LIKE A ROLLING THUNDER

I think there's a case to be made that Bob Dylan created the "toxic fan".  I say this after having seen an interview with Martin Scorsese regarding his new Rolling Thunder Revue "documentary" on Netflix.  In the interview, he's discussing his reasons for making this film and he comments that Dylan always seemed to be pissing people off and something about that caught my attention, especially after watching the film.  

Who could forget his pivotal transition from acoustic troubadour to electric rocker?  His so-called "fans" were absolutely livid!  We're getting used to this sort of revolt now, what with the likes of Star Wars fans bemoaning any attempt to move their precious franchise into new territory, but back then, it wasn't so common for fans to react so harshly against an object of their affections.  Sure, the Beatles had spurned some by making an unfortunate comparison of themselves to Jesus, but with Dylan, it was purely a revolt triggered by the artist's decision to evolve into something new.  

Dylan's willingness to let people be confused and even irritated with him is a big part of what makes this film so compelling.  It's also something of a horse of a different color in the sense that it doesn't fit neatly into either slot of "fiction" or "documentary".  Here, both musician and film maker collude to blur the lines between truth and fallacy and create something thoroughly dishonest, yet paradoxically sincere in a single turn.  It's the kind of thing that would leave a Star Trek android grasping for logical validation as its circuits shorted out while struggling to sort through fact and fabrication.  Watching the film, one gets the sense that one is dealing with some big truths while we're being buried in deceptions.

What we're presented with here is a willful act of misdirection.  I went into it knowing that it was partly fictionalized, though the big question for me was why they would want to do this.  What would be the point of mythologizing this story and introducing deliberate fallacies into the product?  I think a big clue to the answer comes from the opening sequence showing old film of the great Georges Méliès performing one of his early film "special FX" magic tricks.   Scorsese sets his intentions on the table up front.  He's going to use the medium of film to play some tricks on us, but within that process, he's going to reveal something deeper and more meaningful.

Let me backtrack a bit here and state that I'm not an actual "fan" of Bob Dylan in any significant regard.  I don't have any of his recordings in my personal music library, but I do have a passing respect for his legacy and have at least some familiarity with his more famous songs, mostly thanks to other artists' renditions of them.  As such, the thought of watching this movie was a bit daunting, especially given its over 2 hour run time.  But my respect for Scorsese piqued my curiosity and I finally made the effort to give it a go.  I have no regrets about that now as I was engrossed by it from beginning to end.

Why it had this ability to hold my attention is something that I'm continuing to grapple with as I try to pull this apart and understand its appeal.  This project could easily have settled on mere nostalgia and reminiscing on times gone by, but it manages to do more than that by showing us the creative process in action in a way that is stripped of preconceptions and pretenses.  Whether you're a fan of Dylan or not, you can't look at these performances and the processes leading to them without marveling at the creative spirit driving it all.  Ultimately, this film is a celebration of that unbridled creativity, even in the license taken with the truth in its creation.  

I think that, perhaps, the introduction of fictional elements into this story is part of the magic which makes it more than just a document of the past and gives it a life in the present.  That unhinging is a means of making it live in the now.  Watching it, you don't feel like it's just old history, but something alive and responsive.  Even in the transitions from contemporary interviews to the archival film of the performances, there's a dynamic tension that wrestles with the viewer and pushes you to engage in a more active way.  You can't simply accept anything at face value and that demands you question everything you're watching.

You kinda need to go into this with one foot in the world of fact and one in the world of fiction, looking at it as a story, but also a history come to life.  As a fiction, it needs good characters to work and there are no shortage of them here, whether they were real or not.  Dylan himself is both ethereal and down to earth, depending on where you find him.  His present day interviews offer a character who is matter of fact and plain spoken, but his archival character seems more enigmatic and obtuse and then his on stage persona becomes something else altogether.

Visually, he was into wearing white face paint, crudely applied, for these performances.  At one point, he comments that someone wearing a mask is "always going to tell you the truth".  It's a line that stuck out for me as it touches on the heart of this film; the interplay between "fact" and "fiction".  The fiction of the mask enables the fact of the words to come through as the distortion of the ego is negated by the mask.  Then there's the hilarious confession that he got the idea for the makeup after seeing KISS perform in New York (he didn't).  Topped off with his flowered hat and hobo vest, the look is perfectly contrived, but also perfectly natural.  RuPaul says that "we're all born naked and everything after that is drag" and Dylan's "drag" on this tour works brilliantly to create the traveling carnival ring master.

It all works to manifest an iconic persona which makes you want to pay close attention to what he has to say.  Often, lyrics in music can lose much of their meaning and impact as the melody and rhythm of the song turns them into an abstraction, but here, I found myself paying particular attention to them and feeling myself drawn into their stories.  Dylan's timing, phrasing and cadence all conspire to hook your attention into what he's saying even if he might be caterwauling somewhat off key, though that never seems to matter.  The force of his convictions makes the sound of his voice seem like an incantation, conjuring up the events and people he's written about.  

Beyond Dylan, there are many other notable characters.   Scarlet Rivera is magical as the so-called "Queen of Swords".  She is quintessential in defining the musical idiosyncrasy which is core to the band and the sound they make.  Her violin lifts these performances into something more metaphysical that simple "folk" music.  And her presence on and off stage offers a perfect example of how Dylan put this band together and then let them all shine as individuals within that setting.  This ties back into the idea of thwarting expectations as this "revue" deftly avoids playing into what the audience may have wanted in terms of "the hits" and offers them the "now" instead.  

The other key figure here is Allen Ginsberg, who, in his "old man of the mountains" role, doesn't demand his disciples climb up to him, but rather brings his mountain on the road and offers it to the people.  It is Ginsberg who provides the philosophical foundation upon which this endeavor is built.  His exhortation at the end of the picture is profound and inspiring as he pleads with the viewer to go out and try to create something for themselves, to set their own "traveling circus" in motion.  Earlier in the film, Dylan says that life is not about "finding yourself" or anything, but rather "creating" yourself and creating things.  The entire film is an example of this process, a reflection of it and a product of it. 

With this exploration of creativity comes a sort of "lament" for something which seems to be in danger of extinction as humanity swirls around the drain, preparing for its final flush.  There's a melancholy about the transience of the creative process and how it can leave only "ashes" in its wake.  Scorsese seems to be desperately trying to rekindle the kind of creative spark this film celebrates as we get a glimpse of an American spirit which has largely vanished.  This film appears at a time when the country is in a state of crisis like it has never seen before.  It's an existential watershed moment where what humanity does in the next few years will have profound effects on whether or not we can even survive as a species. 

Yet, within that big picture, the kernel of truth is best found in the smallest of moments.  The finest example of this is the scene where Joni Mitchell is performing at Gordon Lightfoot's house along with the rest of the band.  It's a moment of pure intimacy and raw creativity as she does what she does best.  And I have to say I was struck by how much it reminded me of what Laurie Anderson does, though without the technological trappings.  But I could see a clear line of connection between the mannerisms and narrative techniques of the two which I'd never seen before.  Regardless, the moment is precious and personal and clearly illuminates the essence of what is being celebrated and cultivated. 

These moments are all wrapped up in this crazy story about a group of artists flying in the face of practicality to produce something that can reach into the human heart.  The fictional film makers, managers and hangers on woven into this tapestry serve a purpose in underscoring the mammoth impracticality of this whole concept while highlighting the magic that it creates.  The concept of the Rolling Thunder Revue was to set a group of creative souls on the road and have them go to places where regular people rarely get to see artists of this caliber in a setting where they were able to present a performance free from  expectations.  While the general critical consensus at the time was decidedly mixed and the economics of it were a disaster, the emotional impact of it is profound when you catch it.  This becomes crystal clear in one shot of a woman after a performance who, at first, appears to be stunned and then breaks down into tears as the impact of what has just happened sinks in.  It's a perfect portrait of the interplay between artist and audience when that connection reaches its full potential.

I'm still trying to understand why this film connected with me as much as it did.  I wasn't expecting it and wasn't prepared for it, which is why I've felt compelled to spew so much verbiage.  I suspect I'll be delving into aspects of this for some time, which is a wonderful thing for any creative product to inspire.  It's not just something you watch and then forget and I think that's a pretty significant achievement for everyone involved. 

IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

If I could go back in time and give my younger self some advice, I'd tell that young boy some things which would change the way he'd live his life.   You see, from the vantage point I have now, I know that the world he's going to live in is far different from the one he thinks is ahead.  Back there, he was thinking about a world based on romantic notions of progress, potential and possibilities.  But what is really around the corner has nothing at all to do with any of those things.

Firstly, I'd tell him that, above all else, money is the most important thing with which he'll ever need to concern himself.  Acquiring it, keeping it and increasing it is the holy trinity he should be focused on to the exclusion of all else.  Money is power and influence and security and control.  Money is a passport to any lifestyle one chooses to live.  Money can buy whatever you need in any circumstance.  Money paves the way and makes all things possible. 

This, of course, means that the very first thing he needs to put aside is any inclination towards the arts.  My God, what a colossal waste of time and effort is contained in that pursuit!  I would regale him with terrifying tales of years spent pouring physical and emotional fuel into creating piles of useless expression never appreciated by a single soul.  I would horrify him with the hopelessness of trying to communicate with a world completely indifferent to every effort.  I would crush his hopes by painting a pallid picture of tossing great pearls before a world of porcine ignorance and swine incapable of appreciation or comprehension.  No, no, no!  First and foremost, forget all about that.  

Instead, I would suggest real-estate as one profitable pursuit.  Property ownership in the right areas is paramount because when you control property, you control people.  But there's also much to be done in the speculation and investment markets.  In fact, a good con can move masses into unleashing great gobs of capitol into your disposal.  The main point to remember here is that one need not be concerned with legalities or ethics in any way.  The acquisition of wealth is its own end and any means to that end is justifiable.  The only consideration is that, if you're going to play outside the rules, be smart about it and don't get caught crossing the lines.  However, if you do find yourself afoul of the law, be assured that money has its privileges and that "greasing" the right palm can go a long way to avoiding issues.  

As for people and relationships, I would counsel to view them as resources and always consider them expendable.  Other humans are merely there for your convenience and should be used unflinchingly and thoroughly and, once exhausted of their value, discarded with as little consideration as one would give a piece of soiled tissue.  Anyone who would be unwise enough to attempt to thwart your objectives or interfere with your plans should be dispatched as quickly, efficiently and mercilessly as possible.  Again, one should endeavor to avoid legal complications, but be cognizant that there are always means by which individuals can be cleanly "eliminated", particularly when the price is right.  

Romance is a trap and should be avoided at all costs.  Romantic entanglements will only ever compromise your standards and dull your judgement.  Indulge your sexual proclivities as freely and frequently as you like, but maintain authority over anyone whom you would involve in such activities and be prepared to dispose of that relationship the instant you detect any attempt to influence your actions or interests.  All such efforts by others are a distraction.

The future is only that time in which you expect to live and anything beyond that span is of no concern.  Therefore, plan only to secure your own comforts for as long as you can reasonably foresee your survival and no more.  What state you leave the world when you die is irrelevant because you won't be around to experience it, so don't worry about it.  It's unlikely that you'll leave any heirs behind anyway, so you don't need to make provisions for them or any other descendants.  

These are the core values I would impart to my younger self in the hopes that he would avoid the wasted life I have lived.  These are the true values of the world he will have to live in.  These are the codes driving the most successful people he will encounter in his life.  Look around and find a single example of "success" in this world which does not rest atop these very principles.  Look no further than the current leader of the free world to find the most perfect expression of these truths in action.    Don't tell me that there's another way of living, a "righteous" way where people don't trample all over each other to secure their success.  I don't see that world anywhere and I don't see any evidence it will ever manifest.  

No, this is what I would tell that boy before he set off on his journey.  This is the roadmap I would place in his hands and this is the future for which I would make sure he was prepared. 

THEY'RE EVIL AND THEY KNOW IT

I am primarily a rationalist in the sense that I tend to defer to a logical, reasonable analysis before considering anything more esoteric.  When it comes to concepts of "good" and "evil", I've tended to consider them relative rather than absolute.  Unlike religious believers, who anthropomorphize these concepts into concrete personifications of "God" and "Satan", I see them as an outcome of actions and events where living entities are either positively or negatively impacted by them.  The measure of this is whether or not the result promotes life and well-being or compromises it.  That which helps me live comfortably and securely is "good".  That which interferes with or threatens to terminate my continued existence is "evil".   Also, I've considered them to exist along a continuum where there is some shading of gray rather than purely black or white dichotomies.  This is the core of my ethical foundation in terms of assessing and evaluating behavior and events occurring in the world around me.

In recent years, however, what I've been witnessing in the world of human endeavors, particularly in the realm of politics, is something which seems to contradict this "relativistic" view.  I say this because what I'm seeing is so completely horrific and dispiriting that I cannot assign it any kind of "gradation" or relativism.  A "generous" interpretation of human motivations often asserts that people doing "bad" things usually don't think of themselves as "evil" and that, in their minds, they are engaged in perfectly justified and ethical behavior.  Nobody really sees themselves as the "villain".  We are all the "hero" in our own story.  But I can't look at some people and see someone behaving according to any kind of social value system, no matter how warped it may appear.

I can't look at someone like Donald Trump and see anything but a parasite motivated by nothing more than a desire to serve himself in a way which disregards the welfare of everyone else, even close allies and family members.  There is no sense of idealism in him beyond satisfying his immediate whim.  I don't believe he cares for or values anyone beyond what he perceives they can do to benefit him at any given moment and I don't believe that it bothers him to put anyone in jeopardy in the process.  I can't conceive of any redeeming quality within him.  He is absolute.  He is evil.  He is not misguided or ignorant of moral principals.  He knows what he's doing within the bounds that he sees his objective, seeks to satisfy it and then moves on to the next.  But there are no larger values involved in this process.  It is no more than self aggrandizement for its own sake within any given moment.  It is self contained and pure, like a shark prowling the ocean waters.

This is a true embodiment of malignancy.   He's like some villain from the old Batman TV show; crudely rendered, consistently contemptible and self actualized in his awareness that he is a criminal and a conman and his objectives are purely self-serving.  And these traits are blatantly obvious, even to the casual observer.  They couldn't be more apparent if he paraded around in a purple suite and pancake makeup.  Yet somehow, there is a significant segment of the population who support him and I cant' figure out what it is that sustains this loyalty.  There is not one trait about him which speaks to honesty, integrity, reliability, intelligence or any other characteristic normally sought in a leader.

The cronies and henchmen he surrounds himself with are also no more than a motley crew of fellow hustlers, thieves and deceivers.  Every one of them has the stink of criminality about them and I've no doubt that, if their closets were ever emptied, the corpses of their corruption would come tipping out  in a cascade.  And there is no self-deception going on there either.  They are all completely aware of their nature, their goals and their methods and the impact they have on others.  

All of this brings me to the inescapable conclusion that there is some form of maliciousness inherent in these people which is more than the product of a misguided or distorted value system.  This is a malevolence which lands squarely and unambiguously in the darkest pit of human psychology and it is not a trait which succumbs to any form of "redemption".  People who manifest within this state of being aren't going to turn around and respond to education or "enlightenment".  They are what they are and they are going to remain that way until the day they die.  The most appropriate psychological term which could be applied to these people is psychopathy. 

When it comes to differences of opinion, I'm a "live and let live" kinda guy.  I'm happy to let others live their lives as long as they're happy to do the same with me.  But these people, those marked by this "darkness", aren't looking for that.  They are actively engaged in an program of direct interference in the lives and livelihoods of others.  They wish to restrict women through regressive legislation, they wish to inhibit select races, creeds and religions and would no doubt resort to genocide were they given the opportunity.  They aren't looking to "get along".  They only seek to "get one over" and to take control. 

This all means that we can't simply treat this as an ideological disagreement.  We aren't debating economic systems or customs of behavior.  We're in a pitched battle for our very lives and it's about time we recognize this and stop playing like we're dealing with an adversary who respects boundaries and responds to reason and rationality.  They don't.  They never will and they'll never give up the power they've stolen without a fight and we have to be prepared to wage war with them.  Otherwise, we're all doomed as they destroy what's left of this planet to satisfy their own short sighted ends.  No election is going to fix this either.  They've corrupted and co-opted all the processes which were supposed to protect us from this kind of criminal.  All those systems are broken.  

In the end, short of waging bloody battles in the streets, what can reasonable people do about this?  Well, the first step is to stop pretending this is "normal" and to acknowledge the evil in our midst.  We have to call it out, name it and stop trying to be "polite" and "respectful", as if this is just a little tiff and a difference of "opinion".  This is a difference of fundamental metaphysical incompatibility.  As much as we don't want to take away someone else's freedom, we have to recognize that it's OUR freedom at stake here and compromise with this enemy isn't possible.  We have to make it clear that we see who they are and what they're doing.  And we have to stop cooperating with them.  We have to stop playing their game.  We have to refuse to let them pretend that what they're doing is "fair play" or moral or justified.  It isn't and it never will be.

This is real evil and it knows what it is.  It's palpable and defined and sitting right there in the seats of power all over this planet.  It must be stopped before it's too late.

THEY BUILT THIS CITY FOR SOMEONE ELSE

I've lived in Vancouver, BC, since October of 1982.  I came here by way of Powell River after leaving my home town of Thunder Bay, ON, in August of 1982.  I remember coming into the downtown on a gray, rainy day, but for me, the city shone like the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz.  I was 19 years old, I'd just left home and this place seemed like it might have some possibilities for a young man just starting out on his own.  It's been my home ever since then and it has generally felt like home for most of that time, but the last few years have made it feel more like a place being built for someone else and not me.

I've noticed it primarily in the boom of construction which has erupted in the West End and across the city in the last few years.   So many towering luxury high rise apartment buildings are leaping up into the sky, it staggers the mind to think of all that real-estate propagating so quickly.  But I don't know who is going to live in all of these places.  I don't have any relationship with the people who are building these structures nor the people who will live in them.  I only know that I won't be one of them.  I'll never set foot in any of these places and I'll never know anybody who lives in them.  Somehow, I got left out of this new city.  It's not being built for me and it has no interest in me or my welfare, regardless of what I might have to offer. 

You might ask what makes me think this way and, to be honest, I'm not sure how I know this, but I am as sure of it as I am that the world is round (though even that has become debatable again, somehow).  What is certain is that I've been disconnected from the economy which is driving this construction and growth and there does not appear to be any means of interacting with it in such a way which would make it possible for me to even conceive of living a lifestyle which would include inhabiting one of these steel and glass stacks.  Whatever it takes to earn the kind of money that one needs to rent or own one of these homes is completely beyond the scope of my abilities.

I'm not at all certain of how I got to this position.  In fact, I was gainfully and relatively affluently employed for many years, but even then I was somehow not able to work myself into a position where accessing this level was possible.  Even when I was pulling a high five digits for my annual gross income, I was only ever able to indulge little beyond splashing out for a bit of takeout food and a few tech toys here and there.  I never owned a home or a vehicle and never had a family to support.  Yet I didn't even have enough to get my damn teeth fixed, something which now poses a serious health risk to me and also, aesthetically, means I can't present myself in public with any confidence, given that a gap-toothed, dingy yellow smile is nothing less than a stamp of impoverishment.  16 years working "professionally" still left me with no foothold by which I could maintain even a modest lifestyle.  

While I may not be in possession of formal accreditation in any field, I worked professionally in technology, including documentation, testing, design and implementation, long enough to merit those qualifications based on experience alone.   I am in possession of ample natural talents and acquired skills to enable me to perform exceptionally in many different fields and applications.  Yet, none of that bares any weight anymore and, going into application or interview processes, I can sense, intuitively, that I am automatically excluded from consideration the moment I present myself.  There is some factor involved which shuts the door to all avenues of potential for me.  The days when friends and family networked together to help each other secure employment seem to have vanished.  Even with social media, it seems that the process of using personal relationships to remain connected to society have broken down and ceased to function.

In some regard, I suspect my age, being over 50, has played a significant role in this.  My ongoing health issues may factor in as well, though they are neither obvious nor chronic enough to be apparent without actual knowledge of my medical history.  Whatever the case is, I'm certainly the "potato" that's fallen off the truck and there doesn't seem to be any way to get back on.  The city that is re-inventing itself before my eyes most definitely has no role for me to play in it.  This place is now a playground for the wealthy and nothing being built here is manifesting with any intent to create communities or social infrastructure. 

What we have is purely driven by economics.  It's about money and nothing more.  These places are investments, not homes.  They're tools for laundering illicit cash flows.  It's just a means to an end - busy work for the sake of "growth", but without any conscious goal where the lives and well-being of people are in mind.  When I walk around certain areas in the West End, particularly along Coal Harbor, there's a faint sense of emptiness as so many of these properties sit vacant, purchased by people who aren't there and may only show up once in a while, if at all.  These properties are no more than line items in a portfolio of assets.  No dramas will play out within their walls.  No events of lives lived will haunt their interiors.  Only the movements of soulless automatons calculating interest rates will disturb the dust as it settles in these lifeless abodes.  

This flurry of activity flies in the face of the looming ecological and climate crises which lurk at the threshold of the "day after tomorrow".  It's so close to landing on our heads, but the busy bees keep working, oblivious to the futility of their efforts.  I think of the "ghost" cities of China, built for no one.  They were driven by the myopic obsessions of hyper-capitalistic investments with no human condition perceived within their planning.  Money disconnected from benefits other than increase.  

I've lived in my building since 1986, nearly 33 years.  I've somehow managed to maintain my existence here by the skin of my teeth and through sheer force of will.  I dangle on a precipice, only needing the occurrence of a property sale to trigger the "renoviction" process which has consumed so many low income residents in the past few years.  I'm in a prime location for something like that to happen.  I've seen building after building torn down across this city only to be replaced by greater, grander structures with price tags exponentially higher than what was there before.  None of this is meant for so-called "regular" people.  Only those of extreme affluence are welcome here and I don't know them at all.  I don't know who who they are, I don't know what they want, I don't know where they think they're going with all of this.   

It's like aliens have landed and taken over.  They have no interest in our existence.  We are a mere inconvenience to them.  We will be eliminated in time.  So I hang on to what little I have left until I can do no more.

BELIEF IS FOR THE BIRDS - BIRD BOX ANALYSIS

A while back, I watched the Netflix film, Bird Box, and wrote out a few thoughts.  This is less a review and more an analysis of the themes and symbolism used in the film.

There was a lot of chatter about this movie when it was released and I can see why.  It's one of those films which is just vague enough to illicit speculation and varying interpretation while giving enough specifics to ground it in experiences that anyone can relate to.  Personally, there were some things about it that I found a bit frustrating as someone who generally likes to know what's going on and why. Also, the practical logistics of all this suggest some massive plot holes in terms of how anyone could survive this scenario at all.  However, when you're dealing with allegories, sometimes its best to put practical considerations aside and deal with what's being presented with a certain suspension of disbelief.

Allegory is certainly what this presents the viewer, but which allegory is where interpretation may vary as I can see a few possibilities cropping up.  I saw some comments before watching this which theorized it's about racism, so I went into it looking for those references, but honestly, I don't know if that's really very pertinent to this tale.  For me, the most obvious conclusion to draw from this story is that "ignorance is bliss", given that the main contention here is that what you don't see can't hurt you.  From there, I suppose the question is, what could one ignore to the point where it would be advantageous to one's survival?

In the film, "seeing is believing" takes on a new meaning as each individual goes through their own reaction, though these reactions tend to break down into two main variations. Either one becomes suicidal and self destructive or one becomes a "convert" to whatever this menace is and attempts to ensure everyone around them is exposed to it as well. The "converts" seem to be able to continue to function in the world in some sense while the others seek nothing beyond immediate and irreversible annihilation. What's left are those few who remain ignorant or unexposed as long as they don't see what's in front of them.

When I consider the symbolism, I can't help but see a connection to the current political climate, particularly in the US.  People who get wrapped up in the madness either feel hopeless and helpless or they become part of it and try to encourage it. Those who refuse to get absorbed by it seem few and far between, but maybe they're the ones who are best off. I don't know. This idea that being blind to something can protect you from it seems counter-intuitive to me.

Since watching it, the interpretations I've come across have focused on Mallory and how the story is about her connecting with people again after starting off as an isolated, detached character afraid to love or commit to relationships. I'm not so sure that's the real point of what's going on here either.  I don't know how the act of cutting off perception of the world around you is supposed to help bring people together.  I've always felt that the opposite of that was true.

I guess where that leaves me is confused as to the moral of the story given that we never find a way to exist in this world without being restricted in a very major way. Though the main character finds herself discovering her ability to care about others and create relationships, she's still trapped in a world where exposure to it leads to destructive and devastating consequences. It's a place where, ultimately, the people who are most adapted to it are those without the ability to perceive it. Truly a case of "the blind leading the blind".

After considering it for a day or two, however, I finally hit on something that made sense to me.  The key is looking at the basic metaphysics involved here and the question of whether what's happening is "natural" or "supernatural".  The answer to that, for me, is obviously the latter.  This is not some virus or man made contagion or invasion.  This is some kind of divine judgement.  This is what happens when humanity sees that there is no "God".  

Most people can't deal with it and, faced with an indifferent, uncaring universe, implode and self destruct.  Some, the "atheists", embrace it and want everyone to see what they see.  They go around trying to make everyone look at what they see.  The "monster", for them, is beautiful and they're shown as godless heathens.  The "believers" that remain spend the movie trying not to see the "truth".  They end up trying to survive in an isolated enclave run by "blind" people, those who are incapable of seeing the truth of a godless universe and continue to live in ignorance. They survive by ignoring the evidence of their senses and clinging to their belief.

This is what religion offers.  It's an excuse to keep your eyes closed and not see the vast indifference of the universe and how it swallows us up in its enormity.  Those who embrace this knowledge are characterized as fanatics and insane, when the reality is that the believers are really the ones who are locked away from understanding reality.  Ultimately, this film is an endorsement of ignorance as a means of security and safety.  It tells the viewer that seeing is a curse and that blindness is a blessing. 

DON'T BRING ME DOWN - THE VEIL OF DEPRESSION

 

I've lived with periodic depression, to varying degrees, most of my adult life.  There are times when I've wondered whether or not it was "clinical".  Recently, I requested a referral from my doctor to a psychiatrist to see if that might be the case.  After two sessions with him, he concluded that I did not appear to be suffering from any particular pathology and that I would likely benefit more from counseling rather than medication.  The premise here is that my emotional state is based on my world view and that by changing my perspective, I could alleviate my symptoms.  Thinking about this, however, I began to wonder why the onus was on me to change my attitude and why my environment and the world around me had no role to play.  Why is it so unreasonable to think that the world really does suck?   Why wouldn't this be a fair justification for someone to feel depressed?  Why am I not allowed to feel negatively when the world around me is in a tailspin, hurtling into an abyss of annihilation and catastrophe? 

Depression has recently become perceived as a symptom of mental illness or else the result of simply having a poor attitude towards the world around you.  I never see any health professionals cop to the idea that maybe things in the world really are awful and that responding with negative emotions is actually a healthy reaction to an untenable situation.  We're always being told that we must have a "positive attitude" towards life, yet my direct experience of it is that this approach is more likely to create psychological discord than responding honestly with anger, frustration or disappointment when surrounded by situations where injustice, inequity, cruelty and criminality are the order of the day.  

I feel like I've been mourning the death of the world ever since I was old enough to perceive the fatal trajectory upon which humanity had thrust itself.  Nothing that I've seen around me during that time has done anything to assuage this perception that we are all plunging at terminal velocity towards an impact which will leave us with no out.  For nearly 40 years now, I've borne witness to one atrocity after another, stacked upon a mountain of madness laid down long before I ever existed.  

I can remember quite distinctly a day when I was no more than 13 when I was suddenly overcome with this sort of grief at the realization of the hopelessness of humanity.  It was the quintessential "existential crisis".  The Buddhists refer to this as the "trance of sorrow" and see it as a first stage of enlightenment.   But it also ties in with the classic description of the "five stages of grief"; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  When I look back over my life, what I see is myself going through each of these stages as I've matured and aged.  

What I've also realized about these "stages" is that they don't occur like people think, as discrete steps where one goes through each and then leaves it behind for the next.  It's not like passing through a series of rooms where each response remains distinct and separate.  It occurs to me that it is much more like the building up of layers, like when sediment settles at the bottom of a river or lake.  You don't move beyond these reactions, they just get buried under the next.  My anger is still present, but it's hidden under the layers of bargaining and depression that have built up over top.  

In my youth, I struggled against the inevitable finality looming off in the distance.  I latched on to idealism and fantasies of a future where technology and science would solve our problems and propel us to the stars.  Then, the angry young man took over, rebelling and bucking against the restraints of the society of which I was a part.  Eventually, I became a part of that system and tried to work within it.  Through years of pursuing a career and achieving some success, I felt like I could work out some kind of a deal.  As I began to slip into greater maturity and dealt with losing my career and my health, the depression took hold and drove me down into the depths of despair.  Now I face the inevitability of this doom and feel the sediment of acceptance, or rather, resignation, building up the final layer.  

Yet I'm supposed to "think positively" and be optimistic about tomorrow.  Despite the visions of doom and destruction that lurk in my mind and parade themselves across every vista I observe, I'm supposed to pretend they don't exist and that it's all going to work out somehow.  That is what is considered "mental health".  To me, it feels like delusion and self deception.  In my core, I know that this approach is a lie and the kind of stupidity which lays at the root of the cancer growing within our species.  I'm supposed to pat down that top layer of "acceptance" and smile while the weight of it crushes me, but what I want to do is dig up that dirt and uncover my rage and my denial again.  I want to rail against this acceptance.  I want to scream out my refusal to give in to this hopelessness.  

I don't want to feel good about this world because this world is a disaster and a crime scene and it needs to be called out for its abuses.  I don't want my emotions to be a deception or a mask covering up the truth of my existence.  I want to face it honestly and truthfully.  If I'm feeling depressed, it's not just because of some chemical imbalance or unfounded attitude.  It's because I'm seeing the sadness that surrounds me and I'm responding to it in the way which nature intended.  If there's even a slight hope of escaping this nightmare, it will only happen because people truly become horrified by what they're witnessing and are no longer willing to "accept" it. 

We shouldn't be asked to tolerate this.  We shouldn't have demands placed on us to be "positive" in the face of the desecration being perpetrated against this wonderful, beautiful planet and all the amazing life that resides on it.  We should feel awful about it and express those feelings. And if that makes some people uncomfortable, GOOD!  They should be.

IS MUSIC A DEAD ART?

 

Let's begin by defining what I mean by the term "dead art". In essence I'm referring to an art form which is no longer capable of significant technical or conceptual progress and no longer has the capacity to instigate change on a cultural level. An example of what I would consider a "dead" art would be painting, at least in the sense of something hanging in a traditional gallery somewhere. Perhaps it can be said that certain forms of graffiti still manage to trigger controversy and commentary. A practitioner such as Banksy is an example of someone able to inspire discussion and make political statements through their art. Street art aside, I don't see anything happening in that particular branch of the visual arts world which is likely to cause much of a stir or inspire anything to happen beyond its canvases. At most, paintings now simply decorate a room.  Perhaps the work of Warhol may have been the last time paintings had any particular impact on the larger cultural landscape other than, for example, soliciting outrage at the expense of a "stripe" on a canvas.  

I"m old enough to have experienced at least three major cultural shifts within my lifetime which I can say were, more or less, directly linked to a particular musical movement. In my childhood, the late 1960s, there was the psychedelic explosion. Though the primary impetus for that change was a narcotic, specifically LSD, its route through western culture was entirely paved by music. It was rock & roll bands who were sounding the clarion call and it was songs about altered perception which seduced the youth of the era into "tuning in, turning on & dropping out". Without bands like The Beatles, Pink Floyd, The Grateful Dead and others, the word would never have been able to reach as many people as it did.

In my adolescence during the late 1970s, it was the three headed Cerberus of "punk", "new wave" & "industrial" music which broke kids out of their doldrums and got them thinking, dressing and behaving in new ways.  It was a rebellion against the status quo and conformity which had set in after the comedown of the hippies left their parents dropping the love beads and packing up the station-wagons that drove them out into the bland mediocrity of the suburban landscape.  

In the spring of my adulthood, the final revolution came about through the entwined twins of hip-hop/rap music and electronic rave culture spearheaded by acid house and techno music in the late 1980s and early 1990s.  Starting in the early 1980s, before the cancerous spread of gentrification and rising property costs, the warehouse was the scene where exploration and experimentation could happen.  You could get a cheap space for a couple hundred or less per month and pay for it by selling unlicensed booze at weekend parties a few times a month.  Designer drugs, mobile sound systems, isolated locations and trance inducing music sent youth back into tribal states of ecstasy and transcendence. Though a callback to the spirit of the 1960s in the case of the rave scene, the hip-hop crowd veered into the raw street rage of gangster culture.  It shone a glaring light on issues such as police brutality, racism, class discrimination, poverty and injustice.  In either case, it was again a time when adults were afraid of what their kids were getting into.     

Outside of my own personal experience, music as a driver of cultural influence practically only goes back to roughly the beginning of the 20th century.  Before that, you only had folk and traditional music available to the general public and those forms tended to reinforce and sustain existing norms rather than drive changes to them.  On the other extreme, with "classical" music, you might have some influence within the upper crust of society, but very little beyond it.  Religious music, like folk music, tended to sustain tradition rather than spur innovation.  It's not until the advent of recording technology that the idea of true "popular" music comes into play as the populace gain access to mass produced music mediums and playback systems accompanied by radio broadcasts.  Also, the push to innovate, driven by the industrial revolution and its technological advances, begins to trigger changes in music technology and techniques, and consequently, culture.  

The first popular music form to trigger controversy in the general public comes with the birth of jazz.  Elitist art movements like the Futurists and Dadaists may have inspired extreme experimentation with sound, but it was not something that noticeably effected the masses and remained a novelty of the galleries and wealthy art circles.  Jazz, on the other hand, came up from the black communities and was entirely driven by the "grass" roots (pun intended).  This was music that was accessible by the average person and was one of the first times music was seen as being a degenerate influence on youth.  It impacting dress styles, dance, sexuality and social issues.  The ideas of losing one's inhibitions and free expression were built into the very DNA of jazz and these have been a recurring theme throughout every musical epiphany and paradigm shift which has occurred since. 

In the 1950s, there was the birth of that great BEAST, rock and roll.  Here was a hybrid between white western swing music and black boogie-woogie blues with a backbone borrowed directly from native American aboriginal music, thanks to the Creole merger of Louisiana post-slavery blacks and "Indian" blood.  This combination proved combustible beyond anyone's imagination and sent the entire north American continent into a spin, one which would ultimately bust out onto the world stage and influence youth around the globe, from Europe to Africa to Asia.  Rock & roll was the proverbial "Pandora's Box" and, once that lid was open, all manner of wicked spirits flew out.

When you line all of these movements up, you have a 20th century popular culture which was continuously and repeatedly impacted and influenced by musical movements.  In each case, these changes were derided  and dismissed by conservative, "adult" overseers as subversive, perverted and destructive to the moral fiber of the youth and the nation.  There was a sense of threat and menace perceived by the "powers that be" which drove them to do whatever they could to stifle and inhibit the spread of these movements and, without exception, those efforts not only failed, but likely resulted in even more popularity for whatever it was they were trying to stop.  

Throughout the 20th century, there was also a marked and obvious change in the styles, techniques and technologies used to create music.  Something that was popular in the 1950s sounds completely different from something popular in the 1960s.  Take any decade or even the span of a few years and a major evolution could take place.  Anyone with even a basic familiarity with 20th century popular music can listen to virtually any tune and peg, fairly accurately, when it was made.  The style of playing, the recording techniques, the way it was mixed - all these clues tell the tale of when that recording was made and often where and by whom.  

Flash forward to the 21st century and things seem to have reached a kind of impasse in terms of forward momentum and cultural significance.  Since the 1990s, I can't think of any significant cultural shift which has been driven by music.  Technological changes such as computers, internet, smart phones and wireless networks have had far greater impact on our lives than any art form.  The machinery of the popular media has become so efficient at assimilating creative product, that nothing seems to be able to upset the cultural "apple cart" these days. 

Stylistically and technically, music has essentially plateaued.  We're two decades into the new millennium and I can put on a recording from 1995 and put it next to something form 2015 and only the most sophisticated, knowledgeable listener would be able to distinguish their origins.  For several decades, beginning with the unfortunately termed "Krautrock" of the early 1970s, electronic music was at the forefront of innovation and experimentation.  From the "motorik" rhythms of Kraftwerk and Neu to the ambience of Cluster & Eno to the pulsing sequencers of Tangerine Dream, the German music scene blasted the lid off and broke away from the rigidity of American blues archetypes.  After this, experimentation flew off in all directions through post punk, industrial, techno and a plethora of sub-genres, constantly evolving throughout the 1980s and 1990s.  But it all kind of stalled out after that.  Beyond the shifting of tempos between drum & bass and dubstep, the genres seemed to stabilize and consolidate and, with only minor variations since, they've remained relatively constant and consistent.

Culturally, no one gets upset about what a music personality does these days except for the most trivial and sensational issues of bizarre conduct or eccentric individual behavior.  Today, when Kanye West stirs up the media, it's because he's boasting about himself or proposing some laughable indulgence.  The days when politicians would discuss a Johnny Rotten in parliament or a president would put a John Lennon on a subversives list are long gone.  Rap music is more concerned with money and status these days than social justice, for the most part.  At least that's the kind of content that ends up in greatest rotation and gains the highest profile.  And those who do seek to make critical statements are commodified to the point where they are no threat to anyone in the establishment.  They are all neatly and safely packaged and peddled to the appropriate pauper for consumption.  

It seems that most art forms go through a similar arc in terms of their evolution.  They begin in primitivism, as an expression of the masses, evolve into more refined, classical complexity in the hands of the elite and then expand into more experimental realms such as abstractionism, surrealism, modernism and impressionism before ultimately culminating in various forms of post-modernism, which creates hybrids between all of these various branches.  Once you get to the stage of post-modernism, works tend to become self-referential and the commentary becomes an internal dialogue.  That point where the art is able to interact with and influence people and culture on a large scale begins to diminish and disappear.  The medium then tends to fade into the background as mere decoration or embellishment. 

This is where we seem to have arrived at in terms of the art of music.  It now seems to be no more than a structural component rather than something that stands on its own.  People spend less and less time sitting down and listening to music anymore or taking any kind of message or influence from it.  It's mostly just something that's happening in the background. It's no more than a form of "wallpaper" or distraction and not a primary focus of attention.  It's not that that there's anything intrinsically wrong with that, but for someone who grew up with music that made revolutions, I can't help but express a sort of lamentation for the loss of that capability.  Parents don't get scared by their kids records anymore.  Sure, they may not like them or find them objectionable for aesthetic reasons, but they rarely worry that their kids might join some subversive movement because of whatever is hiding in those grooves.  Even that terminology is irrelevant now as most people don't use physical media anymore except as a fetishized object for some hipster sense of nostalgia.

It's not that no one is doing "good" music.  As subjective as that may sound, there are very real standards which can provide a sense of value and quality for any piece of music.  Talented artists are creating quality recordings and performances.  It's just that the sense of a sharp, cutting edge has gone.  I can't look out there anywhere and find anything that gives me that quiver in my gut feeling that something "dangerous" is going on. 

If there is any art form remaining which can get the hackles up of the establishment, I'm not sure I know what it is or where to find it.  I suppose the most dangerous, subversive medium on the planet these days is the dark web, but this is more a place of criminals and perverts than revolutionaries.  If they do exist there, they're doing a pretty shitty job of pulling the pins on this nightmare we're all trapped in.  At a time when we are staring down the barrel of extinction level global catastrophes, we need that revolutionary voice now more than ever.  We need something that can wake us out of this zombie like trance that keeps us lumbering ever closer to the precipice awaiting our final stumble.  If it's out there, I have yet to see it.