I am lucky enough to have two friends from two different periods of my life now living on two different coasts who are both amazing musicians and songwriters. My friend Matt, from college, now in California, has written many the fine song and gained some attention with his band MADRONA, and I have a huge catalogue of his projects that I have collected over the years. Now, like this week, my friend Sam, from junior high, now in Rhode Island, has chimed into the musical conversation with a stellar four song EP called “You got to” by his band the #a! ones.
Fortunately, none of Sam’s songs were about me. This sounds like a presumption of major intensity but bare with me. I have a point in here somewhere. You see, unlike many the critic who would go the distance to argue why their friends make the best music around while claiming objectivity I will do away with such pretense and just be a fan. But I will tell you that having song writers for friends can be confusing for the schizophrenic.
My MADRONA collection is deep. I have work by Matt spanning ten years, totaling fourteen different CDs and DVDs that he has worked on for many, many hours. Sam’s output is small in comparison, one seven inch purple marble vinyl record with four songs. For what Sam lacks in range he makes up for in aesthetic appeal, but that is by no way a slight of MADRONA. The two bands musical styles are so different and their intent so varied I really wouldn’t tell you whose music I like better. Such an act would be destructive, insensitive, and in the end pointless, you should hear them both to decide for yourself. (Shameless plug right there).
I will say I like the #a! ones for their crazy band name, a great choice in this day of internet look ups and market dynamic sensitivities. You have to get their name wrong, because I don’t think I’m sure of what it is, or what it refers to. This is a pure punk move, the unmarketable name, and the music they make fully delivers on the promise. Part Black Flag, totally original, with some Circle Jerks, and even a little Rancid so the younger people will know the names I am dropping are important, “You got to” is thrashing, unafraid to be melodic, hardcore, and I couldn’t help but love it. Sam, back in junior high, turned me on to punk rock almost singlehandedly, making bootleg cassette tapes for me I played over and over until they fell away into dust. Now, some twenty two years later, his songs could go side by side with the classics on those early compilations and the music would flow perfectly. For those of you who don’t do vinyl, you really should. Even on my crappy record player the sound is immediate and nostalgic all at the same time. Plus it’s marbled purple! I mean, that is awesome.
MADRONA will always hold a very special place in my heart. Matt and I were in bands together, he taught me how to play guitar for hell’s sake, so I can’t help but love everything he does. I know one song he wrote with MADRONA is about me, a crazy ditty in thirteen time, called, yes, One Past Order. I like to think other songs he writes are about me at times too, especially the really harsh ones about greedy pigs and out of control egos. Such is most likely my paranoia overreaching a little, and I should be happy with one amazing song about me, but I can explain.
My illness, when I am ill, not today of course, schizophrenia in check, even convinced me that New Found Glory, a band I have no connection with and who I think exclusively writes love songs about girlfriends, also wrote a song about me. Yes, I was convinced. New Found Glory in addition to other minor acts like U2, Smashing Pumpkins, and Paramour, all writing songs for me, so what is that all about?
I can tell you, when someone has schizophrenia, like I do, they break with reality, like I have. One of the interesting things we do is lose our proper frame of reference. All kinds of media become very confusing. Any reference to “you”, just the plain old second person pronoun, sounds like the song writer is talking to the schizophrenic. Even “I” the more innocuous first person pronoun, sounds like it refers to the schizophrenic during sing alongs. He, it, we, they, yes, all of these seem personal indeed to the deluded hallucinating mind. (Blink 182 has a song called Adam’s Song which I thought was about my friend, Chris). I have met a schizophrenic who claimed to have written all of the songs the Supremes are famous for, (songs stolen from her of course); and even one interesting lady who knew that ALL the songs on the radio were about her.
Now think about that for a second. It’s not a problem when a love song makes you think of your love, or a party song makes you think of one time in school, but can you imagine thinking every song is about you? Creeping Death by Metallica comes to mind, as does Lithium by Nirvana, don’t even get me started about how confusing Jets to Brazil can be for a schizophrenic emo kid, I mean it’s tragic.
When we are medicated the world falls away, and we realize how unimportant and small we are, and that can be scary too.
Fortunately for us there is a band that I think tries, and has succeeded, in sounding like a psychotic episode. This might seem like a stock answer, but I have really given this a lot of thought, and I say Slayer, yes, crazy old Slayer, play music that sounds like I am losing my mind. Depending on my mood I can find them very calming.
So what does this have to do with Sam’s record or MADRONA? Not a lot. I just love being back in the world of the sane, thinking nothing has anything to do with me ever, and living my life as if such were the case. Sam’s stuff has little to do with me, and everything to do with him. I celebrate his success, as I celebrate all my friends who have made my life a lot more musical.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Confusion and Mayhem
I am lucky enough to have two friends from two different periods of my life now living on two different coasts who are both amazing musicians and songwriters. My friend Matt, from college, now in California, has written many the fine song and gained some attention with his band MADRONA, and I have a huge catalogue of his projects that I have collected over the years. Now, like this week, my friend Sam, from junior high, now in Rhode Island, has chimed into the musical conversation with a stellar four song EP called “You got to” by his band the #a! ones.
Fortunately, none of Sam’s songs were about me. This sounds like a presumption of major intensity but bare with me. I have a point in here somewhere. You see, unlike many the critic who would go the distance to argue why their friends make the best music around while claiming objectivity I will do away with such pretense and just be a fan. But I will tell you that having song writers for friends can be confusing for the schizophrenic.
My MADRONA collection is deep. I have work by Matt spanning ten years, totaling fourteen different CDs and DVDs that he has worked on for many, many hours. Sam’s output is small in comparison, one seven inch purple marble vinyl record with four songs. For what Sam lacks in range he makes up for in aesthetic appeal, but that is by no way a slight of MADRONA. The two bands musical styles are so different and their intent so varied I really wouldn’t tell you whose music I like better. Such an act would be destructive, insensitive, and in the end pointless, you should hear them both to decide for yourself. (Shameless plug right there).
I will say I like the #a! ones for their crazy band name, a great choice in this day of internet look ups and market dynamic sensitivities. You have to get their name wrong, because I don’t think I’m sure of what it is, or what it refers to. This is a pure punk move, the unmarketable name, and the music they make fully delivers on the promise. Part Black Flag, totally original, with some Circle Jerks, and even a little Rancid so the younger people will know the names I am dropping are important, “You got to” is thrashing, unafraid to be melodic, hardcore, and I couldn’t help but love it. Sam, back in junior high, turned me on to punk rock almost singlehandedly, making bootleg cassette tapes for me I played over and over until they fell away into dust. Now, some twenty two years later, his songs could go side by side with the classics on those early compilations and the music would flow perfectly. For those of you who don’t do vinyl, you really should. Even on my crappy record player the sound is immediate and nostalgic all at the same time. Plus it’s marbled purple! I mean, that is awesome.
MADRONA will always hold a very special place in my heart. Matt and I were in bands together, he taught me how to play guitar for hell’s sake, so I can’t help but love everything he does. I know one song he wrote with MADRONA is about me, a crazy ditty in thirteen time, called, yes, One Past Order. I like to think other songs he writes are about me at times too, especially the really harsh ones about greedy pigs and out of control egos. Such is most likely my paranoia overreaching a little, and I should be happy with one amazing song about me, but I can explain.
My illness, when I am ill, not today of course, schizophrenia in check, even convinced me that New Found Glory, a band I have no connection with and who I think exclusively writes love songs about girlfriends, also wrote a song about me. Yes, I was convinced. New Found Glory in addition to other minor acts like U2, Smashing Pumpkins, and Paramour, all writing songs for me, so what is that all about?
I can tell you, when someone has schizophrenia, like I do, they break with reality, like I have. One of the interesting things we do is lose our proper frame of reference. All kinds of media become very confusing. Any reference to “you”, just the plain old second person pronoun, sounds like the song writer is talking to the schizophrenic. Even “I” the more innocuous first person pronoun, sounds like it refers to the schizophrenic during sing alongs. He, it, we, they, yes, all of these seem personal indeed to the deluded hallucinating mind. (Blink 182 has a song called Adam’s Song which I thought was about my friend, Chris). I have met a schizophrenic who claimed to have written all of the songs the Supremes are famous for, (songs stolen from her of course); and even one interesting lady who knew that ALL the songs on the radio were about her.
Now think about that for a second. It’s not a problem when a love song makes you think of your love, or a party song makes you think of one time in school, but can you imagine thinking every song is about you? Creeping Death by Metallica comes to mind, as does Lithium by Nirvana, don’t even get me started about how confusing Jets to Brazil can be for a schizophrenic emo kid, I mean it’s tragic.
When we are medicated the world falls away, and we realize how unimportant and small we are, and that can be scary too.
Fortunately for us there is a band that I think tries, and has succeeded, in sounding like a psychotic episode. This might seem like a stock answer, but I have really given this a lot of thought, and I say Slayer, yes, crazy old Slayer, play music that sounds like I am losing my mind. Depending on my mood I can find them very calming.
So what does this have to do with Sam’s record or MADRONA? Not a lot. I just love being back in the world of the sane, thinking nothing has anything to do with me ever, and living my life as if such were the case. Sam’s stuff has little to do with me, and everything to do with him. I celebrate his success, as I celebrate all my friends who have made my life a lot more musical.
Fortunately, none of Sam’s songs were about me. This sounds like a presumption of major intensity but bare with me. I have a point in here somewhere. You see, unlike many the critic who would go the distance to argue why their friends make the best music around while claiming objectivity I will do away with such pretense and just be a fan. But I will tell you that having song writers for friends can be confusing for the schizophrenic.
My MADRONA collection is deep. I have work by Matt spanning ten years, totaling fourteen different CDs and DVDs that he has worked on for many, many hours. Sam’s output is small in comparison, one seven inch purple marble vinyl record with four songs. For what Sam lacks in range he makes up for in aesthetic appeal, but that is by no way a slight of MADRONA. The two bands musical styles are so different and their intent so varied I really wouldn’t tell you whose music I like better. Such an act would be destructive, insensitive, and in the end pointless, you should hear them both to decide for yourself. (Shameless plug right there).
I will say I like the #a! ones for their crazy band name, a great choice in this day of internet look ups and market dynamic sensitivities. You have to get their name wrong, because I don’t think I’m sure of what it is, or what it refers to. This is a pure punk move, the unmarketable name, and the music they make fully delivers on the promise. Part Black Flag, totally original, with some Circle Jerks, and even a little Rancid so the younger people will know the names I am dropping are important, “You got to” is thrashing, unafraid to be melodic, hardcore, and I couldn’t help but love it. Sam, back in junior high, turned me on to punk rock almost singlehandedly, making bootleg cassette tapes for me I played over and over until they fell away into dust. Now, some twenty two years later, his songs could go side by side with the classics on those early compilations and the music would flow perfectly. For those of you who don’t do vinyl, you really should. Even on my crappy record player the sound is immediate and nostalgic all at the same time. Plus it’s marbled purple! I mean, that is awesome.
MADRONA will always hold a very special place in my heart. Matt and I were in bands together, he taught me how to play guitar for hell’s sake, so I can’t help but love everything he does. I know one song he wrote with MADRONA is about me, a crazy ditty in thirteen time, called, yes, One Past Order. I like to think other songs he writes are about me at times too, especially the really harsh ones about greedy pigs and out of control egos. Such is most likely my paranoia overreaching a little, and I should be happy with one amazing song about me, but I can explain.
My illness, when I am ill, not today of course, schizophrenia in check, even convinced me that New Found Glory, a band I have no connection with and who I think exclusively writes love songs about girlfriends, also wrote a song about me. Yes, I was convinced. New Found Glory in addition to other minor acts like U2, Smashing Pumpkins, and Paramour, all writing songs for me, so what is that all about?
I can tell you, when someone has schizophrenia, like I do, they break with reality, like I have. One of the interesting things we do is lose our proper frame of reference. All kinds of media become very confusing. Any reference to “you”, just the plain old second person pronoun, sounds like the song writer is talking to the schizophrenic. Even “I” the more innocuous first person pronoun, sounds like it refers to the schizophrenic during sing alongs. He, it, we, they, yes, all of these seem personal indeed to the deluded hallucinating mind. (Blink 182 has a song called Adam’s Song which I thought was about my friend, Chris). I have met a schizophrenic who claimed to have written all of the songs the Supremes are famous for, (songs stolen from her of course); and even one interesting lady who knew that ALL the songs on the radio were about her.
Now think about that for a second. It’s not a problem when a love song makes you think of your love, or a party song makes you think of one time in school, but can you imagine thinking every song is about you? Creeping Death by Metallica comes to mind, as does Lithium by Nirvana, don’t even get me started about how confusing Jets to Brazil can be for a schizophrenic emo kid, I mean it’s tragic.
When we are medicated the world falls away, and we realize how unimportant and small we are, and that can be scary too.
Fortunately for us there is a band that I think tries, and has succeeded, in sounding like a psychotic episode. This might seem like a stock answer, but I have really given this a lot of thought, and I say Slayer, yes, crazy old Slayer, play music that sounds like I am losing my mind. Depending on my mood I can find them very calming.
So what does this have to do with Sam’s record or MADRONA? Not a lot. I just love being back in the world of the sane, thinking nothing has anything to do with me ever, and living my life as if such were the case. Sam’s stuff has little to do with me, and everything to do with him. I celebrate his success, as I celebrate all my friends who have made my life a lot more musical.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Easy Targets
[Warning: there is probably an error in spelling or grammar in the following blog. I am sorry. I tried very hard to make sure there was not but I am human, and I love commas.]
There is a great article in today’s Christian Science Monitor by Eoin O’Carroll about the math of the great assumption, er, ascension, as calculated by Harold Camping. His Math included the number 722,499.07 days since April 1, 33 CE, rounded up to 722,500 a product of 5 x 17 x 10 squared. All of these numbers have special meanings to Camping, but where in the bible he found this equation I do not know. (The bible is notoriously short on math, I have checked).
Harold Camping owns 66 Christian Broadcasting Channels and has convinced thousands of people with billboards and radio messages that the end of the world is today, or was, (will be?)
In response I feel like blogging that I ascended, was the only one there, convinced God to give us a second chance and came back for tacos. This is probably an awful idea, except for the tacos. I do love tacos.
Whoever advertises with this Camping guy should be ashamed. I don’t blame the listeners, sure there is no reason not to learn how to read in today’s day and age, but some people can’t read. Yes, there is an extent to which one is educated and an extent to which one educates oneself. I’m not saying everyone has to read Jurgen Habermas or even learn how to pronounce Goethe properly, but come on, will people say that Camping prays on those who can only listen to radio? That these people who gave away their money to Camping or spent it on billboards scaring the hell out of little children all across the country, didn’t deserve to be fleeced of every dime?
So there isn’t a lot on the radio. And you think country music is just too liberal and communistic for your tastes. I understand. I recommend a wonderful collection of books on tape, CDs, and MP3 players (have you seen those, the library has some, they are cool, book and MP3 in one package, use your own headphones or headphones will be provided for you), that you can take out and listen to on your own. I cannot reach the illiterate people here, but I hope I can reach you.
The question begged is: what have I, the mad scientist, done for literacy in my life? Very little. I have taught English, run free book clubs at the local libraries, volunteered at the library doing necessary mundane tasks, worked for Read of America, donated books, and read to every child I have met who said they were bored and couldn’t run away fast enough to stop me. This is why I did blog today. To advocate that you think of something you can do to help encourage and develop literacy and go do it.
I helped a group of high school age students, possibly older, spell the word “theatre” today. Tricky, yes. I put it close to potato in difficulty. Remember, Vice Presidents need help expanding their literacy too. (Long story short for those of you a little younger than me Bush Sr.’s Vice President misspelled this one back in the day when visiting a school spelling test. No lie. I’m going to name names, yes I can spell Quayle both the name and the fowl quail, Quayle was the foul Quayle).
Yes. I am being smug. Why? Because maybe we need a little shock treatment here. Some people can’t read. So they turn on the radio, hear about the end of the world and believe. Some people can’t read. That’s not funny, but it might, in the end, spell the end of the world.
There is a great article in today’s Christian Science Monitor by Eoin O’Carroll about the math of the great assumption, er, ascension, as calculated by Harold Camping. His Math included the number 722,499.07 days since April 1, 33 CE, rounded up to 722,500 a product of 5 x 17 x 10 squared. All of these numbers have special meanings to Camping, but where in the bible he found this equation I do not know. (The bible is notoriously short on math, I have checked).
Harold Camping owns 66 Christian Broadcasting Channels and has convinced thousands of people with billboards and radio messages that the end of the world is today, or was, (will be?)
In response I feel like blogging that I ascended, was the only one there, convinced God to give us a second chance and came back for tacos. This is probably an awful idea, except for the tacos. I do love tacos.
Whoever advertises with this Camping guy should be ashamed. I don’t blame the listeners, sure there is no reason not to learn how to read in today’s day and age, but some people can’t read. Yes, there is an extent to which one is educated and an extent to which one educates oneself. I’m not saying everyone has to read Jurgen Habermas or even learn how to pronounce Goethe properly, but come on, will people say that Camping prays on those who can only listen to radio? That these people who gave away their money to Camping or spent it on billboards scaring the hell out of little children all across the country, didn’t deserve to be fleeced of every dime?
So there isn’t a lot on the radio. And you think country music is just too liberal and communistic for your tastes. I understand. I recommend a wonderful collection of books on tape, CDs, and MP3 players (have you seen those, the library has some, they are cool, book and MP3 in one package, use your own headphones or headphones will be provided for you), that you can take out and listen to on your own. I cannot reach the illiterate people here, but I hope I can reach you.
The question begged is: what have I, the mad scientist, done for literacy in my life? Very little. I have taught English, run free book clubs at the local libraries, volunteered at the library doing necessary mundane tasks, worked for Read of America, donated books, and read to every child I have met who said they were bored and couldn’t run away fast enough to stop me. This is why I did blog today. To advocate that you think of something you can do to help encourage and develop literacy and go do it.
I helped a group of high school age students, possibly older, spell the word “theatre” today. Tricky, yes. I put it close to potato in difficulty. Remember, Vice Presidents need help expanding their literacy too. (Long story short for those of you a little younger than me Bush Sr.’s Vice President misspelled this one back in the day when visiting a school spelling test. No lie. I’m going to name names, yes I can spell Quayle both the name and the fowl quail, Quayle was the foul Quayle).
Yes. I am being smug. Why? Because maybe we need a little shock treatment here. Some people can’t read. So they turn on the radio, hear about the end of the world and believe. Some people can’t read. That’s not funny, but it might, in the end, spell the end of the world.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Theory and Popular Culture
Subject to private schooling during my formative years I was taught the theory of mass society when it comes to popular culture. The idea that the masses, as the inheritors of popular production threaten the elite is totally aristocratic. Maybe the masses threaten the old system where being a part of the elite allowed you to dictate what should be read, viewed, or thought important. But again and again the masses want to be a part of the same elite they critique, if the elite is the group making these decisions so that they might have economic power through the selling of their art. Whether the masses are a threat to capitalism and democracy, the very means by which they can become the elite and determine what is consumed, seems questionable.
It seems to me that mass society, if such buying trends should ever be separated from individuals linguistically, is at once interested in buying something new, and also something durable at the same time. It is a matter of human reproduction that the young people make decisions at some point about what culture to invest in and it would seem like parents, critics and teachers are teaching a type of economics where students learn to pick out artistic products that will last, if they are practical, or ones they prefer, when they feel more emotional, or often, to like ones similar to what they render, if they are selfish.
Essentially teachers (economically repressed themselves usually), seem to influence us in buying things that we can carry with us proudly for a long time. The threat to the teaching elite is only that the children will not purchase what the elite are selling: the books they write, or the music they produce. The business elite has long since learned to counter this by publishing the work of the economically disadvantaged (or non-teaching elite), no matter how revolutionary the content, and selling it everywhere. Making it available so that the economic power stays in the hands of the elite and the subversive ideas seem to be exposed as popular thereby generating the need for a counter-rebellion against the previous norm, and finally reinforcing conservative values. The flux from rebellion to conservation is so rapid today, that I advise following the dollars, not the text of the art, to show who is truly opposed to the elite, and to who just wants to be in charge of it.
At the point of purchase some decisions are shaped by a culture industry. What is at the book store is decided by companies. What is available on line, free content, like this blog you are reading, might be the most dangerous work in production. I recognize that I am sensitizing conservatives to this fact, but it’s cool, I’m a law and order type at my core. This is either due to the aforementioned education, or if you give me more credit, because I recognize law and order as safe. Safety is rejected only when not appreciated. I love a peaceful, friendly society, this is why I participate here in this revolutionary context of the internet, and why you should too.
It’s a matter of power relationships, something better understood with the theory of culture industry. These theorists think I work for the state. I kind of do. I don’t get paid by anyone, except anonymous donors, you can see my hand out over there with my digital “tip” jar, but I don’t want a revolution. I don’t want to be shot at, or stolen from. I just want varied, excellent art, and mass culture is not anathema to this anymore, in my polite conclusion. It creates art that will last, a ton of stuff that will be forgotten, but at the end of the day I want art that reinforces public safety and that I will still want on my shelves thirty years from now. My shelves are full of poetry, comics, and philosophy, but I am always weeding through them and eliminating what I will never read again. I share with you this process, to influence you in buying stuff that might last on your shelves too.
I am susceptible to the notion that an elite exists dictating what’s on radio and television. I don’t listen to radio, or watch television, but I did at one point, this is when mass decisions were made for me, I just sat there and received these decisions. This time of received content shaped me just as my education did.
But there is another sense of the elite: the elite of the intellect, where the smart kids make the art and “smart” can be taught to a point, but good art can’t be taught in my personal experience, and smart kids make great art with poor educations all the time, while great educations are still usually purchased in our culture, thereby handed to kids who don’t appreciate them, and watch out for what they like to write. Phew, it can be awful, irony intended.
Finally, or final for today at least, meaning right here: there’s the theory of progressive evolution. Capitalism provides us all with an opportunity to participate in capitalism says the theory, and the weeding out process I mentioned above about my bookshelf, is totally personal. But we all know money makes money, education can lead to smarter kids, so who are they fooling by thinking that anyone, no matter where they were born or to whom they were born can participate? Some families value education and the arts. Some don’t. Some people are disabled, so they lack the capital investment ability necessary to produce many types of art.
Or is that not true? I can’t afford to print a magazine, but I invested in a computer. As computers become ubiquitous, these blogs will be everywhere, so is this the height of the revolution? Me, a disabled, mentally ill guy, still having his say? Perhaps it is. Or maybe you are only still reading this because we share so many sensibilities thanks to our respective private (private in the sense of forced upon us, this can be public, private, or television) and personal (personal in the sense that we make our own choices about what we expose ourselves to) educations?
If I still have your attention let me leave you with a riddle: I think I spend way too much time reading about mutants and I don’t check out my Shakespeare often enough. Or is that my repressive aristocratic education rearing its ugly head? Why is the head reared so often ugly? Must be some old guy's head they are talking about...
It seems to me that mass society, if such buying trends should ever be separated from individuals linguistically, is at once interested in buying something new, and also something durable at the same time. It is a matter of human reproduction that the young people make decisions at some point about what culture to invest in and it would seem like parents, critics and teachers are teaching a type of economics where students learn to pick out artistic products that will last, if they are practical, or ones they prefer, when they feel more emotional, or often, to like ones similar to what they render, if they are selfish.
Essentially teachers (economically repressed themselves usually), seem to influence us in buying things that we can carry with us proudly for a long time. The threat to the teaching elite is only that the children will not purchase what the elite are selling: the books they write, or the music they produce. The business elite has long since learned to counter this by publishing the work of the economically disadvantaged (or non-teaching elite), no matter how revolutionary the content, and selling it everywhere. Making it available so that the economic power stays in the hands of the elite and the subversive ideas seem to be exposed as popular thereby generating the need for a counter-rebellion against the previous norm, and finally reinforcing conservative values. The flux from rebellion to conservation is so rapid today, that I advise following the dollars, not the text of the art, to show who is truly opposed to the elite, and to who just wants to be in charge of it.
At the point of purchase some decisions are shaped by a culture industry. What is at the book store is decided by companies. What is available on line, free content, like this blog you are reading, might be the most dangerous work in production. I recognize that I am sensitizing conservatives to this fact, but it’s cool, I’m a law and order type at my core. This is either due to the aforementioned education, or if you give me more credit, because I recognize law and order as safe. Safety is rejected only when not appreciated. I love a peaceful, friendly society, this is why I participate here in this revolutionary context of the internet, and why you should too.
It’s a matter of power relationships, something better understood with the theory of culture industry. These theorists think I work for the state. I kind of do. I don’t get paid by anyone, except anonymous donors, you can see my hand out over there with my digital “tip” jar, but I don’t want a revolution. I don’t want to be shot at, or stolen from. I just want varied, excellent art, and mass culture is not anathema to this anymore, in my polite conclusion. It creates art that will last, a ton of stuff that will be forgotten, but at the end of the day I want art that reinforces public safety and that I will still want on my shelves thirty years from now. My shelves are full of poetry, comics, and philosophy, but I am always weeding through them and eliminating what I will never read again. I share with you this process, to influence you in buying stuff that might last on your shelves too.
I am susceptible to the notion that an elite exists dictating what’s on radio and television. I don’t listen to radio, or watch television, but I did at one point, this is when mass decisions were made for me, I just sat there and received these decisions. This time of received content shaped me just as my education did.
But there is another sense of the elite: the elite of the intellect, where the smart kids make the art and “smart” can be taught to a point, but good art can’t be taught in my personal experience, and smart kids make great art with poor educations all the time, while great educations are still usually purchased in our culture, thereby handed to kids who don’t appreciate them, and watch out for what they like to write. Phew, it can be awful, irony intended.
Finally, or final for today at least, meaning right here: there’s the theory of progressive evolution. Capitalism provides us all with an opportunity to participate in capitalism says the theory, and the weeding out process I mentioned above about my bookshelf, is totally personal. But we all know money makes money, education can lead to smarter kids, so who are they fooling by thinking that anyone, no matter where they were born or to whom they were born can participate? Some families value education and the arts. Some don’t. Some people are disabled, so they lack the capital investment ability necessary to produce many types of art.
Or is that not true? I can’t afford to print a magazine, but I invested in a computer. As computers become ubiquitous, these blogs will be everywhere, so is this the height of the revolution? Me, a disabled, mentally ill guy, still having his say? Perhaps it is. Or maybe you are only still reading this because we share so many sensibilities thanks to our respective private (private in the sense of forced upon us, this can be public, private, or television) and personal (personal in the sense that we make our own choices about what we expose ourselves to) educations?
If I still have your attention let me leave you with a riddle: I think I spend way too much time reading about mutants and I don’t check out my Shakespeare often enough. Or is that my repressive aristocratic education rearing its ugly head? Why is the head reared so often ugly? Must be some old guy's head they are talking about...
The Mad Scientist
In the interest of raising awareness about mental illness, and to further contextualize this blog, I have decided to write a little bit about schizophrenia. I am a diagnosed schizophrenic, although most people can’t tell when they talk to me briefly because I am lucid, medicated, and - as of this writing - in remission. I am not entirely symptom free, nor am I cured, but my mental health is very good, with a very positive prognosis.
Schizophrenia is a common disorder, with one person out of one hundred people in the United States suffering from some form of the illness. They sometimes tell me I have schizoaffective disorder, a type of schizophrenia that includes a mood disorder, meaning that in addition to hallucinations, delusions, anxiety and paranoia, I also experience mania and depression. This is not to be confused with bipolar disorder, although the two illnesses are similar in some ways they are differentiated by the length of time spent in psychotic states.
I am now recovering from spending six years in a constant swirl of psychosis and a mess of manic mood swings. During this time I was blogging, communicating, and trying to lead as normal a life as possible. When I think about what I was thinking about during that time, I am impressed that I made such a good effort, but I am very thankful the symptoms have passed. I am also sorry if I acted confused or distant, I was.
Like most schizophrenic males, I was diagnosed at the age of twenty-one after my first psychotic break. I have experienced two periods of healthy remission where I worked and played and generally carried on like I was cured forever and could never get sick again. In both instances I was taken off of medication, relapsed, was hospitalized, and generally became a real pain to be around. Every time I have been sick it has taken longer for me to return to full functioning.
To be fair, I cannot speak for all people with this illness, but I can tell you I am very gentle, with a complete personal loathing for guns and gun violence. The recent shootings in Arizona, and subsequent news articles about mental illness, sadden and confuse me. I cannot tell you with any sincerity that people with this illness are any more or less violent than the healthy population, all I can do is serve as an example of a harmless, nonviolent schizophrenic. I think it is fair to say that I am afraid of the healthy population because of their interest in shooting and killing others, just as I am afraid of my own support for the war in the middle east. Why healthy people and schizophrenics share this conviction that it is okay to kill the right people is a complicated question.
Since I am not a threat to myself or others, (except in a theoretical pro-war sense), I am fortunate to live at home, with my parents, and with only cursory supervision. I work on my writing and I volunteer, but I am cautious about returning to a work environment for fear that I will experience another relapse. When I do relapse I am tremendously difficult to be around and I do not want to put my parents through this again. Also, if I were to relapse, it is likely I would be sick for even longer than last time. I personally don’t think I could handle another six years or more of psychosis. I hope my contributions are acceptable, but I struggle with this issue of work all the time.
I don’t think I will go into what it is like to hallucinate, or be paranoid, or have delusions. Let it be enough that such experiences are not fun and I do not understand why anyone would want to feel altered in any way anymore. Feeling sane and sober is such a joy to me that I recommend sobriety to all my friends, just as I recommend that everyone with any diagnosis of mental illness should take every pill they are prescribed. Why healthy and mentally ill people share in occasional enjoyment of altered states - with healthy people using drugs, and the mentally ill refusing to - is beyond my understanding once again.
If at times I seem flippant or insouciant when I joke about being a mad scientist, I am sorry. Humor is a great coping mechanism and I tell these jokes with self deprecation intended. If you are too crazy to take an occasional joke in these blogs, you might seek professional assistance.
I am always open to answering any questions about my experience and knowledge of schizophrenia in greater depth, so please, do not feel hesitant to communicate. I write this blog not for sympathy, but in the purest interest of survival. Both the Germans and the Russians had a horrible record of destroying people with mental illness in the twentieth century, and while I struggle with whether I am being paranoid I cannot be silent in a day and age when my health care is threatened by those political forces who would have you believe national health care is bad for you in some way. The treatments for mental illness are better than ever, and I have a right to exist free from persecution and life threatening illness.
To balance out the paranoia, I want to say that I love my country very much, and I am extremely thankful for the excellent medications and care that I have received and continue to need. Thank you.
Schizophrenia is a common disorder, with one person out of one hundred people in the United States suffering from some form of the illness. They sometimes tell me I have schizoaffective disorder, a type of schizophrenia that includes a mood disorder, meaning that in addition to hallucinations, delusions, anxiety and paranoia, I also experience mania and depression. This is not to be confused with bipolar disorder, although the two illnesses are similar in some ways they are differentiated by the length of time spent in psychotic states.
I am now recovering from spending six years in a constant swirl of psychosis and a mess of manic mood swings. During this time I was blogging, communicating, and trying to lead as normal a life as possible. When I think about what I was thinking about during that time, I am impressed that I made such a good effort, but I am very thankful the symptoms have passed. I am also sorry if I acted confused or distant, I was.
Like most schizophrenic males, I was diagnosed at the age of twenty-one after my first psychotic break. I have experienced two periods of healthy remission where I worked and played and generally carried on like I was cured forever and could never get sick again. In both instances I was taken off of medication, relapsed, was hospitalized, and generally became a real pain to be around. Every time I have been sick it has taken longer for me to return to full functioning.
To be fair, I cannot speak for all people with this illness, but I can tell you I am very gentle, with a complete personal loathing for guns and gun violence. The recent shootings in Arizona, and subsequent news articles about mental illness, sadden and confuse me. I cannot tell you with any sincerity that people with this illness are any more or less violent than the healthy population, all I can do is serve as an example of a harmless, nonviolent schizophrenic. I think it is fair to say that I am afraid of the healthy population because of their interest in shooting and killing others, just as I am afraid of my own support for the war in the middle east. Why healthy people and schizophrenics share this conviction that it is okay to kill the right people is a complicated question.
Since I am not a threat to myself or others, (except in a theoretical pro-war sense), I am fortunate to live at home, with my parents, and with only cursory supervision. I work on my writing and I volunteer, but I am cautious about returning to a work environment for fear that I will experience another relapse. When I do relapse I am tremendously difficult to be around and I do not want to put my parents through this again. Also, if I were to relapse, it is likely I would be sick for even longer than last time. I personally don’t think I could handle another six years or more of psychosis. I hope my contributions are acceptable, but I struggle with this issue of work all the time.
I don’t think I will go into what it is like to hallucinate, or be paranoid, or have delusions. Let it be enough that such experiences are not fun and I do not understand why anyone would want to feel altered in any way anymore. Feeling sane and sober is such a joy to me that I recommend sobriety to all my friends, just as I recommend that everyone with any diagnosis of mental illness should take every pill they are prescribed. Why healthy and mentally ill people share in occasional enjoyment of altered states - with healthy people using drugs, and the mentally ill refusing to - is beyond my understanding once again.
If at times I seem flippant or insouciant when I joke about being a mad scientist, I am sorry. Humor is a great coping mechanism and I tell these jokes with self deprecation intended. If you are too crazy to take an occasional joke in these blogs, you might seek professional assistance.
I am always open to answering any questions about my experience and knowledge of schizophrenia in greater depth, so please, do not feel hesitant to communicate. I write this blog not for sympathy, but in the purest interest of survival. Both the Germans and the Russians had a horrible record of destroying people with mental illness in the twentieth century, and while I struggle with whether I am being paranoid I cannot be silent in a day and age when my health care is threatened by those political forces who would have you believe national health care is bad for you in some way. The treatments for mental illness are better than ever, and I have a right to exist free from persecution and life threatening illness.
To balance out the paranoia, I want to say that I love my country very much, and I am extremely thankful for the excellent medications and care that I have received and continue to need. Thank you.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
On Theory: Deconstruction
I love the French philosopher Derrida’s classic and famous assertion that “There is nothing outside the text.” Everything is a text, I infer he connotes, and the notion opens all sorts of language phenomenon to interpretation. If there is only text, each language event or text event reverberates off of every other, and the relationship between these events is as important as the text in and of itself.
I am probably misinterpreting Derrida’s intention, but I think he would be fine with that. In fact, he would probably say it would be impossible not to misunderstand, so I might be wrong. I bring this up because his inspiration informs much of my theory and criticism, and because I want to point out, in advance, from whom and just how much I am borrowing when I make my outrageous statements.
Jacques Derrida wrote and conducted careful, close, and inspirational readings to find where texts contradicted their structural unity and authorial intent in the second half of the twentieth century. My lame translation of borrowed structures is just an explanation that he wrote theory that pointed out how complicated other theories were, to the point of showing how these theories contradict themselves or reinforce their points successfully, in turn. In effect, Derrida’s efforts seduce you away from what you think the original text means and into accepting what Derrida thinks it means, while illustrating that you probably misunderstand him too. When critics employ Derrida to enforce their power relationship over texts, we are trying to draw attention to our own ideas, but also to the simple fact that most text is very confused and confusing, especially when it tries to be simple.
Aporia is one of Derrida's great concepts. Aporia is like a point reached in criticism where you see there are so many ways to interpret the text that the reading can go no further. Finding the aporia is like deciding when to close the book and say “I cannot go on” and it is the point where the text diverged from it’s own intent irrevocably. Many people have already reached this point of divergence with this text but I am hoping my structural integrity is enough to propel you onward.
Derrida also believed in phenomenological historocity as indicative of structure. Structure without genesis is incomplete in his estimation. Complexity is claimed instead of hollow claims that a text exists with no past. Understanding intention then seems important when considering the structure. Intention is another level of complexity that seems inaccessible, but can be found in biographical criticism, and should be a consideration, alongside New Criticism that focuses on the text as is, which ultimately reflects the reader as much as it says something about the texts implicit denotation.
Then there is also differance to consider, or something not present in operation in a text. In my opinion differance is brought to a text by the reader, and is variable to the extreme. The reader cannot get what a second reader gets out of a text, so considering the text as whole without considering the reader or audience is incomplete. You can consider the writer’s intention, the times as indicated by other books co-existing at the time, and other factors that are not present in the text, as important to interpretation. Your personal context and the context provided by other readers deserves consideration. This is a move away from considering text complete as is.
So we have diverse language backgrounds that result in confusion. When you share symbols you have understanding. The Book Guru in me says simply: look for those who have read the same books as you and you will find friends.
My own critique of Deconstruction is that the theory is fantastic. The theory does not exist to be criticized but is an invitation to think critically at it’s very core. Deconstruction, to me, is a claim that every reading is valid, but only some readings are interesting, and yet I think it is more than resaying of the text or a crossing out where the lattice work is more important than what is said, as the French philosopher Focoult claims. (It’s cool that he’s French, trust me, no one who eats only freedom fries is still reading this). Deconstruction is a resaying of “the complete text” with complete reference and complete intertextualization desired, and inherently recognized as impossible. It is important to demonstrate that you don’t understand a text, that more could be going on than you inferred, and most likely far more than the author ever intended. This, I love.
But Deconstruction seems to be about power at some point, perhaps the point where criticism seems more interesting than the original text. But Deconstruction is a relationship to a primary and then a secondary text, with an admission that there are unconsidered texts that influence future readers of the primary and secondary texts, ad infinitum, so that confusion and misinterpretation seems dominant over understanding. To read is to confuse all other texts, all future texts, and to add context of your own is to confuse the matter even more.
Deconstruction may be a bias towards recognizing one’s ultimate Socratic lack of absolute understanding as in itself the only wisdom, but that is loaded with my personal bias. The canon may exist, but there are more people who misunderstand it from my perspective, most likely, than who get it. This leaves many readers feeling misunderstood when we face texts. In response Deconstruction is a personal power play that makes us feel like we are understood and therefore understand that which we recognize implicitly cannot be fully understood. Try or try not, there is no do, to mangle Yoda.
You can get it, but then try to tell someone what you have, and it is gone, absolutely.
The Moth Metaphor
In a recent post I promised some better explanation about why one should read comic books. My argument for why to read comics at the time had been based on purely personal excitement and emotional response. Fine reasons, but there are many good reasons to read comics and I begin my blogs on the topic with a convoluted moth metaphor.
There is a sense I get from most people that art tells it like it is, or at least this is what they like about the art they expose themselves to. These people assume art can tell you the truth that the truth can’t tell you. I think what we are sensing is truth contrasted against a backdrop of unbelievable fiction until the relative truth seems bright and clear. Like dark and light colors, the truth and fiction can be thrown together providing nice contrast or chaotic juxtaposition to taste. A little truth can go a long way to help you accept a fictional premise, a little fiction can make the truth seem stark and beautiful. Enjoying the game, we can lose our ability to discern which is which; too much fiction slips under our radar at times, with marginal amounts of truth involved in the experience, the contrast fades. So choosing what art we expose ourselves to can be important.
Comics about flying heroes present clear cut contrasts. This distinction between truth and fiction is blurred by many courtroom dramas, psuedo-documentaries, and Fox News, to create a short list, while readers are more critical of what we perceive in comics. Fiction is implicit in the premise, no one should jump off the roof to fly, so we bring our critical acumen to bare instead of allowing ourselves to be deceived. Comics, or graphic novels if you prefer, usually have visual content so fantastic that they demand that you recognize them as fiction in an immediate sense, with the relative truth being mostly conceptual and secondary. This is true in obvious ways in superhero tales of good vanquishing evil, and while there are as many types of comics now as there are literature, heroes and villains are central to what I think of as a comic book. By numbers, superhero comics have been outselling other tales for some time, so most of the time I will concentrate on this dominant content.
The truth I find in fantasy comics are important moral values reiterated in serial form. Readers find this truth in comics contrasted against extreme fantasy so that even simple claims about justice and morality seem obvious and sincere. Being a good neighbor, a good citizen, lending help when you can, all of this is implicit in the larger story of aliens and vigilantes.
Comics are complex enough to confuse these relationships between moral truth and fantasy in some interesting ways. For example, it seems believable that a man commits adultery when the women involved are both mutants with incredible powers of telepathy. Adultery happens, the story implies, but truth conditions are strained in both directions by the juxtaposition. People may assume adultery is more common than it actually is, as it takes on a level of truth that the telepathy does not share. Inversely, telepathy seems more probable to the person who assumes the human drama is handled with a deft touch, or if that it reverberates with their personal experiences and memories. A statistical representation of adultery and a consequent analysis of statistical bias would satisfy more of my criteria for truth, but the notion that adultery is a “normal” behavior seems emphasized in the comic book because there is so little truth to be had anywhere else in this tale. But for the most part, the fun is in the forensics and comics are packed with potential for such quirky deconstruction.
Comics are a language unto themselves, and one that should be understood or read critically. It is particular to serial adventure that the characters seem human in their longevity, and some motifs have grown to take on a life of their own. To state the obvious: no one should train their ward of the state to fight crime with them. This is ridiculous. But more recent comics, like Kick Ass, have told the story of contemporary fictional realities that imitate the earlier motifs, like the notion of a child fighting crime at the side of an adult, borrowed from Batman. Kick Ass is a reality (actually a second fiction) where life imitates art. The real lesson is to identify that being a demanding parental figure can produce morally upstanding and morally damaged children, but the fiction is so outlandish that it becomes difficult to discern if they are even saying this much with any precision. Yes, there are families where police and military professions are passed on to the child, but thinking this is accessible or understandable through comic book parables seems confused at best, and a dangerous invitation to a conservative prejudice in favor of the servitors of the law, when in fact our very society is founded on the assumption that the individual should be protected from it’s own system of governance.
Interpreting and always responding with a theory, a deconstruction, a fact, a positon, this might be better than responding with another fiction, then another, until the conversation is so confusing that the fiction produced is impenetrable or transparent. Perhaps only the response retains any merit. But without the art, if we have unadulterated truth only to respond to, maybe we wouldn't learn as much.
I am hooked on comics because they seem a rich area for such discussion and conjecture. Add to this the pure excitement and emotional reaction kids and adults have towards comics and you have an art form that begs to be read while being deep enough to merit interpretation. I return to stories with a moral element in the foreground, drawn like a moth to the light of good in them, seen clearly in the shadows of their miasmic fantasy. I so want to see the morality play illustrated again and again I seek out distant planets, magic powers, dramatic explosive fictions, to watch heroism, sacrifice, truth, commitment, honor, responsibility, and teamwork in perfect clarity.
So yeah, the kids are alright, like moths they seek the light.
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