Black Box Miasma

Mexico City Journal: Metallica

2009-06-17T21:06:20Z

Mexico City Journal

Last week a friend asked me if I liked stadium concerts. No, I said, I avoid stadium bullshit. The bands are too big, their crowds too massive, and the whole thing sucks.
What if it's a band you love, he asked, like Metallica?
Fuck Metallica, I said, They're old; they're past their prime; and they pissed me off with the whole Napster bullshit.
Hmm... Well, he said, Dave got us tickets to see them on Sunday.
No shit?
No shit. So you still uninterested in going?
Well fuck yeah I'm interested in going.
You pinche puta.

So we went and it was awesome. The Mexican crowd knew all the words (I, on the other hand, forgot everything except for the chorus) and the crowd was totally into it. Oddly, there weren't many pits, but that was a nice change of pace. The few pits that did spring up were unpopulated. We rushed into one, but there were only about 5 people in the pit. As F and I rushed in, we saw two guys facing off, ready to start fighting - for real. Both had their hands up in fighting position. F and I didn't talk to each other, didn't look at each other, but each of us ran to one guy. F ran into his guy football-style, and I ran into my guy and hugged him and bounced around with him. Soon, were all dancing around, fight averted. Soon after, F tells me to get out of the pit. There's a big guy taking wild swings, but I grab him and pat him on the shoulder. A few seconds later I get sucker punched in the jaw. But other than that, the tiny, calm, and temporary pits were great, the show was great, and I wanted to go back and slug my naysayer-self in the jaw.

Mexico City Journal: Jujitsu

2009-06-17T03:31:35Z

Mexico City Journal

I love jujitsu. And I love Thai kick boxing. I've been doing both since I arrived in Mexico City. My friend F is a purple belt and used to go almost every day. Now F is busy with work, busy with pre-production for his first feature film, and busy with a new girlfriend, so he goes once a week. But I've befriended the instructor and he told me I can come at any time. So I am. I'm trying to go four times a week, two hours each time - one hour of jujitsu and one hour of Thai kick boxing.

I love the dance of the forms; I love the intellectual choices made during a 'fight'; I love the intense skill and discipline. And I'm getting in mad shape.

Speaking of shape, the guys in the class are all in pristine shape, but none of them are close to 5% body fat. A narcissistic and incredibly well-read and intelligent friend of mine pointed out that model-looking guys can get to 5% body fat without too much effort and still be muscular. (Think of any young actor and the way his waist is almost non-existent.) However, once you get close to 30 there's a trade-off: you either build muscle mass and hover around 10 or 15% body fat (picture the actor who played James Bond in the last two films) or you stay really skinny and remain without muscles (think about David Bowie). What that means is that after 30 it's damn hard to get a tiny waist. If you're physically active then the body wants calories. You can have a V shape and a six pack, but you won't get 22 year old male model waist.

Now I know almost no women care about this type of male narcissism (and neither do most men) but I find it interesting how bodies develop. The guys in the class are at their physical peak, yet most of them have about 10 to 15% body fat (again, they look a lot like the older male action stars); unless they're in their twenties, and then they look like male models (or Bruce Lee). They also range from teens to forties, and another thing I love is that age doesn't matter; only skill. If you are of the same skill, then you are equals. As someone who cherishes meritocracies, I love that. I also love that there's an obvious progression. You gain a belt when you're able to defeat people who wear that belt. Simple. Direct. That's never true with most other skills.

But back to male bodies. I've watched a few fights on TV with the guys from the class and there's an amazing amount of guys who are professional fighters who are in their thirties, which is unheard of in boxing. Yes, the instructor said, because you reach your peak physical speed at around 25, but you don't reach your peak physical strength until you're forty. And of course, your technique constantly improves, so a guy in his thirties, generally, can kick the ass of a guy in his twenties.

Me, I'm getting put in pretzels by guys who are their twenties, and since I'll probably never devote enough time to get great (or even really good) that will probably always continue to happen. But I'm not there to fight. I'm doing it to get in shape, get some new skills, and enjoy myself. And damn, when I get back to New York, I'll look good on the beach. (Even if I'll never again be at 5% body fat).

Mexico City Journal: from the first few days

2009-06-03T15:45:44Z

Mexico City Journal

Here are my pictures from the first few days.

Man, fine dining in the airplane.

You can't really tell, but there were not a lot of people on the plane. Almost everyone had an aisle to themselves. And I think I was the only gringo.

Fausto's dog, Felipe, who they call Chapo, because he looks like Chapo who was a drug lord.

A detail on one of the many old buildings in El Centro.

I love the differences in various countries walk signs.

We went to the bad part of town, called Tepito.

Santa Muerte. This is the infamous Saint Death that drug dealers, kidnappers, and those looking for luck or protection pray and make offerings to. She's also known as La Santísima Muerte (Most Holy Death) and Doña Sebastiana (Lady Sebastienne).

What you can't see is that she had a lit cigarette in her hand and on the table is a full glass of water? and a full mug of beer.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Muerte

This was weird. Fausto thinks it's a statue of Judas. It looked sort of like Jesus, but with a horn on his head. Also: on his arm were upside crosses.

Again, in the bad part of town.

Actually, not many people were the masks anymore. The fear has died down, according to Fausto. People who encounter a lot of people still wear them, though.

I put this up for everyone who is worried about me getting swine flu. I uh, wear it, uh... all the time. Uh... yeah. Everywhere I go. In spirit, at least.

Mexico City Journal: fashion shows

2009-06-03T15:34:07Z

Mexico City Journal

Yesterday was a full day.

Wake up, read the news online, get to work, find out about major tax problems (more on that later), put in a solid day of storyboard work, put in an hour each of intense Thai kickboxing and jujitsu classes, and shoot off to a fashion show.

I've ignored fashion shows, but their structure is interesting. They always create a uniformity to the models, mainly through make-up and hair. That, coupled with the strange way the models walk down the catwalk, forces visual attention toward the clothes. As someone who isn't interested in clothes, but who is interested in art forms and the way each form focuses attention, I'm fascinated with the way the whole thing works. I'd much prefer to look at the girls, but it takes attention to try to distinguish Girl X or Girl Y, so my mind gets lazy and starts looking at the clothes. Looking at the girls, surprisingly, is like trying to look at the walls in an art gallery, or trying to listen to a conversation at a punk club. And it comes as a surprise, but I as I watch the show, not only do I stop looking at the girls and start looking at the clothes, but I have opinions on the clothes. As I watch these things, I can see the differences between conservative and challenging cuts and fabrics and textures and "line." I never knew.

Photos from an opening

2009-05-31T17:38:19Z

Mexico City Journal

As I said, my camera is dead, but I did manage to get a lot of photos, which I have posted to Facebook, but not to here. So without further ado...

We went to a fashion show/club opening, but weren't in a hurry, so we missed the fashion show, which is ok to me, since I hate most clothes, and Mexico City, fashion-wise, seems to be pretty conservative. Anyway, my friend F__'s girlfriend was modeling.

Oh, and I don't know if you can see it, but I have a black eye.

I love how certain scenes are international. This guy, Ivan, would fit in at a fashion event in Tokyo, London, Paris, LA, NYC, wherever the fuck. He's a fashion kid. Likewise, I saw a punk at the pseudo-punk bar who could fit into the punk scene anywhere. She had on the standard uniform: a dyed flat Mohawk, plaid red pants, black boots, white t-shirt.

The club was lame. No one was dancing and everyone was gawking at each other.

No dancing at a club? Then why the fuck am I here?

Another friend of mine from Williamsburg lives here in Mexico City, so we joined her at a hipster bar in the outskirts of Condessa, which from what I understand, used to be the cool hip neighborhood, but is now utterly gentrified.

But my camera was dead by the time we got to the bar.

Also, I've been keeping a daily journal, so if I get around to it, I'll post entries I've written.

Eating mamey and thinking about the art world

2009-05-31T17:06:30Z

Mexico City Journal

I'm eating a mamey in my friend's living room, which is where I sleep. I wish I could show you pictures, but I forgot to bring my camera's charger, so I can no longer take any pictures until my friend sends me my charger from NYC. Oddly, I couldn't find a charger to buy in Mexico City, even though it's a popular charger for a popular phone. Funny what's easy to buy in one country but hard to buy in another. My friend's pace is very nice. I can hear a helicopter outside, it's rotors spinning outside the Red Cross building. The mamey is sweet, with flesh that has the texture of an avocado and a flavor somewhere between a mango and a pumpkin.

I'm reading the new (New York Times, The Economist, BBC, and various blogs, and NOW I'm watching the helicopter take off, but from above since the apt. I'm in is the penthouse.

But this caught my eye from today's New York Times:

It's from a review of the show at The New Museum called "Younger Than Jesus." I haven't seen the show, so I can't say anything about it, but that critique sums up everything I hate about the art world. I hate the professionalizing of the art world; the fact that in order to have a career as an artist you need to have an MFA. An MFA for a creative field. It's something that everyone in the art world knows is stupid and broken, but the system is so entranced that no one can do anything about it, least of all the artists whose career is intrinsically bound in the system that made them.

Anyway... next posts will be about Mexico, but obviously I haven't left my home yet.

uberdionysus @ 2009-05-31T02:57:00

2009-05-31T08:33:14Z

Mexico City Journal

Met a beautiful friend of F__'s who is closer to my age. We went and ate, and even though I don't speak Spanish and she only spoke the most rudimentary English, we hit it off. Soon hands were comfortably held and hair was comfortably stroked. We were at some restaurant that looked like a club, and turns out, it was a club, just an empty club that serves food until it gets busy. (The food in Mexico City, btw, has been amazing.) Soon we're dancing and everyone is watching us but we don't care. We turned a bunch of straws into a headband and she's now a hippie and we're both hippie-dancing, and now we're 80s-dancing to 80s music.

We pick up F__'s girlfriend and her sister. Then we all drive to a tiny pseudo-punk pseudo-dive bar (but whose bathrooms are both seriously punk and seriously dive-y.) Two of F__'s brother's friends are in an all-girl band that is playing their last show. They've been together for five years. Afterwards, there is a party at one of the band member's apts. I've met both of the girls, since both have been recording in F__'s studio. (F__ is a director and his office space has a large fully-equipped recording studio.)

A metal band is playing when we get there. The disgust is obvious in F__'s girlfriend and sister's face - esp. the sister's. The band isn't very good but they end with a classic Iron Maiden song which is heavier, more powerful, and more awesome than any of their own material, which was all very pop-y and conservative (much like the fashion show I saw here last week). Anyway, the next band was pop-punk. F__ and his posse was losing interest. Sister mocked Metallica, so I grabbed her shoulders and shook her back and forth screaming, Mah-tale-eh-ka, Mah-tale-eh-ka. She was laughing but I was half serious, and after I let her go she reprimanded me like a dog and said, You're very bad.

Finally, the girl-band started and they were damn good. After the second song, F__ said it was time to leave. Fuck that, I thought, so I said I'd stay. So the cute girl left along with F__'s crew. I blew her kisses, mimed a tear, and then shrugged my shoulders. She nodded and that was that.

The band was good but I was tired. When they finished I went to the dingy bathroom, and when I came back the band was gone. I went to the waitress and asked where the backstage was. She didn't understand, so I drew a picture on her notepad. It had a picture of backstage, the name of two of the band-members, and an arrow that pointed to a car that was to drive a picture of me to a cartoon home. She took it to someone who spoke English (which was disappointing since I thought my note could be understood in any language) and they took me backstage.

I hugged and swung Band-Member Number 1 in a big circle and told her I loved their show. She asked if I was going to the after party. Yes, I said, but I need to make sure I have a ride home. Oh, she said, Well I'm sure Band-Member Number 2 would love to give you a ride home. Cool, I said, because I'm yours tonight, since I just lost my sure ride. Good, she said, then you will be mine tonight. But ask Band-Member Number 2 first, ok? Yes, I said.

So I ran into F__'s brother who was the producer for the band. I'm leaving now, he said, do you need a ride? Yes, I said, but you're not going to the after party? No, I have to work tomorrow. Ok, I said, But I'm going to see if Band-Member Number 2 can give me a ride. He replied, Sure, but I'm leaving soon.

And I couldn't find Band-Member Number 2, so just to be safe I catch a ride with F__'s brother, the Producer. And nearly immediately, he drives the wrong way down a one way onramp. Yikes. And a little bit later he drives the wrong way on a roundabout. We are all laughing and I am wondering if he's drunk. Then I scream, That's rock and roll! and we all laugh.

Mexico City Journal

2009-05-30T07:21:11Z

Mexico City Journal

I have a black eye from my first Thai boxing class.
I broke my toe in Acapulco by walking into a plastic chair.
I have a scar on the bridge of my nose from swimming underwater.
I have junky-looking arms from playing with five crazy puppies with sharp puppy teeth.
I have blisters on my thumbs from playing Xbox.
Dumbest wounds ever.

I'm finally falling into a routine here in Mexico City. Life is starting to form a familiar pattern that is still punctuated with newness and the spirit of a leisurely vacation. We get to the office at around noon. Work until seven or so and then either go to jujitsu or out to eat. We eat out all the time. Later, we'll play dominoes or cards or Xbox or just play with the dogs. We don't go out much, so Ｉ haven't met many single women, which is disappointing, especially because I don't speak Spanish, so picking someone up at a non-pick up spot is difficult for me.

I'm going to start posting again. Little things.

What's up with everyone? I haven't been online much.

Mexico City, swine flu, kidnappings, drug violence

2009-05-02T02:27:29Z

Tempting Fate

Stupid or not, I'm on my way to Mexico City in a week. Flights are cheap; a friend has work for me; it's time to go. I'm also going to do some research for my book in Central America, esp. in Honduras and Guatemala. And hell, when epidemics sweep the world, it's usually the second and third iterations of the virus/bacteria that turns really deadly, so if I get it now, and live, I'll be ok. And hell, I'm looking forward to seeing an apocalyptic Mexico City.

Back in NYC

2009-04-29T23:10:57Z

Back in NYC

Flying over JFK. Oddly, we had a airbus - the old school truck-people-mover things that drive up to the plane in place of the expandable drawbridge. I thought I'd go swimming at the pool and meet friends after. Instead, I watched Lost and passed out and didn't see anyone.

Williamsburg Bridge.
The next day I walked across the bridge with my good friend.

At a bar called Iona's.

Ike won't let his photo be put on the internet.

Kristen and Andrea and Jesse and I went to McCarren Park. It was 90 out.

There are a lot of these trees in the neighborhood. Their flowers are great, but I don't know what they are. Does anyone know what they are?

Lauren and Red/Kristen

Damien and I forget-his-name

Biking to Fort Tildon (The Beach!)

Hairy (I prefer the term hirsute), out of shape, and yes, I'm touching my nipple. Uh huh.

So today it was 90 and we decided to go to the beach - Fort Tildon.

Problem: It was fucking FREEZING there. I took my beach blanket and turned it into a cloak. Wade and Laurel used each other as blankets. Jesse... we just left him in the cold.

Then we went to the bunker.

It was pitch black inside. I took pictures of interiors I couldn't see. Thought that would be a neat horror movie trope.

This is an amazing tropical fruit. There's a guy deep in a Brooklyn who sells tropical fruits. Whenever I bike to the beach, I stop by on the way back and get a coconut. He chops it open and serves the coconut 'milk' (which really should be called water) and then chops the rest of and serves you the meat.

Anyway, he had this amazing fruit. I think he called it a 'nani.' It tastes like a tropical apricot. Anyone else know it?

So now we're to the present. Mark and Yoko are here, right now, as I write (type) this. We're all 'working', which in my case, means fuck around with Facebock.

The Great Depression vs. The Long Depression; which one are we?

2009-04-27T21:28:27Z

The Great Depression vs. The Long Depression;
which one are we?

What I worry about is not that we are at the precipice of another Great Depression, ala 1927. What I worry about is that we are at the precipice of another Great Depression, ala 1873.

The "Long Depression" (which is what we call it; the people who lived through it called it "The Great Depression") had one of the longest recessions on the books. That recession, depending on the economist, lasted from 5 to 10 years. But what's scary is that it left the economy on perilous and shaky ground. The governments at the time, beholden to corporate and wealthy power, did nothing to correct the deep systemic problems that created The Panic of 1973, and because of that, our economy (and the world economy) roiled through endless severe recessions until The Great Depression.

Right now we're at a crossroads. Either we initiate a lot of fundamental, systemic and severe reforms on our free market economy, or we go back to the way things have been for the last thirty years (the laissez-faire, market is good, regulations are bad model). The problem is that before The Great Depression, our economy would experience regular and deep crashes. In that environment, 401ks are useless, and investing is only open to the rich (mutual funds become too risky for middle class). Before The Great Depression, there was a market crash (not just a recession, but a full out crash) every 5 to 20 years, like clockwork.

So our choice now is simple: either we go along with the laissez-faire crowd, and prepare for more crashes in our lifetime. Or we change shit so that he gains aren't as high, but the risks are also not as high.

A Hootenanny and Goffs' Surrounding Towns

2009-04-27T14:19:13Z

A Hootenanny at Goffs!

My butt is sticking out because we were bouncing up and down. Hillbillies are secure in their sexuality.

Me, my dad and my Aunt Sharon.

Goffs and the surrounding towns

My mom.

A yucca plant.

Essex, Ca., which is about 15 miles away from Goffs, and had a population of between 100 and 200. The building on the left is the post office.

This is a one room schoolhouse in Essex, Ca. I went to school here for one year, and one year only.

Another view of the schoolhouse. I hated school here. HATED it. Now it's abandoned, and there's no love lost on my part.

Back in Goffs. This is a schoolhouse that was falling apart when I lived in Goffs until a cowboy moved in and fixed it up. A few years later, a historian came in and fixed it up even more. He now lives there and is a Goffs historian. Seriously.

Inside the schoolhouse, which is now a museum. I used to have piano lessons on this piano. The cowboy who fixed the schoolhouse had a wife, and this was her piano.

Me, my mom, the Goffs historian and his wife.

Weekend Picture Post: Goffs, Ca.

2009-04-20T02:14:00Z

Goffs!

Until a few days ago, I've been in Needles, and not Goffs. Needles is were I went to school; Goffs is where I grew up. Needles has about 5,000 people and Goffs has about 23. Needles and Goffs are super redneck-y, but Democrat-lovin' as well. God, guns, family, and Democrats. Oh, and crystal meth, beer, fighting, and motocross.

I grew up around scorpions, tarantulas, snakes, jackrabbits and coyotes. In Needles, I go for a walk every day (as long as it's not hotter than 90 degrees) but I've only seen a few jackrabbits, a bunch of lizards, a few quail, but no snakes or scorpions or coyotes (but I hear the coyotes at night). One thing I was looking forward to: stars. I seriously miss the stars. Needles still has too much light pollution, so I couldn't wait to get to Goffs, AND it's a new moon. Still, even in Goffs, the light from Las Vegas (two and half hours away) obscures the northern horizon as if the sun is coming.

I worked with my mom, who got a temp job as an "enumerator" for the US census. She drives around the surrounding environ with a GPS and "tags" houses for the Fed. (She looks up what info the GPS thing has and makes sure it's correct.) I hadn't talked to my dad, since his number no longer worked and he's sort of an "off the grid" sort of guy. So I had my mom drive me to Goffs and I left a whole bunch of Post-It notes all over his doors.

In Needles, I watch endless cable TV, and eat endless junk food. Not working on my comic, watching bad TV, eating peanut butter wafers, watching news channels, eating Ranch flavored Doritos, Yoo Hoos, and eating and watching whatever crap my step-siblings want to eat or want to watch. When I get back to NYC, I'll have to hide out for a month just to get back in shape. I walk through the desert about an hour or so a day (because I like to) but that doesn't do a damn thing when I'm shoving gallons of high fructose corn syrup down my throat.

On Route 66, on the way to Goffs.

That line is a train. Goffs used to be a watering spot for trains before they went electric.

Population 23. There used to be a sign that announced that, but I guess someone took it down.

This was our restaurant / gas station / bar / general store / square dance hall. When we sold it, someone else bought it. They started to build a second story - or at least a second story facade. The store is a dilapidated shell now, and damn, it's sad to see it in such a sorry state.

My dad made that sign. It's still standing, which is surprising, since he made it sometime before 1988.

The interior of the store. I put the camera up against the window. I think that's our old jukebox in the back.

This little house is right next to the store. I think it's been abandoned ever since I've been alive. Any squatters out there who want to live in the desert?

The railroad crossing.

Another view of the store.

This is where my Aunt Lillian used to live. It's crazy cramped and wonderful. It would be a GREAT site for a movie.

This is where I used to live. Another family lives there now. Someone told me that the current owners grew up near by (and no, I didn't know them) and they used to call our house "The Big House." It IS a triple wide trailer, and my parents DID trick it out.

So the next day I went to Goffs and stayed for a few days.

My dad lives in my grandfather's old place. My grandfather had chickens, geese, ducks, pheasants, peacocks, quail, pigs, goats, and other stuff I don't remember. My dad only has chickens; mainly because he travels in his RV.

Me holding a little chick.

While I was there, my dad built an automated watering system for his new garden. Since he's not there all the time, it's hard to keep a massive garden. Still, his garden now has a ton of great stuff: radishes, green onions, mustard, all kinds of stuff.

Yes, that's a calender from 1920.

I had a huge hole in the crotch of my pants. I also bought a few iron-on patches before I left NYC. However, the iron-on wasn't enough, so I needed to sew the edges. My dad and I tried to get the sewing machine working, but we did something wrong and eventually we both agreed that I could just do it by hand.

Two turtles fighting. Three turtles (or desert tortoises) live on my dad's land. Two of them are males, so they're always trying to kill the other by flipping them over.

Another thing: when they're acting bad ass, they bob their stretched heads up and down and then hiss. It's kinda silly looking.

We split up the turtles. The little guy was getting his ass kicked, but when I took away the big guy, the little guy acted like he kicked ass. He ate some plants we gave him and was fearless for a bit.

Oh, and turtle necks are gross. They look like dried up penis shafts.

Judy, my dad's cool wife, is in the background. In the foreground are the walking sticks my dad carves. When he has one of his staffs, he looks like a country Gandalf.

In Goffs, there's a historian who has been re-creating former Goffs buildings. This is a recreation of the Goffs Railroad Depot.

My dad, Judy and myself on a walk in the desert.

Daniel is my step-brother. Those are his kids, Richard and DJ. Daniel and his family live in Needles.

Daniel's wife and friends.

Daniel's tattoos are all self-made. He used a mirror.

My dad made this.

My step-niece, Naomi.

You can't tell, but these are new born birds. They were hidden behind the post where my father was installing his new watering system.

Here is the watering system, finished.

Needles: Demolition Derby

2009-04-13T21:22:43Z

Demolition Derby close to Needles, Ca.

Weekend Picture Post: Needles, Ca.

2009-04-13T05:13:15Z

Needles, Ca.

This is an impromptu trip. I was originally going to fly to Mexico City, hang out with a friend, and then the two of us were going to drive down to Central America. After about a month, I would fly back to Las Vegas and visit my parents in Goffs and Needles, California.

But my friend in Mexico City got a directing job in Miami. So I bought a ticket to Needles, Ca.

It's quiet here. The desert is all desaturated pastels. I haven't seen my mom or her family and three or four years? I used to think the desert was ugly, but I see the beauty in it, even if it is austere.

My mom

Timmy and Morgan

Morgan and Justin

Marshall and my mom

View from the garage

Morgan, Marshall, Justin in front of Sam's Club, which is in the nearby town of Bullhead City, AZ.

Wow. This is what Sam's Club looks like.

Buying enough for an army

Yep. LOTS of junk food. Lots of processed food. I'm getting fat just looking at it.

The view from the backyard

Justin

The Mojave desert

I have no idea what this little guy is.

My mom's house is on the left; the Mormon church is in the middle; my cracked lens shows up as well.

The austere beauty of the desert

A cool plant.

The river

More of the Colorado river. This is where the Joad family gets the shit beat out of them in The Grapes of Wrath.

At first, my allergies went crazy. Now they're ok.

An empty pool

Playing in the backyard

Don't remember what game they made up.

Here's the next made-up game: basketball in the abandoned pool.

The basket was a laundry basket held up by a rake.

A typical desert ravine

I'm loving this book. An adventure story for adults.

I look weird here. I blame it on the sun-in-my-face and the weird Myspace angle.

Storms approaching; cracks on the lens looking like rain.

Was this mess a result of fraud?

2009-04-06T19:39:03Z

William K. Black On Fraud

A still photo from the William K. Black interview on Bill Moyers Journal

I agree with all of his details and almost all of his facts, but as usual, I disagree with the larger synopsis that our current mess is due to fraud. I disagree that Geitner and co. are lying. At worst, they're lying to themselves, or considering the political ramifications of their actions. Likewise, the banks did engage in a type of fraud, and our fiscal situation was a giant Ponzi scheme, but the stress needs to be placed on systemic corruption, NOT on individual corruption. The problem with our individualistic viewpoint is that we miss structural problems and systemic corruption. It's NOT a cover-up; but a combination of a lazy press, a lazy public, and deep rooted ideological and structural problems that resulted in the inadvertent fraud and inadvertent Ponzi scheme of our larger economy. Yes, the banks and the government (in deregulating the industry) ARE responsible for the mess, but it's not a problem of individuals, but a problem of systemic ideological pressures, models and structures. Again, this was a structural/ideological problem, not a moral problem.

Other than that, this is a good program to listen to. I like Bill Moyers.

Weekend Picture Post: Music...

2009-04-04T19:40:53Z

Weekend Photo Dump

Last Tuesday I went to see Alash (Tuvan Throat Singers) at Zebulon. To me, "I went to see Tuvan throat singers" sounds like the punchline or opening to a joke, but damn... they were amazing. And I mean amazing. It was one of the best shows I've seen. I literally held my breath while I was watching them. Check out their Myspace page; it's not nearly that good as the live show, but whatever.

A few days later, I went to see Palms at Monkeytown. I was late, since they were playing on Thursday and Thursday is my Dungeons and Dragons night (seriously). Anyway, they were great, and I ended up knowing a lot of the people there, and met a super cool and hilarious member of the band.

Recently, I've been forgetting my camera. Last night, my friend Red came over and we bullshitted until about 2am. We finally went upstairs to a neighbor's party, but it was already winding down. Then we jumped in a cab, even though we're both broke, and went to this great place in Chinatown. The place is a restaurant of some sort, and they occasionally have crazy dance parties. I ran into the bass player of The Palms and we danced until they closed, which was about an hour after we got there.

A few days before that, I saw one of the last performances of USAISAMONSTER. It was amazing and intense and I wish I would have brought my camera.

Unemployment

2009-04-03T18:05:39Z

The Unemployment Rate

So everyone is making a big deal about the 8.5% unemployment rate, which is a big deal, but it's also a bit of a lie. Our real unemployment rate is 15.6%, and is what the government terms "U-6." As the government says, U-6 includes the "total unemployed, plus all marginally attached workers, plus total employed part time for economic reasons, as a percent of the civilian labor force plus all marginally attached workers." Click on the link.

Also, I'm not a fan of Robert Reich, but agree that saying the word "depression" seems reasonable.

One last thing: I talk a lot about the role of ideology in this mess, and shout, "I ACCUSE!" to the laissez-faire gang. If you want a long summary of what I think, and why I hate your fiscal libertarian ideology, read this account about how the banks created a subtle oligarchy. It's by Simon Johnson, the former chief economist of the International Monetary Organization (the IMF), a organization I dislike, but I agree with Mr. Johnson 100%.

Weekend Picture Post: Last few days...

2009-04-02T20:36:36Z

Last Few Days..

Comedy Night...

My teenage self.

2009-04-01T16:41:55Z

My teenage self would be very proud.

I'm making comic books. I'm hanging out with musicians and artists, and models and scientists, all people I wanted to hang out with when I was a teen. I'm still playing Dungeons and Dragons. I still do fun stuff, still go to great parties, and am still constantly learning. My friends are largely doing interesting things, and hopefully so will I. Most have avoided the traditional life and most have stayed in the artistic world.

But according to my teenage self, the coolest thing I've done happened a few years ago: I played Dungeons and Dragons with three beautiful girls and two other guys in Holly Hunter's house. Ms. Hunter wasn't home, obviously, and we put her Oscar in the middle of the table and claimed it was a dragon. How fucking cool is that?

It's nice to think that my teenage self would be proud of me, even if that's a ridiculously low standard to hold myself to. My life is far from great, and I'm far from satisfied; I'm unemployed, not getting younger, but still... My teenage self would be syked.

Jon Stewart kicks some fiscal ass

2009-03-13T16:23:25Z

Holy shit! Jon Stewart!

I've been doing nothing but research for the last few months. Diving in endless books, articles, and newspapers from 1913. I love doing it, but it's definitely exhausting, and I haven't been going out. I mean, I have plenty of stories to write about: my friend was in the hospital; I was lightly bit by a dog during a despondent conversation on the waterfront; a few dating shenanigans; a lot of art that I need to post; several friends in town; and general happenings; but mainly I work on the book, listen and read news, and... well, that's about it.

But that's not why I'm writing. I'm writing because I just had a "HOLY SHIT" moment. I don't watch Jon Stewart, except for clips that are embedded on LiveJournal or various blogs. The man and his writers are smart and funny, but this interview with Jim Cramer, the CNBC financial commentator, is one of the most incisive, honest, and vicious interviews that I've seen.

Jon Stewart kicks Jim Cramer's ass!

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Jim Cramer Unedited Interview Pt. 1

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things w/ Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Jim Cramer

(There are three parts to this. Watch them all.)

Jim Cramer, btw, is one of the financial commentators/entertainers on CNBC, the only financial network, but he's been wrong about pretty much everything. So has CNBC. And it's nice to see Jon Stewart tearing into him.

The press has done a horrible job covering this mess. TV news, as usual, is fucking awful, and didn't cover anything until after September, 2008, which was long after the shit exploded. TV news continues to be sensationalistic and completely misinformed. From what I've seen, if you get your financial news from TV, then you might know LESS than someone who doesn't follow news at all. But the newspapers weren't much better. The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal buried the important articles about the lead up to this mess (which started breaking, by the way, in the winter of 2007) in the back of their newspapers, on pages A27 and the like, which is exactly where they buried the counter news that suggested that there were no WMD in Iraq.

Look, this shit is just too important for anyone to run around without the basics of economic knowledge. It effects you. It effects you as much medical science effects you. We should all know enough about economics to know what people are proscribing. Because let's be straight, we're in heart attack mode. It's not the end of the world; the U.S. will emerge intact, but many countries might not, and if this goes on long enough who knows what could happen? War? Let's pay attention people. And thank you, Jon Stewart, for taking on Jim Cramer, and calling him a snake oil salesman.

Thank you.

Personal responsibility

2009-02-24T19:45:31Z

One of these days, I'll post comics again...

I'm hearing a lot of talk about the “personal responsibility” of the individual home owners, and about their responsibility in this financial crisis. It's a bullshit talking point and I think it's mainly a way to deflect responsibility from the real culprits of this crisis. Let's break down the truth behind personal responsibility and the current housing mess:

First: the majority of the people who are in trouble did everything right. They're still fucked. Let's call them The Fucked Majority.

Second is the VERY small percentage of people who were getting idiotic loans (like NINA: No Interest, No Assets). A vast chunk were actively pursued and conned, but many were simply ignorant (but were still pursued despite their ability to repay ANY loan). Lets call the second group The Idiotic Minority.

Third is a TINY subgroup of the Idiotic Minority who KNEW they couldn't repay their loans. Let's call them The Wicked Few.

None of those groups created the mess. That's the most important thing to remember. Focusing on them is bullshit because it distracts people from the real perpetrators of this crisis. The real perpetrators were the banks, the mortgage lenders, former Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan, 30 years of government hellbent on deregulation and laissez-faire ideology, and the rating agencies. But primarily to blame are the banks and a government that allowed them to do whatever they wanted.

But back to the individual home owners:

1a) The Fucked Majority were not living outside of their means according to the standpoint of the vast majority of bankers, economists, or economic newscasters. Fiscal libertarians, especially, were claiming that housing investments were wise (excepting, of course, Schiff).

1b) Related, it is not the Fucked Majority's fault that their houses are suddenly worth less than what they paid for them. That is the fault of the outside institutions who ignored the possibility of a housing bubble. If the banks, the rating agencies, economic press, and the government are telling you that there is no possibility of a bubble, why the fuck are you going to listen to the outsider perspectives of the ridiculed like Krugman and Schiff (or even worse, some yahoo like myself)?

That, according to fiscal libertarians of the time, is "personally irresponsible." The voices claiming that "all is well" were making A LOT of money and there was no reason to be skeptical - unless you looked at the real numbers with a microscope AND ignored everyone in power. That's a lot of responsibility to put on an individual, and it certainly is NOT what the majority economists (or the fiscal libertarians) said at the time.

1c) So I'm not sure how "personal responsibility" plays in with the Fucked Majority, who did everything right according to the concurrent economic ideas of "personal responsibility."

2) The same thing applies to The Idiotic Minority, but in their case, not only did they not have the honest information, but the vast majority didn't have access to the outsider opinions. They had little access to the magical skepticism that should have saved The Fucked Majority. They sure as fuck weren't reading Krugman or Roubini.

3) Last is The Wicked Few. They were devious or delusional. But they didn't cause any of this fiscal mess. Some were con artists, yes. Some were insanely stupid, absolutely. Some were wicked, but so what? They didn't create the mess; they merely sucked up some free cash provided by the banks.

Another point: Sure, most people were living beyond their means. No doubt. But that goes back to my complaint about libertarians in general: the libertarian claim is that the free market, since it is the amalgamated free will and choice of individuals, is ultimately wiser than any regulation could ever be. And that ideology was utterly wrong. The valuation of the individual (through the model of the free market) was completely overblown. The entire market, after deregulation, became fundamentally unsound.

Yes, I agree that the entire culture was to blame. But that entire culture believed in a free market ideology that was convinced that the free market is inherently self-correcting, and that individual greed is great. But even though that mirrors my Main Big Point, that STILL misses the true culprits of the recent crisis, who are not the individual home owners.

Quick question about economics...

2009-02-19T23:04:51Z

Economics

Quick question for any economist: The Obama team was reportedly looking at issuing debit cards with a expiration date. Supposedly, they rejected the idea because the infrastructure isn't in place. Since the money couldn't be saved, that would seem to perfectly fit Keynes' solutions. It seems like a great idea. One problem I imagine is that it would have no lasting effect on our country, unlike spending on infrastructure or creating jobs, but it could kick the economy into gear. Right?

What economic problems or theoretical downsides am I missing?

Weekend Picture Post: Valentines and Birthdays

2009-02-16T18:17:12Z

Jesse's Birthday...

Weekend Picture Post: More Photos...

2009-02-16T18:14:01Z

Pictures...

Audrey's place...

Lauren's birthday...