience. But it also felt like more work.  And whatever benefit there might have been was probably illusory. And now the "evidence" seems to be that the claims for Five Fingers were a bunch of hooey. So I never have to put my toes in those things ever again, they will just gather dust on the shelf. It's regular running shoes for me. And hoping for fair weather!

Angels Have No Gender!

Yes, still plowing through Tony Fletcher's great book on The Smiths.  There is something interesting on just about every page. Nicely written. What a band. Sometimes the more you know about an artist or band, the less you like them, and sometimes the more you know, the more you like them.  For me, it's the latter. Morrissey and Marr are both really fascinating characters. Very similar backgrounds, totally different personalities. Great complementary talents. And their songwriting collaboration was one of the great wonders of the world. They were both in bands before The Smiths, and it's kind of a lucky thing that those bands never made it.  Love the names. Marr was in White Dice and Freak Party... and Morrissey was in Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds and, get this, absolutely love this one... Angels Have No Gender!

To Me Popular Music is...

Well, maybe I will let Morrissey weigh in on "popular music." He is always enlightening and quotable. And isn't it empowering, significant and liberating, if you can define things the way you want to define them?

"To me popular music is still the voice of the working class, collective rage in a way, though seldom angst ridden. But it does really seem like the one sole opportunity for someone from a working class background to step forward and have their say. It's really the last refuge for articulate but penniless humans."- Morrissey (1984)

What is the Authentic Voice?

Yes, I'm reading a book about The Smiths. And maybe that's why thoughts of money and class are forefront in my consciousness. And then, I also recently read that article about Elvie Thomas and Geeshie Wiley, and the whole idea of the "authentic voice" kind of resonates. Voices of the poor, the struggling, the under-class, the dismissed, the invisible. Folks. Singing songs about life and love and death and mystery.

What makes some artists more "authentic" than others? We are all human, we all feel pain, we all can love, we all will grow old and die. Pop music sort of encompasses and swallows up the folk. We do like our origin stories... scruffy Liverpool lads rising to pop royalty, young drug dealer rapping about life on the streets becomes an international brand. That is the glory of pop.

We don't begrudge someone who comes from nothing, and then achieves some kind of pop apotheosis. That is the arc of the story we love. But then the money, the success, that becomes the reality. And who really wants to hear about the problems of the rich and the well-heeled?

Can a rich kid sing the blues convincingly? Can a 1%-ter write a song that resonates with us all? Can we separate the art from the artist? What works? And again, in our over-sexed, over-hyped pop world everything seems mixed up, sometimes everything is intentionally artificial, and in some way, everything can seem inauthentic. Can the truly artificial, inauthentic also reveal a resonant truth?

The celebration of bling is pretty ridiculous, tired and stupid. I guess the question you always have to ask, is "what is this music saying to me?" What is "the meaning?" Does this music really, authentically "speak to me?" I think we respond to songs of honesty, of some reality, of some deep humanness. We expect our best artists to know a bit about life.  We want music that feeds the soul... at least I think that's what I want from the best of the music I listen to.

Jeane 

There's ice on the sink where we bathe 

So how can you call this a home 

When you know it's a grave ? 

The Children of the 1% Have the Right to Rock Too!?

I am sympathetic to Sean Lennon. I mean, it must be an incredible "double-edged sword" to be the son of a famous rock and roll couple. A great privilege and a heavy burden.

I was surprised at my own reaction to Sean's latest band, I thought, "Children of the 1%!" It's all so well-posed, so perfectly-fashioned.  You think, "so stylish... so precious." Why does it all seem sort of silly?

Sean seems like the little boy in the bubble. Maybe he's trying too hard to be cool? I know it's all unfair, he can't help who he is, he can't help that he comes from money, he can't help that he's got a beautiful, fashion-model type girlfriend. He can't help that his band is perfectly outfitted with snazzy duds and the coolest, most hip instruments...

Why does it all seem so posed, so inauthentic? What does inauthentic even mean in our pop culture world? What is authenticity? Does it matter? Why am I even asking myself these questions?

I don't know. My own thoughts on Sean and his band made me uncomfortable. I mean the children of the 1% have a right to make music too. And they do sort of look cool... right?!

More About the National!

I wrote a post about the National's show at the Sydney Opera house. I was truly swept up and blown away by the concert. I just watched it again with a friend, and she too was totally bowled over. We both have listened to a few of their records over and over, and we love the records we have, but to be honest, I had my doubts about how well they would come across in a live setting. I didn't realize that many of their songs have an almost "anthem"-like quality.

I mean, they are a serious, somewhat dour band.  Their lyrics are sort elliptical, or maybe just a little complex,  certainly, intelligent, and there are so many good "one-liners" and their songs are unique with odd and astonishing imagery. I guess I was surprised that lots and lots of people would be singing along with them.

And Matt Berninger  looks like a philosophy or an economics professor, or maybe a mathematician or something. He looks and sounds like a guy who actually reads books, and not just comic books and music magazines. And it's just so satisfying and exhilarating to watch him give himself up to the crowd. Not what I expected to see, at all.

And the band, well, they are phenomenal. And they have perfected their live presentation to the point where they can go from a quiet, quirky, moody, piece and then bring it to a massive, cathartic crescendo. And they can bring that kind of dynamic fire to a two hour plus show.  Amazing. Exhilarating. Surprising. Rewarding.

The Dark Lord of the Bottomless Pit in Oklahoma!

This is pretty funny... and maybe logical too.  If there is to be a monument to the Bible at the Oklahoma Statehouse, how about one dedicated to the Dark Lord of the Bottomless Pit? Let the competing monuments duke it out! I mean we live the dichotomy, why not display it too?  In a way, I suppose the two monuments will sort of cancel each other out... which makes some kind of existential sense, right?!

It's a Revelation!

This true story by John Jeremiah Sullivan has totally enraptured me.  I read it, then re-read it, and hell, maybe will read it again. As they say, "On the trail of the phantom women who changed American music and then vanished without a trace."

It's a story about the country blues, and the people who wrote and sang it, and then about those who recorded the music on old 78's and then later, the people who fell in love with the authenticity and astonishing beauty of the music, and hunted for and collected old records that no one else really considered collectible. It's about life and history, and the human story. It's about myth and legend, and stories and story-telling too. And how people live and disappear. And how just a few people here and there can change the course of history.

It's beautifully written. It's a revelation. You should read it!

Idiots - Infinite Varieties!

Idiot. Being an idiot crosses all boundaries, all occupations. There are even idiot scientists. Not a lot, but a few, and they are useful tools for the climate change deniers in their campaign to confuse the issue.

Some things are not in doubt... for instance the accumulation of co2 in the atmosphere.  Which can/will cause all kinds of man-made havoc!

"I literally cannot imagine a statement that would be more scientifically incorrect and humiliating than the one Professor Woodcock made," says Ryan Cooper, from whom I learned about this. "It's like saying you don't believe in the existence of cheese....It's no wonder that only six percent of scientists are Republican."

Kerry's "Dangerous Idea!"

"John Kerry tells the truth..."  and if you are the Secretary of State, well, that is just not tolerated. I have always been confused by the idea of "democracy, "and a "Jewish" state, they seem like two different things, not one thing. Especially when many, many people, 1.6 million of them are "Arabs," who happen to live there too.

It's a very charged issue, with lots of angry people on both sides. And neither side really wants to compromise or recognize the rights of the other side. But neither side can wish the other away. There are probably no simple answers, that's why it's been a thorny, bloody problem for a long time.

And a "two-state solution" seems too contrived too.  What if instead all people in the land were given all their full human rights? One state, like a mosaic, like a true democracy? I know even asking the question is controversial... but if we drop the mask, look clearly, it's obvious that  a "Jewish" state or "Muslim" state, or "Christian" state is already part of the problem, and anti-democratic, and leads to the latest "apartheid" state.

A Million Ways to Be Stupid!

There are so many stories in the news this morning that seem to prove that there are million ways to be stupid, and very few ways to be smart, and well, many of us just go with stupid. It's so much easier, and there's lots more company.

I could link to a bunch of really stupid stories, but I mean, why spread the stupid? Open your eyes and ears.

It turns out that stupidity does not go away if you happen to have lots of money in your bank account. Turns out rich people are just as stupid as any one else, and in fact may just have more opportunities to display, to flaunt their stupidity.

And the stupid really burns. And it's possible it is going to doom us all. And I guess there is some poetic justice in that, Maybe our elaborate cultural edifice will crumble because of our super-human stupidities.  

Maybe we really will get what we deserve. I guess, that is called "Justice!"

One of the Best, If Not the Best!

Speaking of "live shows," the National were recently in Chicago, and they played a four-night stand at the Chicago Theater. We missed it, but it's exciting, and kind of rewarding, to think that the National are popular enough to fill that theater four nights in a row.  I wrote about their "High Violet" record here. 

I did seek out a live concert, and found this amazing show they did outside the Sydney Opera House. What a perfect match of band and venue.  5000 screaming, engaged Aussies. The National have quietly become one of the best, if not the best, working band in the land. I love the way they have slowly built up a following, without a Top Forty hit, without altering their very serious and challenging approach.

They are so "un-rock-star-like." Which I like very much.  Totally rewarding. The songs grow on you, the strange, elliptical, evocative lyrics have a real emotive punch, and the band is just such a musical power-house. The show literally left me in tears of joy by the final, exhilarating note.

Quite the Show!

I wrote about last Friday's whitewolfsonicprincess show in our r&r diary here.  It truly was an extraordinary night.  Didn't know what to expect, for some reason I was a little worried about how many folks would come out to see us. All the cosmic forces worked in our favor.  The band was tight and focused, and loose and lively. And the audience was incredible. The place was packed.

Now I am a believer in the idea that your show can not be dependent on the audience. And you must play with complete commitment no matter if the audience is big or small, sober or drunk, lively or dead, engaged or indifferent.  It doesn't matter. You must play with total focus and commitment! 

But it just so happens that this night's audience was totally with us every step of the way. And there was an amazing group of folks in the room - artists, poets, mathematicians, yogis, theologians, philosophers, directors, actors, teachers, public defenders, writers, psychics, clairvoyants, radio-hosts, photographers, film-critics, singers, musicians, performance artists and a few "regular citizens" too.

The room was totally alive, we felt like we were really connecting. I've been riding on a cloud ever since… yes, it was quite the show.

Embrace and Let Go!

Yes, I understand, this is easier said than done. But it took me a long time to even think this...

We must embrace the world, and let go too. It's kind of a Zen-like idea. We must open our minds, open our arms, and embrace the things of this world. And hold tight. But then we must let go. Let everything slip out of our embrace, just let it all slip away. And the real trick, and I'm not even sure it's possible, but it's what we should shoot for - we must embrace and let go at the same time, all the time.

A Web of Conspiracies!

I wrote about about our crazed, conspiracy-obsession here.  But then my mind raced, my mind wandered...

If you take a simple definition of conspiracy - "an agreement among conspirators," and apply it broadly... well...in a way, couldn't you say all of our lives are bounded by deep, secret, mysterious conspiracies?

For instance, the conspiracy of physics, of biology, of cosmology. There are all the dark forces starting with The Big Bang on down through the ages. And there are conspirators, actors on the cosmic scale, on the cellular scale, on the subatomic scale.

There are dark doings, behind the reality of all things. Unknown, unseen things, behind all things. So yes, in a way a conspiracy, a web of conspiracies - we are entangled.

Like A Secret!

It's so simple. But true. Every step counts. Every breath too. We may not remember each and every one, most assuredly it's not in our consciousness, many steps and breaths forgotten, not considered important, so like the constant lapping of waves, or the blowing of the tree branches. Moment to moment to moment.

Still, every step is etched in our bodies, every breath too. Every one counts. The body knows, the body remembers, the body holds this knowledge, like a secret, a deep secret that will be revealed when it's time to be revealed.

Brilliant and Thrilling!

This opening credit sequence from True Detective is absolutely brilliant and thrilling. And so happy that the Handsome Family gets some well-earned exposure!

Conspiracies!

I do think we are a conspiracy-theory obsessed culture. We've been lied to so often by the "powers that be," and each other, that it's hard to take anything at face value. If you accept the narrative "as is" you are considered a simpleton. Plus watch any movie, and you will see that anything that happens is not what it seems, there is always a dark secret, a cabal of bad ones pulling the strings. And there have been lots of plots and dark doings. We have been lied to, the truth has been buried. Over and over again. And we tell ourselves this is the way of the world.

But I think we are almost in a Post-Tramatic-Stress Syndrome type situation. We see plots everywhere. We never take the simple road. We no longer trust "the truth." We don't even know what "the truth" means anymore. We are a totally paranoid society.  Maybe for good reason. Of course, we are being lied to and spied on - so our paranoia is well-founded, but even when there are simple answers or explanations, or a truth appears, right before our nose, we doubt it.  We don't trust it. We don't trust anything, even ourselves.

A society without trust, a society with only doubt and fear and elaborate theories of grand conspiracies -it's a sort of madness. A crazed, hair-brained sickness. A hall of mirrors enclosed in a hall of mirrors.

Poisoned, Corroded, Desiccated - Our World!

When Jim Jarmusch makes a movie, it's always a major event. Check out "Dead Man," "Ghost Dog," or "Stranger than Paradise," if you have any doubts.  I had read a review of Jarmusch's latest "Only Lovers Left Alive," and the reviewer said something like… "his bleakest movie since "Dead Man." Now, I consider "Dead Man" to be one of the greatest movies of our "modern era," so this was high praise indeed.

"Only Lovers Left Alive," is sort of an "artsy" vampire movie. Which is a good thing. And it's got some simple and powerful things to say about our, damaged, corrupt and zombie-fied world. Jarmusch uses old world, traditional film techniques, which stand out in today's film landscape as radical stylistic choices - beautifully composed shots, slow, richly-detailed sequences, long takes, stately, dramatic camera movements.

And Jarmusch celebrates a world of old, well-made things. Forgotten things. And holds them up as the important, funky, intelligent, refined things of our world. Two Vampires roam the streets of an abandoned, corroded, desiccated Detroit. These Vampires are intelligent, they read the classics, they collect fine instruments and books. They listen to old 45s.  They live in another reality. One of taste and intelligence. They are elites. Artistic aristocrats.  So contrary to our world of the moment.

And the Vampires lament a world gone by. There's the rogues gallery of "heroes" - Iggy Pop, Edgar Allen Poe, Franz Kafka, Christopher Marlowe, Thelonious Monk, Neil Young, Charlie Feathers, Oscar Wilde… But their world has been over-run by the human zombies, who have poisoned the air, the water and even their own blood… oh yes, this is our world...

Simple Things!

You are left with the simple things… a restful sleep, a good meal, surrounded by a few beings you know and love, engaged in activities that totally consume you… that's pretty much the best of the world. You can learn to respect, and revere, the mystery, and ultimate unknowability, of existence, and this reverence for a limited understanding, can be a source of strength, of a strange beauty, and of a certain, maybe, whimsical hope.

Bounded by Mystery

We are bounded on all sides by mystery. All the important stuff - life, death, love - are really quite baffling and mysterious. We think we know what these things are, and we do to an extent, but what we know seems so paltry, and arbitrary, and conjured up, compared to the immensity, the totality of these things.

We experience, but don't fully know. And if we are uncertain of these things, the most important things, then well, we really are out to sea. And we grapple with wisps of smoke, with clouds, when we try to grasp meaning. If we ask "why" we are left in darkness. Every questions spawns more questions. 

So we live with this darkness, these mysteries, always.

Art. Transformed My Life!

I was in thrall to Gabriel Garcia Marquez' novels. Still am. I was reading Marquez, on a major Marquez kick, at the same time I was heavily into listening to Smiths records.  The 80's. Had an amazing stereo system that was always playing at ear-splitting volume in a tiny apartment.  Marquez conjured another world. I loved "One Hundred Years of Solitude," but I think the "Autumn of the Patriarch" is really my favorite Marquez. It's "difficult" read. Rambling, pages-long sentences. Snaking through my consciousness. Magical. Other-worldly. Marquez reminds me of Melville. Two authors that rank above everyone else. Although I guess I'd put David Foster Wallace in their camp too. You can't deny their power, the totality of their all consuming work. Takes over your life for awhile. I'd read Marquez in silence. It would take concentration to track with him. Then I'd take a break, and put a record on. Often it was the Smiths. Their sound really had nothing to do with what I was reading, but in strange way it was the perfect counter-point. It was kind of an accidental mash-up that made some kind of perfect artistic sense. Art. Transformed my life.

The Fire!

You tell me, "You have to learn to tame the fire." And I think to myself, "I'm only happy when I am stoking the flames." I want those flames to lick the sky. I want that fire to burn, baby, burn.  

A Sucker's Hand

This is good - "How Irony is ruining our culture." And it invokes one of my heroes, David Foster Wallace. We are swimming in a culture of irony, sarcasm, cynicism.  We try to outdo ourselves by distancing ourselves from anything real and heartfelt. The real, the authentic, the heartfelt, are considered a sucker's hand. We are afraid to commit to any kind of honesty, it's easier and considered hipper to sit back and sling the sword of irony. Maybe dropping the irony, dropping the sarcasm and cynicism is scary, leaves you naked and defenseless. And maybe it's just such a "rebel move," to drop the mask. To be open. Open-minded, open-hearted. Alive in the moment, armed with nothing but a simple, defenseless honesty. Maybe sometimes it is worth it to play the sap, in art and in life.

Wheel or No Wheel?

I've probably written a blog similar to this one before, but really, I don't mind…

Do I grab the wheel and hold on with dear life? Do I white-knuckle it? Do I grit my teeth, clench my jaw, hold my arms rigid and will that damn thing to move? Do I keep the game going with "force of will?"

Or do I just let go? Take my hands off the wheel? Relax, sit back, experience the ride, even if the ride is going nowhere? Do I even give up pretending to care? Do I just float, or sit, and not care whether I'm moving forward or backward or not moving at all? Do I just let the idea of "wheel" and "motion" and "will" evaporate?

Follow the Rabbit, Into the Rabbit Hole

Remember when I blogged about "bliss?"  It was so long ago. 2 posts ago. And well, it seems like a million miles, and a million years ago now. Like it never happened. It just evaporated. Like it was just a mirage. And isn't that a kick in the rear? The famous line, "follow your bliss" seems like such a sad joke, just another rabbit hole to fall into.  And that's the nature of bliss, and transcendence, and even enlightenment, or joy.  These states seem to just appear, descend, take us over for a brief time, and then just as suddenly vanish. It's all so ephemeral and sometimes seemingly arbitrary. So like the weather. And it changes day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute.  And we know those intense and lively moments did happen, but when they are gone, you are just left with an echo, a reverberation, a glimmer of light… that now only exists in your mind. You hold it in your mind, but it seems to slowly fade, every moment going forward. And you wonder, "Did I really feel and know that?"

Being the Devil

"Yeah, and remember when that woman read your fortune, and she said that you "lived with the Devil?" And she pointed at me? Remember that? That was pretty funny. And well, I guess, maybe "being the Devil" isn't really what it's cracked up to be. Or maybe it's all just been "main-streamed" and it just doesn't have the ominous, fire and brimstone kick it used to have. Maybe you can  just be an ordinary, cut-rate, dime-store Devil, a little weary and worn out, and not very scary, and well, almost cuddly, in a sad, sort of debauched, sort of way?

Oh Yes, This Is Bliss

Okay, I suppose you can define bliss…"euphoria, utter joy, supreme contentment." But how to explain it? How to understand what brings it on? 

A sunny, warm, blue-sky day.  Bare trees pushing upward. Little green shoots in the ground. Birds hopping, flying and chirping. No compelling reason to do anything but sit still and breathe. An ocean of good feeling floods my body. Unexplainable. Oh yes, this is bliss.

The World of The Smiths!

I've been on a Smiths kick lately. That most cult-like of cult bands. Think 80's Manchester. For me, they are a timeless band, with a timeless discography. They never made a false move. They were unlike any other band on the planet. To my ears they never sounded like anyone else, and no one sounded like them.

I think it was Terry Flamm over at Broken Hearted Toy that re-fired my Smiths love. A nice little review of Johnny Marr's The Messenger.  And then I watched Marr and his band rip through a great set on the Apogee Sessions. Inspiring!

So I just received my copy of Tony Fletcher's book on the Smiths! I expect all roads and thought-trains will lead to and thru the Smiths for awhile…

And then I found out that Johnny Marr is a vegan, a marathon runner, a tee-totaler and a Buddhist.  Oh yeah and probably one of the coolest, greatest guitar stylists who has ever walked the land! And then I found Johnny Marr's great website! Oh man, just the best… check out his guitar collection. Amazing. And what's also amazing is no matter what guitar he plays, no matter what amp, or what strings he uses, the sound is always all Johnny Marr!

The Fox Out-Foxed!

A fox. If you think of your self as a "fox;" smart and cunning, tread carefully. I've been there. I've been "foxy" trying my best to assess the situation, to maximize my potential upside. Sometimes the fox can out-fox himself. So then, an experienced fox also has to wonder, "Is this a case where I'm trying to be too clever? Have I out-clevered myself?"  And I guess there's nothing worse than a self-reflecting fox. Instead of acting in the moment, on instinct, you are stuck in analyzing the situation. Doubt and confusion are at odds with smarts and cleverness.  You have to hope you haven't set yourself up to make a real hash of things. You can see victory, you can see defeat. And you are torn.  

Are You Rich? OK. Then Save Your Breath!

Sometimes "the truth" is just so obvious, so bland and homely, it's so mundane, I mean, it's almost so true its not even worth saying or thinking about, the only thing you can say is "Of course, I mean, I knew that, even if I didn't know I knew that!" Such is the case with Kevin Drum's latest post which actually has some data and charts to back it up... "Nobody Cares What You Think Unless You're Rich!"

A Stunned Joy!

The last few days I have been posing a question to myself. And I've been wrestling with this question. Don't have an answer, it's the question itself, that kind of makes the point.

"Isn't it odd that you are here? That by luck and circumstance you find yourself alive and conscious? So much had to happen, had to unfold, for this to happen. Maybe a universe of circumstances and occurrences had to happen to finally land on "you." And you have a window on consciousness. This window is unique, unlike any other, and it's open for a relatively short time. So this being true, why are you wracked with guilt and anxiety? Why do you wrestle with an existential uncertainty? Why do you have doubt? Shouldn't you just be happy and in a state of wonder? Shouldn't you be thankful that you've lucked into a conscious life? Shouldn't every moment be bounded by a sort of stunned joy?"

Ezra Klein - "How Politics Makes Us Stupid!"

This is an amazing, eye-opening post by Ezra Klein - "How Politics Makes Us Stupid." It examines how we use reason to trick ourselves to adhere to our tribe's worldview - cultural and political.

It explains how some of our deepest political disagreements are immune to the accumulation of "evidence." If the evidence is a threat to our identity within our social group, well, that evidence can be denied, or reformulated, dismissed, discredited. 

We can use "reason" to trick ourselves that our beliefs are believable. Even if the evidence shows us that our beliefs are wrong.  We can use reason to disarm reason. Big example - Climate Change. How can intelligent, engaged people bury their heads in the sand? Well, if all their friends and family have their heads buried too, it's almost a tribal requirement.

And what happens when all the ice melts? 

The whole article begs us to question our own cultural/social/political biases.  What are the biases that our tribe holds that leads us to close our eyes to the "real world?"

The Few vs. The Many

If you are a progressive, you tend to believe that we are moving towards a more equitable society, an open society that recognizes the rights of all. You tend to think that this is the inevitable arc of human progress. You actually see progress, and not just the churning wheel.

And over the last 30 or so years, you could point to progress on some key social fronts, women's rights, gay rights, minority rights. But at the same time there seems to be a fundamental inequality that underlies everything. Economic Inequality.

And that inequality undermines everything else.  There is a new book, that is all the rage, "Capital in the 21st Century," and it seems this book lays out the case that inequality is inevitable in late stage capitalism.

So yes, the 99% vs the 1% is not a mirage. It's an inevitable state that unrolls as capitalism hurtles onward. It's natural and inevitable that wealth concentrates in fewer and fewer hands. Money makes money, and works for itself. And more and more people are left out in the cold.

And all that concentrated wealth skews our politics and our society. And the only way to reverse this a program of drastic measures with the goal of income redistribution.  This smacks of "socialism," or "communism" or whatever, but without a political class working against income inequality at the root, we end up with a wealthy few lording over the unhealthy many. It's a flaw in capitalism...