intellectual properties

postmillennial hope

“I give thanks to America, a country insane enough to declare the pursuit of happiness to be an inalienable right.”

i’m reading Susan Sontag’s most excellent book In America: A Novel, about a group of well-to-do Polish people who give up everything – for some of them including fame and wealth – to become farmers/settlers in Southern California around 1876. why would these people, who had everything, give it all up to work as field hands? the book is amazing at expounding on the thoughts/ motivations of the such early immigrants – The Dream of America was *so big* that even those who had everything in their homelands were willing to give it all up for a shot at The Dream. how many of those dreams came true?

relatedly, yesterday i shared on gReader and facebook this piece from Adbusters written by Michael Larson, a philosophy teacher from Pittsburgh:

Postmillennial Tension: Can we be the ones we’ve been waiting for?

some excerpts:

That dominant ideal of modernity is tied to a notion of ever-expanding progress and limitless consumption. The oil crisis of 1973 signaled the onset of the postmodern malaise. “Our future was all of a sudden mortgaged,” writes Bourriaud in Altermodern. So while capital has continued expanding its reach in other areas, there has been a lingering denial – an inability to mourn the lost object and the dream’s impossibility. If this was the death of the dream, then our present reality of global warming, water and food shortages, market collapse and the continued proliferation of violent factionalism make it clear that we had better get on with mourning and confront the sorrow we have been trying to repress. Putting it off has only allowed the problems to grow.

We have had a century of continuity in which the basic operating assumptions of the economic system have been hegemonic. In fact this version of “modernity” was to have closed the book on history: We have reached the best of all possible worlds; there are no alternatives. Proclaiming the end of history intimates that our desires have been satiated and that there is nothing further to strive for.

i don’t read adbusters too much anymore because i think a lot of it IS too hopeless/ armageddonist/depressing, but i still subscribe to the online feed and what caught my eye about this one is that there has been something in my mind for a really long time now with respect to my particular demographic – educated middle class americans with plenty of food, clothing, shelter – that goes something like “WE HAVE EVERYTHING.  WHY AREN’T WE HAPPY?”, which seems simple, but it is all heavy with a million questions about both of the words “everything” and “happy”, and extends way beyond myself and my community to America as a whole, and our self-image of always “the best. america is the best. the best of everything is here. it is yours to take if you work hard enough”.

but it turns out that maybe, just maybe, that isn’t true, that the American Dream was a fallacy, or, even worse: what if the “everything” isn’t enough when you get it? what if, when you get to the top run of the ladder – the house, the yard, the boat, the kids, the degrees, the “everything” – what if then that isn’t enough? it must be really depressing to get to the top and realize it’s not far enough.

my speculation is that, like the early Europeans who came from perfectly good lives with solid communities to risk everything on the American frontier, there is a part of human nature that is utterly insatiable, no matter what you give it, and that the “everything” we want isn’t as physical as we’ve been lead to believe – via consumerism, marketing – the “everything” is something intangible, and possibly unattainable. it’s what drives us as humans to do what we do. if it were attainable, how would we evolve?

my generation (X), and the next (Y) seems to be the first in a few to really FEEL this. we were taught, growing up in the 80s especially, that once certain things were attained, peace and happiness would follow. but all after our parents and grandparents and great-grandparents hard work, building industries and fighting for civil rights and freedom, those of us in the educated middle-class who have access to all the things our forefathers dreamed about, here we are, standing on the top rung of the ladder, and we’re still not happy, and the world – and the rest of the world – it’s even more of a mess than before.

that is why the one sentence that hit me most in this piece was “Jean-Paul Sartre described anguish as the recognition of responsibility and the ensuing need to act without guarantee, without hope.“  as Americans, we have a lot of responsibility in this world, as we consume most of the resources and control a lot of the politics. but what hope can we feel now about it all, when it seems we inherited a wealth of square pegs but none of them fit in what turned out to be round holes?

so then finally, the author asks:

So we find ourselves in this moment of rupture, precariously exposed to risk and perhaps devoid of hope. Can we think of these facts as possibilities? Can we confront our situation and imagine what things might be like otherwise, even without guarantees? The end of history has reached its end. Can we be the ones we have been waiting for?

i also felt a lot of this, but wasn’t able to express it, during Obama’s HOPE campaign, like all of Democratic and minority America felt like everything had been done – all the groundwork was laid out, and now everyone was pinning their future on one man/one moment that was going to seal the deal. HOPE is what Obama tried to sell us, and for the election season, we bought it. but here we are 1+ years later, and people are getting depressed because the whole world didn’t change when Obama took office.

so what about now? we have to stop waiting for the thing that is going to save us. we have to stop standing on the top rung of the ladder, thinking there is no where else to go. we have the tools to build a new future. we are what we have been waiting for.

quote for the new year:

“What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

2009 was

something grey

a blurry line, illuminated,

between hope and the future

a swaying platform of change

feet unsteady

unsure of who or what

pubescent with insecurity

with all eyes looking forward

belief in the future

overriding the past.

.::.

abbreviated:

starting with the january oakland riots,

my car smashed

and my love for my city dented, bruised

in february i became an aunt

and for the rest of the year my heart was pulled homeward

in march i visited the family

and stopped funding my 401(k)

in april we went to new york

and i was braver than i’ve ever been on a runway

may brought hot springs and Nine Inch Nails

june there was an alien invasion and other things

and in july there was again Priceless

and then i won an undeserved blogger award (in 2010 it most certainly goes to the Holden Archive) and then perhaps unsubconsciously refrained from writing much of anything on the subject since

august meant a return to Phish and, counterbalanced, a nonreturn to Burning Man

with the addition of a family trip to mexico

and then came september, with it’s gorgeous autumn days and finally

FINALLY

a long-awaited extended vacation to Europe for 4 weeks

where we wandered and enjoyed, aimless with bounty

when we returned life was somewhat subdued, and shortly after then is when my body pain started

-i’m at the end of 7 weeks now-

and since then i feel i’ve been focused so hard on my body that

i can barely remember what else has happened in november and december,

some wonderful things, i know, and much love and support from all the humans in my life,

but it all seems very foggy, muddled, like the light from a frosted bulb.

.::.

i know from all the things i’ve read, seen and quoted this year that i have been thoughtful, but it seems not a lot of that made it into words written here.  all very internalized, it feels.  i spent a lot of time this year in my head. cerebral.

and so i end 2009 a little broken, edges a little ragged, vision a little blurry, soul a little tired, but grateful, and yes, optimistic.

for 2010, i make no grand resolutions, other than to strive to be well and hope for balance and clarity, inside and out, personally and professionally, logistically and artistically.  if i can do that, it will be a great year.

here’s to you and yours, and thanks for following along.

it’s like this

J&A-Dec2009crop1, originally uploaded to Flickr by amyleblancdotcom.

QOTD

IMG_0550, originally uploaded by _Reagan_.

another reason i blog. if i didn’t say things about myself, i’d feel no room to say anything about anything.

also, on the flip side, if you believe you are perfect, then by logic you must believe everything else is perfect too.

costuming, today and every day

i wear a lot of costumes.  i dress up for fun, often for parties late at night, sometimes at 9am on a tuesday, or when i’m running errands on sunday afternoon.  what i wear affects how i feel, what i feel like doing or what i can do, where i go, whether i bike or walk or drive, and what kind of energy i put out into the world. taking some time to dress myself up is almost a sure-fire way to put me in a better mood. and on the flip-side, looking plain or disheveled definitely makes me feel dull. uninspired. and before anyone decides to call this “vanity” or “shallow”, i maintain that we are all actors in our own lives, and you dress the part you want to play. dress codes and uniforms play a huge part in enforcing our roles:  you are a student.  you are an employee. you are a soldier.  you must dress and act your part.

i refuse dress codes and don’t have one at work, so now and then i get down on myself for getting lazy and dressing default.  jeans, t-shirt.  black pants, button up.  BORING.  i will only live so many days!  why do i even have things in my wardrobe that are plain?  what a waste!

but then i remember, it’s because sometimes, the “costume” i put on, it’s not weird, or funky, or sexy, or anything outstanding.  it’s totally “normal”.  it’s “i’m being normal today.  i am going to go to work, do my job, go to the gym, eat dinner, watch tv/read a book, and go to bed.” and i need those days.  i need that costume. i can’t spend every day weird, inspired, creative.  it’s too exhausting and unstable for me.

for adults, halloween is an annual chance for those who may not have the time, energy, or desire to “dress up” other days of the year to be someone else for a while.  try on a different persona.  i think this is a really important ritual, and while i do it many days a year, i love halloween because for 1 (or 4) day a year everyone feels comfortable doing it, and all week i’ve been smiling seeing people in SF wandering around dressed up on the streets.

so happy halloween y’all – may yours be fun and inspired. i have a long night of costuming ahead of me, as i’m part of the Bad Unkl Sista performance crew doing on and off performances all night long at the Spider Ball in SF.

and to all those people who “hate costuming” and aren’t dressing up, i say: even if you’re not dressed up, you are. whatever you wear, that is your costume.  your character. your role. your persona. your choice.

I don’t wake up in the morning. It’s more like an irritable emergence into the costume of my humanity. I leer in the mirror, suspiciously. What will I be today? A husband? A dad? Someone who goes through the motions at work? I get dressed up. I act like a man. – BHJ

counted blessings

i need to be grateful today. this morning i am grateful for, in no particular order:

the sun;

my bike commute, which is long enough yet easy enough to warm my body and mind up in the morning, and then bring it down in the afternoon on the way home, and allows me time outside i would not otherwise get;

my body, although giving me problems lately, is beautiful and healthy and strong;

my best friend and lover, who loves me perfectly enough to comfort me when needed but never shelter me, giving me the feeling that he’s always there like a rock to stand on, but that i have to have my own wings to fly;

my friends and family, near and far, who send such beautiful messages and share their lives with me; even if i haven’t seen you in weeks months or years i am grateful for you, and grateful for the internet for keeping us in touch ;

for the 3 cities i live in, so beautiful and diverse and containing everything i need, from amazing food to glorious vistas to a deeply invested artist community to progressive culture where citizens recognize that the problems we face are cause for growth, not fear. having travelled so far recently, i can say that this is one of the best places in the world to live without hesitation;

the freedoms of america, which allow me to feel informed, connected, empowered and involved in my world. having just travelled through and read the histories of places recovering from the iron curtain of malformed communism, i am evermore aware of the value of our freedoms. with all the liberties taken by differing social and political groups, i may not always like what i see or hear others doing, but i will defend their right to say or do it as long as you are not limiting or infringing on the right of anyone else;

for my employer, which allows me to both be myself and work for causes i believe in, flexible enough to let everyone lead full lives but earnest and focused enough to really get things done;

the opportunities all these things combined have afforded me, which i cannot compare to anyone else’s for they alone are mine;

and finally, for all which provides for me that i cannot see, feel, hear, taste, smell or comprehend. i will not speak of God, but there is more to life than what we know.

please me have no regrets

it sort of feels like when i decided to stop going to church.  when i decided i understood enough, had gotten what i needed, had seen behind the curtain, and that i did not need to go anymore. but i could not just throw it all away, all those hours and thoughts and emotions and time, such a large part of my formative years, and so moved on to studying religion, to tracking its history, to seeing its parables and metaphors and literary tools for what they were, developing a different kind of appreciation, one that i carry around deeply with me to this day.  will i ever go back to a church, sit in its pews on a sunday morning, and return to the beginning of my journey?  i cannot – it’s impossible.

and so it is with burning man, that special place where a community belief and value system is set out in plans, preached, acted out upon, put forward in signs and banners and songs and dances while the revelers let their eyes see the sky and their mouths speak in tongues. where am i with this? did i get enough to continue to pay it forward without going back? will i ever return to those morning worship services even though i know they will never be the same? i cannot know until i have moved on whether my heart will simply look back or long for return.

we leave for europe in 11 days. i will turn 33 in 23 days, on the other side of the planet. in my 34th year, i am to learn many things, see many places, live many lives, and that journey started with this, collecting what i have and moving forward, not taking the path already tread.

add to the list of things that can blow your mind: sesame street

last night on PBS there was a special about Sesame Street and their global productions.

i had no idea they produced localized versions all around the world, especially in war-torn and developing countries, places where poverty and racism and disease run rampant. and when i say localized, i don’t mean that Big Bird gets dubbed over and everything looks the same.  i mean that they send in teams to develop and film on-site, using local children, local music, local language, different puppets that reflect their surroundings, and, in addition to the Alphabet and 1-2-3′s, focus the content on what’s most important to teach the children where they are: the puppets on Sesame Street in Bangladesh discuss unexploded ordnance, in Kosovo the Serbian and Albanian puppets broach topics of racism, nationalism and genocide, and one of the puppets on the South African version had HIV and talked about her mother dying of AIDS, which caused a national controversy here in the U.S.

watching how hard the producers worked to develop these localized versions for these children who in many cases have no other means of education, sometimes putting themselves in very uncomfortable positions (getting the Serbs and the Albanians to be in one room together proved to be monumental) and even in the middle of conflicts and wars, all to try to get positive, educational television to children  was really perspective-shifting. i never really even thought about how Sesame Street in the U.S. was revolutionary in the early 1970s, having a completely integrated cast and discussion topics like racism and sexism (in 2-4 year old terms), but UXO? AIDS? genocide? wow. kudos to PBS for funding these kinds of efforts and for realizing that, in some places, the children really are the only future some communities have, and reaching them, teaching them, is honestly of global importance.

There are several things that we hope that people take from the film. Number one is reflected in a quote that Anu Gupta of Sesame Workshop said: “Children are not born haters, they are taught to hate.” We were so surprised to find three- and four-year-old Serbians and Albanians in Kosovo talking about each other with distrust and hatred.

gratitude

this wonderful life isn’t an accident; it’s quite intentional.
not on the part of some God,
but on the part of many here. with me. now.
doing. giving. being. so many amazing things.
and sharing it all, selflessly. sleeplessly. with belief.

lately, and especially for some reason today this weighed heavily on me,
i have been noting that i don’t thank the people who make it so wonderful nearly enough.
i at least always try to say thank you
whenever something has been offered to me,
or even if not offered directly,
if it was offered to the universe,
and it touched me with everyone.
sometimes i forget to say thank you.

but even when i do, i have recently been feeling like it’s not enough.
that what’s being given to me is so much more than i give.
so while i am filled up with all this gratitude,
at the same time there is guilt.
guilt that i am not giving back enough,
that the teeter totter isn’t balanced
and soon you’ll be tired of being the heavy one, sitting on the ground
while i fly.