Listen to Reason Part-2

Fear and masses.

The United States Constitution guarantees, to all citizens, the right to assembly. Why? The answer is simple, many of the framers of the Constitution believed revolution to be necessary to a healthy democratic government, and wanted to facilitate this action when it came due. There is strength in numbers. In Chicago, as I’m sure is the case in many other cities, it is illegal for a large number of people to loiter, regardless of their activity.* Why? There is strength in numbers. Only a fool would suggest otherwise. It has widely been considered for thousands of years that mob mentality is both the most effective weapon and largest threat available to us as humans. Conquest is impossible without huge numbers, and revolutions are won by the many. It is empowering to think that you, I, every one of us, is an integral part of something great, or the potential for it. As only part of the whole can do, each individual is great, provided that that the rest of the whole backs us up. I find the most interesting aspect of this to be the inverse of directional mob action, mass hysteria. Few things in the world are functionally more diametrically opposed. One shining example of what a well directed mob can do is the storming of the Bastille. The poor and down trodden French citizens kicked off their revolution with the bloody conquest of a prison. (The Bastille was often used as a political prison, and many were unjustly held there.) It was their numbers which allowed them victory. Now, imagine a similar group standing idle, like sheep, harmless. Then, just hypothetically, we throw a tear gas grenade into the crowd. One person sees it and thinks, “It’s only tear gas, if we stay calm, we’ll be fine.” But he is only one. Another sees it and thinks, “that’s a real grenade; we’re all going to die.” Another sees it and thinks, “If everyone panics, I’ll be trampled to death.” One gasps, one sighs, one screams, one runs, one pushes, one cries. When sheep graze, any alarming sight or sound causes them to flee, but they are pack animals, synchronized, they evade. We are not pack animals, we think like individuals. One, seeing reason and logic, raises her voice above the crowd, “Don’t panic,” but she is too late. It has begun, suddenly, this is Hemmingway, it’s Pamplona, except the people and bulls are one and the same. Many have no idea why they are panicked. Nevertheless, this crowd is a whirlwind of destruction and death, inconsolable, nearly unstoppable. Each member’s fear feeds the other’s, and self-preservation supersedes cooperation. We have learned a valuable lesson; though numbers may help us when we are resolute, they are volatile and fear can destroy them and their cause.
We are, if only in intent, a nation of, for, and by the people. Democracy, as beautiful as it may be, is a glorified title for what is essentially, the concept that a mob can rule itself. In fact, that it is preferable. As Americans, we are the individuals who form the mass, it is, predictably, empowering. We labor under the delusion that we can enact change, through our constitutional right to assemble and associate. In appearance, we can, but that is a discussion for another day. This power, control over our own state, is a major cause of what is considered typical American bravado. I am proud to have the right to form a mob, as are many others, as is our right. I have a bit of bad news for you, a flash of reality; we have not exercised this right to productive ends for two hundred and thirty one years. Our nation’s population nears half a billion, if we were to function en mass it would be impossible to control. We would operate like a biblical plague of locusts, like spooked bulls, simply destroying without reason. The powers that be know this, and deep down, we know this.
Propaganda is most effective when subtle. I don’t presume to be so smart that I know what’s going on, in the conspiracy theory, grand scheme sense of the term. What I observe is that the vast majority of us is panicked and frozen, politically, socially, and intellectually impotent in the face of fear. I look at the popular media, and the not so popular media, and I see myself standing in the crowd, staring down a tear gas grenade, all the while thinking, “It’s only tear gas.” Bomb threats, Anthrax, the TSA, homeland security, terrorism, we are being frightened into utter helplessness. The threat, the paper tiger which is causing us to load our guns and bolt our doors, is not as dangerous as we think. Terror attacks will not destroy our nation. They will hurt, kill, or terrify a relatively small number of people. The really clever and tricky thing is that a mob in resolve becomes individuals in fear. We fear terror attacks because they could hurt us individually. Someone, intentionally or otherwise, is putting pressure on our individual fears. The unfortunate result of this is that is keeps our eyes off of the real threat; THE CROWD! The tear gas wasn’t the threat, the crowd, disassembled by fear, panicked as individuals is what causes the dangerous condition.
I see nothing in the media except fear mongering and low brow pandering (the variety of which I spoke in part-1). We are being thrown into a frenzy of panic, keeping us from assembling productively. I beg of you all, reject fear. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, “We have nothing to fear, but fear itself.” At no point in American history has this been more pertinent. We do not face an enemy who will invade our borders and subjugate our people. We face social destruction by virtue of our own terror. Let it never be said that the United States of America was destroyed by its own shadow.


*I need to look for more substantial evidence, but this ordinance was challenged as being unconstitutional. I don’t know what the finding was, or if there has been one yet.

Listen to reason-Part 1

Some days I just don’t have anything to say.

Today is not one of those days. This is the part where I channel the spirit of a crotchety old man and sincerely believe that I know what’s wrong with the world. Because I do damnit!
Why does anybody know the name Wayne Gretzky? Joe DiMaggio? What about Ludwig Von Beethoven? The answer is obvious; because they were good at their respective professions. The famous people, the infamous people, traditionally became one of these social elite through some merit of their own. Great artists, performers, athletes, warriors, industrialists, and entrepreneurs, the list could continue indefinitely. To achieve fame one needs only excel at something to a point that interests the public. Not as easy a task as it may seem. Success is hard work, and how!? It must be difficult to succeed, necessitated by the very nature of being a living thing. If success (ie survival) were easy, everyone would do it. EVERYONE. They would then proceed to pass on their genes. But wait, those genes have not been put to the test, they could be flawed. Following that chain of events, thousands, maybe millions, of years and we have a species riddled with birth defects and genetic liabilities, which would have otherwise been bred out via natural selection. Also, evolution and adaptation are brought about by the pressure to chance or die. So in this weak and degrading species, we have seen absolutely no adaptation, no evolution, they are completely unprepared for life, easily wiped out. For all intents and purposes, they have never evolved past single celled organisms because, hey, why bother? Success, is difficult because it raises the bar, promotes growth.
The entire previous paragraph can be summarized in one sentence; The ultimate function of success (continued positive development) is compromised if the standard of success is reduced. Right? Now, let’s go a little deeper, into the perception of success. Let’s look at how we understand success, the very concept. There is an inherent presence of adversity in our idea of success. One may only be considered good at a given thing if there is difficulty involved. For instance, I have never heard someone comment on how good another is at walking. The phrase, “He certainly is a great breather” is rarely, if ever, spoken. I sincerely doubt that, somewhere out there sits a résumé which reads, accomplished sleeper. The reason being that these are seen as simple tasks, if the majority of the population can do something, the ability to do it is not considered success. Therefore, triumph over adversity in a particular discipline, is not only necessary to the functionality of success, but the very existence of success is dependant upon it.
To finally meander up to my point, those successful people are often very deserving of our high regard. Celebrity is a very logical collateral effect of excellence. And this is what really irks me, Hollywood royalty, rather, how the public feeds into this cheap, hollow type of celebrity. Blame doesn’t fall solely on the public; the media is just as guilty. The entertainment media, often even the so-called “news”, is flooded with stories about Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. Up to the minute coverage of Anna Nicole Smith’s death, or even more preposterous, the death of her son, fills the airwaves. We don’t appreciate the performance given by Tom Cruise in “Rain Man” or “Risky Business”. We care about his wacky marriage, his social life! We wallow in this cultural filth like sadistic pigs. What has Paris Hilton done to earn celebrity? Come on, you can think of something. Well, even if you can’t, I can think of one thing, just one, her claim to fame, the infamous video. At the severe risk of editorializing, I’ve seen it, it’s not great. Hell, it’s not even good by homemade porn standards. It’s not difficult, it’s not unique, and it is certainly no example of excellence. Paris Hilton was given celebrity for free. Nicole Richie is another, I can’t even think of one insignificant thing she did to become famous. At least people like Tom Cruise, Brittany Spears, and Mel Gibson have done something to reach their respective status.
My question, or complaint, (I haven’t decided yet) is this; Why do we offer our attention so blindly to these under-qualified people? Why are we interested in the personal lives of people with public professions? Does it bother me that Tank Johnson had guns in his house? No more than it would if it were Bill, the accountant. Have we lost so much of our appreciation of the world that we strive to find out how Michael Jackson is raising his children? If we focused the time spent criticizing Mel Gibson for public drunkenness on appreciating his movies, we just might have to think critically for a moment, exercise our atrophied brains trying to understand the philosophical implications of “Lethal Weapon” (of they’re there, people). Our standards are so low that we have people who are famous simply for the sake of fame; we dump heaps of attention on people who have no discernable art. We dump similar attention onto the irrelevant actions of those who do. The media feeds us this tripe, and we gorge ourselves on it, as we are known to do.
I believe this phenomenon is a sign of things to come. This is a symptom of a disease that we have, a serious problem that we face, a degradation of our society. William Shakespeare, author of some of the greatest plays ever written, once wrote a play called Titus Andronicus. It was a gory mess filled with blood, death, war, but had much to be desired on the story end. It was little more than spectacle. Shakespeare saw the potential for this intellectual corruptibility, and that it was addictive like a drug. He knew, as nearly everybody in entertainment or marketing knows today, that trumped up, melodramatic, spectacle plays well with the public. So he sold it, they do now, and it was successful, as it is now, but at what cost? The only restraint previously was a sense of cultural dignity, which I believe to be long gone. We need to take action, not war-like action, not legislation, individual action. Read (a book!), watch movies (the type where lines of dialogue out number explosions), listen to music (it’s all good), turn off the T.V. We are facing and intellectual collapse, and a gossip based media is only a sign of much worse things….If we don’t do something.

I really should pay closer attention

Ha! I certainly have a knack for making myself look stupid. Now, in my defense, occasional is a difficult word to spell. No, I just messed up, and didn't have the presence of mind to spell check before I hit enter. I noticed and corrected the mistake everywhere I could, but look at the url, go ahead, look. Yup, there it is, plain as day, a word vaguely resembling occasional. I dropped the ball, let's all laugh at me. You had better take the opportunity now, because after this, I won't tolerate it anymore. Ha, hahaha, Ha-ha. Now everyone shut up!

Ah, musings.

This blog will have no agenda. It will have no overall cohesive theme. It will not be organized. It is, quite simply, place for me to ramble when the mood strikes. I write here for your reading pleasure, so sit back, relax, and enjoy.

It seems to portend a dim future that my first post would about someone else's art, but I just can't keep it in. I recently had the distinct pleasure of attending a performance of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. I have been a fan of the novel since I was a child, and the Universal adaptation with Karloff is Hollywood horror at it's best. This production was Frankenstein like I've never seen it. It was shocking and physical. It was dark and engaging. It was masterfully played and absolutely hilarious. The troupe, performing this piece, is called 500 Clowns (despite there being only three of them). The name is deceptive, to a modern American audience. These are not the Barnum and Bailey type of clowns that we are used to. The clowns of which I speak are distant predocessors to today's circus clowns, with a more European flavor. A little less costume, a little less silly, definately not as kid friendly. In this portrayal of the classic story we have actors playing characters, playing characters. At no point are the characters not aware of the fact that they are putting on a show. An austere, best described as, children who appear as adults trying to perform a play (as adults), provides an endearing quality.
We are told that our actors are named Bruce, Shank, and Kevin. Bruce assumes the role of the oldest clown, bossing the others around while completely inept himself. He is a hilarious commentary on the culture of middle management. Bruce maintains the qualities of the Moe Howards of comedy, self confident and pushy. The others, to comic ends, are too stupid or unsure of themselves, that they just listen to him. Kevin, an unimposing young woman, provides comic relief with all the sublety of a hurricane. She appears to be the smartest of the three. Kevin both disregards her assigned position in the play and has the wit necessary to hold it all together. The perpetual attention hog, as is common to children, she keeps up the pace from beginning to end. Then there is Shank. Shank is the, hands down, star of the show. Brilliantly costumed, Shank is a loveable peon. He's the muscle, the loyal servant, the stupid whipping boy, the most genuinely relatable character of the trio.
Five minutes before the show starts, the show starts. 500 Clowns offers a generous dose of audience involvement, making us laugh with them as well as at them. I cannot stress enough, this is physical comedy at it's peak. A heap of bumbleing is brilliantly topped with excessive over complication. By this I mean, when a character attempts a task (in good clown fashion) the character will try the most indirect method possible, resulting in situations and stunts which induce spontaneous applause repeatedly. Some of the bits are nothing short of genius, often very dangerous.
The story itself is completely ignored. For an hour I laughed and watched with childish glee, suddenly, I realized, "This isn't Frankenstein". Until then, they had done little except introduce cast and mention the name of the novel. Like a bolt of lightening, there it was, the entire story unfolds in moments, so fast I almost didn't notice. Masterfully performed, they seem less clowns than classically trained thespians. I felt it, I believed it, I actually avoided making eye contact with the monster; he was so angry. The room feel still and quiet, we were engaged, nothing else existed. They effortlessly inject final moments of laughter, uncomfortable, but sincere. Then it ends...all too soon.

500 Clowns is performing Frankenstein and Macbeth at the Steppenwolf Theater in Chicago. It is more than worth the ticket price.