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I posted a brand new short story here called Fourteen, I’ve posted the Monthly Review’s excellent critique of the Internet and capitalism in the old readin’ room, and I’ve made my first blog in months at the Paltry Sapien, joining the conversation about Occupy Wall Street.
More later as time and enthusiasm permit.
From my last round of story/novel queries, all my rejections are finally back. So it’s time to send another bunch of stuff out into the ether. I’ve gone through my work again and done some more tweaking and polishing, some of the results of which I’ve uploaded here on my blog.
“The Kid Who Had It All” has received a makeover. It’s the story of a kid whose family perennially disappoints him. But suddenly, on the other side of the backyard gooseberry bush, he finds himself in an amazing new world of astronauts, ballerinas, as well as a very unnerving laser show.
Blind Spot is a novel that I’ve shopped around for a year or so. An editor at Random House loved it! But times are difficult in publishing right now, and it’s tough to find a market for a book with such a prickly narrator. Nevertheless, meet Luke, who appears here in Chapter 1, which is now fully revised. This is the one part of the book that had troubled me, largely because it had adopted an excessively laconic tone, which was not entirely representative of the rest of the book. Now it is fixed. I hope.
I’ve also started work on a new project called Independence Corner. Who knows how long it will last, given these early and perilous days.
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Not on the subject of fiction, I’ve added another article to my publications page. It’s about a drug treatment camp in the Alberta Rockies. Called “Road to Recovery,” it was published in summer 2007.
Rip! A Remix Manifesto, directed by Brett Gaylor, is a co-production of the National Film Board of Canada and Eye Steel Films. It cost approximately $1 million to make, and over the past few months, has been garnering awards on the festival circuit. This week it opens in many theatres across Canada — but the NFB has made it available in full on their website, and in keeping with the ethos of the enterprise, it would be a lost opportunity to not post at least one small serving of the film here.
more about “RiP! A Remix Manifesto“, posted with vodpod
If this is the future of film, time-transport me back to the past. RiP! is to film what a scramble is to eggs: satisfying to some, but hardly a creative use of the raw materials. The issues had so much potential: the stranglehold by corporations over copywright law; the invasive spread of patent to include living organisms; and the perennial favourite, “what is art?”
The apparent protagonists of this film — remix musician Girl Talk, and Brett Gaylor himself — know in advance the answers to all the questions they raise. They are listless and strangely incurious people, not interested in the relationship between capitalism and innovation, or in modes of production, or in questions about art’s responsibility to represent, question, challenge, or subvert reality. About the most subversive artistic act evoked in this film is sticking cartoon features on evil George W. Bush’s face.
In the worldview of RiP! our planet is teeming with ideas and cultural artifacts like a giant museum, except this museum is, like, fun. All the world needs is to stop with the oppression, let everyone inside this museum of Cool, let people mess around with stuff, and new and even cooler things will emerge. At every opportunity, we are forcibly reminded of just how cool the protagonists in this struggle are, thanks to Gaylor’s incessant use of the word “cool” itself, or only slightly less ham-handedly through visual cues: Girl Talk posing with Paris Hilton; or how about Girl Talk and his girlfriend in bed, interspersed with images of a frumpy employee of the Register of Copywrights. Young, sexy, and dancing = Good; middle-aged, overweight, awkward, wearing a suit = Bad.
When he’s not using the imagery of body fascism to make his point, Gaylor simply bludgeons you with circular logic. “Girl Talk’s music is obviously creative,” he states matter-of-factly. It’s obviously creative because it draws on the “Remix Manifesto” — the origins of which Gaylor never truly explains.
Obvious? Obviously not obvious to the frumpy copyright expert, who diplomatically says, “You can’t argue your creativity when it’s based on other people’s stuff.”
Ah ha, but Gaylor has History to back him. Muddy Waters sang other people’s songs, as did the Rolling Stones — except those rascally Stones then turned around and sued The Verve for stealing the score for “Bittersweet Symphony.”
“Nothing is new under the sun” of course. Who can argue it? Artists borrow, reinvent, adapt — some even flagrantly steal. The central problem of RiP! is one of scale. Gaylor presents some of the greatest hits of corporate stupidity over the last decade — major corporations suing poor little families for downloading two dozen songs, as if this is a genuine battle of David and Goliath, and we all know how that one turned out. It would be reassuring, were it not for the fact that thus far, outside of a few lost music royalties, Goliath is actually enjoying a largely uncontested battlefield. We live in a corporate kleptocracy of ever-greater audacity — wherein a good portion of the loot is swindled right in front of our eyes — and there’s damn little the download generation has done about it.
I digress. It would be unfair to not point out that there are parts of RiP! that, at the very least, are informative. It’s interesting to discover the changes in copyright law, and to learn that the Unites States used to permit the wholescale reproduction of foreign authors’ works with no compensation, the profits of which sometimes went to supporting homegrown authors (the example cited is Charles Dickens sales enabling Mark Twain’s success).
Nevertheless, these nuggets are buried in a film that is a sloppy mess; its very structure proving that a throw-everything-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks method will rarely work.
I have often felt that film is a kindred spirit to the novel both in scope and ambition. Both succeed primarily by virtue of their powers of narrative persuasion. RiP! falls flat because, by any conventional measure of a narrative, it has no plot. Don’t look for conflict or struggle in the story of Girl Talk and Brett Gaylor. They start the film in love with themselves and each other; they finish the film the same way. No epiphanies, no engagement with their adversary, no struggle.
At one point, Gaylor gushes enthusiastically at the spectacle of a Girl Talk show, saying, “What these kids are doing on this dance floor are unravelling that control [of the past over the present]. The future and the past are duelling it out right here on the dancefloor. Whoever wins gets to decide if ideas will be determined by the public domain or private corporations.”
If you believe getting high at a rave is the required effort for Change, or that clicking a cursor to rip off some new Arcade Fire tune is an act of rebellion, then RiP! might well be inspiring.
What truly boggles the mind is that RiP! failed to even answer the following question: how does art continue to get made if nobody pays for it? Brett Gaylor solved this problem by finding a public agency prepared to pony up taxpayers’ money for his project. Sadly, this is not a solution that will work for everyone; nor is it a solution that Gaylor even acknowledges with any gratitude in his film.
Enjoy this classic from the NFB. It brings joy to even the most disconsolate writer — i.e. me, right now.
more about "The Cat Came Back by Cordell Barker, …", posted with vodpod
Why do I persist in using so clunky and pretentious a term as psychogeography to describe what could simply be considered a stroll around town? I guess it is because I wish that “the study of the precise laws and specific effects of the geographical environment, organized or not, on the emotions and behavior of individuals” — as defined by Guy Debord years ago — was more commonly recognized as a valid field of inquiry like, say, economics. Can something as simple as the distance of a building from the curb influence how humans feel and act? I believe that answer is a resounding yes. It is remarkable to me that western civilization has permitted so much unchecked development — especially the sprawl of suburbia — without enacting any formalized study of the results of such development. Sure, we know some of the basics — that suburbs encourage more driving and a sedentary lifestyle — but how much time has spent studying how people actually feel and behave?
It is has been observed, for example, that if a street is organized such that people park on the side of the road in order to stop and frequent the businesses in the neighbourhood, the line of parked cars that develops over the course of a day encourages pedestrian activity. Pedestrians like the parked cars because they act as a buffer between them and the traffic.
Boulevard St. Laurent, south of Jean Talon, is a pedestrian-friendly zone, because of businesses and parked cars on both sides of the road. As soon as you head north of rue Jean Talon, however, the emergence of Parc Jarry — as beautiful as it is — results in a sharp drop in pedestrian traffic. Why? Because traffic starts to move differently in this area. No one stops their car and gets out and shops and comes back and drives away again — activity that slows the surge of cars in the main part of the street. No, if people park at all, it is for long periods of time. Thus the flow of traffic is mainly unimpeded and St. Laurent becomes chiefly a thoroughfare — several lanes of fast-moving traffic in both directions. When I’m walking in the area, I deliberately avoid St. Laurent, opting for a quiet residential street instead.
It is perhaps nauseating for me to repeat this, but I believe that because so much of Montreal has been organized (whether deliberately or not) in a way that creates street life, that people generally are more sociable and happier. I notice the same in New York City.
At the very least, I know that I am certainly happier. Often, all it takes to cheer me up is to leave the apartment and walk around for a while. Once the weather improves enough for me to do some of my very favourite Montreal walks, I will post some of them here…
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More on urban planning and — yes — even psychogeography, from the folks at Spacing, always worth a visit. And let’s not forget Spacing Montreal.
I have become distrustful of power. I am not talking about the crackly stuff that comes through the wall and into my stereo where it becomes rockin’ good tunes. No sir. I am talking about the power that one person exercises over another, or a group of people exercise over the unwashed masses. For example, I heard from a reliable source yesterday (someone with a PhD) that the police (either the Montreal or London police, can’t remember which) are working on a form of incapacitating weapon which they fire at people who are getting out of line. Once assaulted with this weird new weapon, the unruly person is covered in a quick-drying foam and thus immobilized.
There is only one catch. Sometimes the problem-person is suffocated!
It’s rather like Tasers. In that case, occasionally the miscreant has a heart attack and dies!
I know I’m adding exclamation marks to the end of my sentences, but I do actually take this very seriously. I don’t understand the justification for power any more. Why do police get to stop people at whim and ask them questions? Why am I not allowed, in turn, to stop a police officer and ask him questions? And why are there border guards? Why is it that geese get to fly over borders wherever they feel like it and nobody checks their passports?
Why did humans decide that they should have fewer rights than geese?
There has been consternation swirling around the issue of cats recently at my Verdun residence. The cats in question are called Ebene and Giroffle, and while not controversial figures themselves, they have generated no small amount of consternation on my part. My relations with both cats have been amicable, especially in the last few months. Giroffle, who was reticent at first, was slowly emerging from his shell and venturing into my bedroom with increasing frequency. This was not a problem. I like cats. I would never say, “Get out of here, Giroffle,” or even, “Get out of here, Ebene.” I mean, Ebene has been like a buddy to me in these times of relative solitude on the homefront.
However, the improved relations with felines became the very source of my later consternation. Antoine, my Quebecois roommate, had been leaving every Thursday morning to go ski and practice guitar in the rural quiet of the Laurentides. He did not come back until Mondays — sometimes even Tuesdays. This left me the sole custodian of the cats’ emotional wellbeing for 4-5 days at a stretch.
On day one, the cats were OK. By day 3, they would start to become agitated. By days four and five, they would turn into mad little monsters, tearing around the place, fighting and seething with resentment at their enforced loneliness. They would venture into my bedroom, hoping for me to engage them in some tummy rubbing, which would distract them from their emotional distress. But there is only so much tummy rubbing I can provide. By midnight, I’d be ready to enter the Land of Nod. But the cats weren’t ready for me to enter the Land of Nod. No. It didn’t matter to Ebene and Giroffle that I had assignments due the next day or presentations to prepare or what have you.
This sad state of affairs reached a boiling point after a particularly sleep-deprived weekend about 14 days ago. I told Antoine that we had to find a way to placate the cats. He was sympathetic to my cause. Maybe he noticed the bags under my eyes.
When Antoine goes away, he now takes the cats with him. And when weekends come around, I sleep in calm and quiet.
The Guardian has interviewed James Lovelock, a renowned British scientist, who recently concluded that ”global warming has passed the tipping point, and catastrophe is unstoppable.” Despite his dire predictions, James Lovelock remains cheerful, optimistic and jovial.
Humanity is in a period exactly like 1938-9, he explains, when “we all knew something terrible was going to happen, but didn’t know what to do about it.” But once the second world war was under way, “everyone got excited, they loved the things they could do, it was one long holiday … so when I think of the impending crisis now, I think in those terms. A sense of purpose – that’s what people want.”
I find these words rather consoling. I have actually been discussing the end of the world with increasing frequency. Sometimes I get so worried about it that I start to feel guilty about doing things like (for example) trying to publish a book. I say to myself, “I should drop everything to help combat climate change!”
But what if that battle has already been lost and, instead, another fresh chapter in human history is about to begin? What if we are about to lose 80% of the world’s population? What if vast cities like London and New York are soon to vanish underwater — not to mention countless dwellings in developing nations? Then what?
After all that, maybe there IS reason for optimism. A new way of life would be forced upon us, and that way of life might be preferable to the one we have now.
The biggest tragedy in my mind is not that we’re bringing the world to environmental collapse (an event which is precipitated in part by very attributes that make our species so great: generosity manifested in gift-giving, invention, the desire to make life more comfortable for our children) but instead, the awful comportment of human beings towards one another. And to animals. Greed, selfishness and covetousness. It isn’t greed, per se, that makes millions of people get up every morning, drive to work, and pollute the planet. More likely than not, it’s just a desire to put food on that table. But it is greed that makes an entrepeneur hire immigrant labour, treat them like dirt and pay them less than the minimum wage.
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Before I read about James Lovelock, I was going to write a post called, “Things have been better since I came out of hiding.” It was to talk about the fact that I started openly admitting to being a writer a few years ago, and slowly but surely, my fortunes have improved ever since. Especially so in Montreal, where I basically introduced myself to the whole city as a writer.
I did not do this earlier because I was ashamed. I get ashamed easily. There seemed to be something furtive, sneaky and anti-social about writing. To talk about it would be like talking about masturbation. It would just be rather embarrassing and inappropriate. And indeed, when I first talked about it, that’s how I felt. It took a while to be at ease with it.
Let’s not even mention my profound misgivings about even saying “writer” when one has published so little.
Neverthless, whatever the misgivings, past or present… I do think of myself as a writer. And that has made all the difference. It hasn’t made anything easier. In fact, it has made many things a lot harder. A writer’s temperament can be detrimental to his or her own personal development. There are still days I wake up or go to bed, shaking with disgust with who I am. Because I live in perennial judgement of my own actions, still unsure whether I am the hero or villian of my own life. But these moments are fewer and further between.
Even if everything went to hell — for me, just as it will for the world — there is nothing inherently better about success than failure. Not when looked at in the very broadest light possible. If you aren’t afraid to lose absolutely everything, including your reputation, maybe you’ve achieved the ultimate freedom.
Tonight I’m giving something new a go. I am going to keep a live blog on the debate in Ohio at the Cleveland State University between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, both of whom who are vying to be president of a fairly well known country in North America called USA!
Brian Williams of MSNBC who looks like he is made from plastic is giving the usual introduction and thanking everyone for making this great night happen. Apparently, there are very few rules to this debate. Although if Hillary Clinton spits any venom at her adversary, I am sure she’ll be ruled out of order!
OK, let me pay attention to what’s going on here for a bit.
9:06pm. (ET) Clinton has had to be on the defensive from the word go, being forced to explain her aggressive stance toward Obama and in particular, the appearence of a photo of Obama in Somali traditional dress on the Drudge Report. This gives Obama the chance to nod his head and look sombre and… well… more presidential than his adversary.
9:11pm. Well, technology is botching my first live blog! This MSNBC streaming broadcast is spluttering along worse than my 1988 Dodge Aries before I was forced to sell it to a dump.
What can I tell you about the debate, therefore? Well, this is getting testy, folks! From as far as I can tell, Clinton is attacking Obama for having a lousy healthcare plan. Obama, meanwhile, is attacking Clinton for getting negative in her campaigning. But what will either candidate do as president to stop lousy MSNBC streaming live video, huh?
Now Clinton is sounding indignant, saying something about why would Obama insure children but not the parents — the breadwinners? Good point. I don’t know why either candidate doesn’t acknowledge Canada’s superiority in this particular issue! I would like to hear them say, “Let’s just do it the way they do it up north!”
9:17pm Maybe lousy MSNBC has its advantages. It just froze a facial expression on Clinton’s face that was pure gold. She wanted to spit venom at Obama, no doubt about it. In fact, I think she would have liked to eat his face clean off his neck!
9:20pm. Boy, now Clinton is attacking the format of the debate itself. She is “finding it curious” that she always has to answer the first question. If I were her political strategist, I would be sticking pins in my eyes right now. That was not smart politics, even if the accusation had merit, which I am not in a position to say, seeings how this is only the second debate I’ve watched!
9:23pm. This debate has become so garbled that I am not only unable to fully report what is going on, I am also contemplating a move to another live-blogging venue, i.e. from Teena’s place to Ed’s place because Ed has a big fancy tellyvision. Huzzah for Ed!
I did manage to gather that they’re talking about free trade. The moderator is asking a question that name dropped Canada and Mexico! Canada… that’s us! Will Clinton opt out of NAFTA if better terms for America aren’t negotiated? Clinton seems to be hedging on that question. Boy, from my totally cloudy vantage point here, she sure is getting all the hard questions. Was NAFTA good for America? Clinton is arguing that NAFTA was advantageous to some parts of USA and not for others. Hmmm. Maybe the same could be said about free market capitalism in general, eh? Winners and losers!
Labour and environmental standards must be toughened up, says Clinton. Foreign companies must not be allowed to sue the USA for protecting its workers. I wonder what this means for the softwood lumber issue, wherein the USE is consistently ruled out of order for slapping tariffs on Canadian lumber. Is Clinton contemplating renegotiating NAFTA so that USA just gets eternal immunity on these issues?
Free trade when it works for us, and when it doesn’t, boo sucks to free trade. That’s what I’m hearing.
9:34 pm. This debate is a downer, man! What happened to the upbeat tone of the debate of several weeks ago? Gloomy gloomy gloomy. Is the USA headed for a recession or something? I get the clear impression that it is. Neither candidate has smiled or offered “hope” in 30 minutes, and you can’t blame MSNBC for that.
9:36 pm. “The most important foreign policy decision in a generation.” According to Barack Obama, that’s the IRAQ WAR! Yes, and Bush bungled it. And one must assume that he means that Clinton bungled it, too. Bunch of bunglers! “It’s a question of judgement.” I agree, Obama. Or may I call you Barack?
9:39 pm. According to Clinton, this fella Barack Obama said he would bomb Pakistan. Good grief… What a rush being able to bandy about the BOMB word like that, and be able to consider following through with the threat if made president. Scary, scary. “Who’s making the decision to drive the bus into the ditch?” asks Obama, wanting to return the subject to Clinton’s lousy decision to wage war on Iraq. Good point. That bombing Pakistan issue was getting scary. Pakistan has nuclear bombs, man.
9:42. pm. So what’s the exit strategy for Iraq? Obama is first to answer this one. If Iraq doesn’t want us there, then we shouldn’t be there, that’s what Obama says.
9:49 pm. I have a headache. I have had the same headache now for over two days, as faithful readers will no doubt know. I wonder if the next president of the USA will be able to find a cure for the common headache. Tylenol and Ibuprofen just aren’t cutting it right now.
Anyway, back to the debate. They’re taking a commercial break. Maybe during the break they’ll fix whatever crappy server is serving up this slow-as-molasses streaming bowl of crapola.
My breaktime reflections? Basically, the world is going to hell in handbasket. I’m not sure why either candidate would want to be the one taking all the blame for it a year from now. But if either of them gets the job, at least let’s have a nice guy like Obama. Hillary Clinton is scary! I think we’re seeing the slow unraveling of someone who expects power to be served to her on a plate every morning. Now what is she going to do? She’s toast!
BREAKTIME OVER! BACK TO THE DEBATE.
Teena just called her friends in USA. They are not watching the debate. Wow. That makes three people up in Canada, none of us going to vote, watching the debate for no apparent reason but our own entertainment.
9:55 pm. Obama is now speaking about the special interests that are dominating Washington. Who are those special interests? Why do they get such special treatment? If I got treated as specially as a special interest, maybe I wouldn’t be over $20,000 in debt and have a headache right now. Yeah, Obama is totally right on this one. Bush and Cheney have NOT being going out to bat for the average American. They’ve been out batting for their corporate fat piggy friends!
9:59 pm. MSNBC is playing a clip where Obama called Hillary Clinton the “co-president” during the Clinton years. In other news, ED CRACKED THE CODE! He found a new site that is streaming this debate without all the annoying spluttering bits! Hoorah! Now your faithful correspondent can report on stuff even more faithfully!
Obama now says that he does not begrudge Hillary her experience during the 1990s. He says she cannot claim credit for the good things that happened and at the same time deny responsibility for the bad things that happened.
10:04 pm. My blog ate the last paragraph I wrote. Technology bites our proverbial ass again! I’m not going to rewrite that paragraph. It was good though. Believe me. Clinton is now getting grilled for not releasing publicly her tax return something or another. This sounds like a very tough question indeed! Oh boy. Stay tuned for the response.
10:09 pm. Clinton is sounding evasive on this one. “I’ve hardly had time to sleep,” she just said. I don’t know if that cuts it as an excuse. If I don’t get time to sleep, I’m still expected to turn in my homework at school. You better believe it. “We’ll move as expeditiously as possible,” she says. “As soon as possible.” This is all sounding like waffling.
10:10 pm. Now it’s time for Obama’s tough question. Does he accept the support of Louis Farrakhan, head of Nation of Islam, who called Judaism a “gutter religion.” Obama is handling this better than Clinton handled her toughie, no doubt about it. He said that I can’t stop someone saying that “I’m a good guy,” but that he finds Farrakhan’s comments unacceptable.
More questions about Judaism. Obama calls himself a “stalwart ally of Israel.”
10:14 pm. Now Clinton is trying to outdo Obama on the love for Israel. Clinton is saying she not only denounces Israel hatread but also rejects it. Semantics! Obama makes a joke that makes Clinton looks like a lamo and people applaud.
Clinton is not only toast. She is burned toast.
WELL, THAT’S ABOUT IT, FOLKS!
There were technically another 15 minutes of debate, but this blogsite had a meltdown and our faithful blogger (me) could no longer serve the blogreadership the way he would have wished. Why does technology crash during historic moments? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much as I enjoyed struggling to write it. In the 26 minutes that elapsed since the end of the debate, the MSNBC consensus was that Obama won and Clinton lost. And I agree. Expect the eventual nomination to follow the same trend. Obama is now as unstoppable as an express train, as momentuous as a big bang, as volcanic as lava!
He’s the next president of the USA, that’s my prediction! Good night.
Today was my fourth “shift” on my manuscript since the New York conference, but the first that felt like a genuine success. I enjoyed writing. I felt like I was on a roll. I was only at work for two solid hours, but they were productive and I didn’t slow down for a minute. I had a feeling it would take a while to get back into this manuscript, and events have borne out this feeling. This project has been going since October 2005. No wonder it sometimes feels like a burden. There is now quite a weight behind this damn book… weight of experience and of expectations. When I started, I was unemployed, single, and quite unhappy. Now I am a grad student, a freelancer for the Edmonton Journal, in a long-term relationship, and living in a different city. And yet the manuscript is still the same manuscript, with the same characters and more or less the same central story.
One of the most difficult things about working on a long project is keeping the enthusiasm for the project alive. I am glad to say that as of today, my enthusiasm is still very much alive.
