Tag Archives: Culture

Stories of the Fall

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I started this blog to write about stories, imagination, and spirituality.  Initially, when I spoke of stories, I meant fiction.  I now use the word in the wider sense suggested by James Hillman when he defined psychology as, “the study of the stories of the soul.”  I also use “stories” as Professor of Religion, David Loy, did in his book The World is Made of Stories, a meditation on the worldwide intuition that what we normally see is not “reality” but our stories about reality.

Right now, stories of money and its lack weigh on everyone’s mind. I have my own stories of recent events that I hesitated to share until yesterday, when I saw that Rush Limbaugh accused the president of, “engineering the decline of the American Republic.”  http://awareamerican.wordpress.com/2011/08/09/limbaugh-on-market-collapse-obama-engineering-the-decline-of-america/.  I decided that since it’s Amateur Hour, I might as well weigh in.  Here’s my story of why the United States and Europe find themselves in such a colossal mess:

***

We are still in the early stages of globalization, but no one seems to remember that.  Limbaugh should blame Al Gore for inventing the internet, the steam engine of our current post-industrial revolution.  The changes are going to take as long, be at least as sweeping, and at least as traumatic as those of the first Industrial Revolution.  Here are a few key events:

1)  NAFTA:  The North American Free Trade Agreement, which went into effect on Jan. 1, 1994, marked the beginning of the end of blue collar work as a viable means of livelihood for large numbers of people in this country.

NAFTA protest

2) Offshoring White Collar Jobs:  This picked up in earnest in the late 90’s, as the internet made it feasible to hire large numbers of skilled foreign professionals for a fraction of the cost of their US counterparts.  I remember lots of phone conferences at the end of the day with engineers in Asia who would sometimes have solutions in our inbox in the morning.

The Y2K scare delayed the effects of sending thousands of tech jobs overseas, but once it was clear that the world was not going to end, the “dot com bust” ended the party for good.  Springsteen’s blue collar lyrics came true for professionals as well:  “Foreman says these jobs are going boys, and they ain’t coming back.”

3)  The Economy on Speed:  Thanks to Alan Greenspan, who held interest rates artificially low, and George Bush, who started two wars, the bust was delayed, but delayed only.  Quite a few people saw it coming:

  •  In 2004, a poster on a Motley Fool bulletin board said, “Soon our biggest industry will be selling each other beanie babies on eBay.”
  • Ca 2004, Warren Buffett called derivatives, “financial weapons of mass destruction.”
  • By 2006, people on all the financial websites were warning that a housing bust was no longer a matter of “if” but only of “when.”  The only thing no one fully realized then was how bad it would be.

Our problem now is not just that housing prices crashed in 2008, but that since the turn of the millennium, housing and consumer spending have been our major industries.

So what comes next?  Here are a few random suggestions and observations, not necessarily in order of importance.

1)  The President should demand to see Rush Limbaugh’s birth certificate.  Evidence suggests he is an alien – and I don’t mean the kind that comes from another part of planet earth:

2) On the Sunday before the debt ceiling resolution, I saw an interview with General Motors CEO, Dan Akerson, that made me hopeful.  Not only has GM paid back the government bailout, but they’ve done so with the introduction of fuel efficient cars.  Akerson articulated our need for independence from foreign oil that politicians since Jimmy Carter have talked about without effect.  Other American auto makers have echoed Akerson’s sentiment.  Now that greener energy is becoming profitable, there there is hope for eventual movement, growth and jobs in that sector.

3)  I’d like to see every Democrat in Washington read this article Julian Zelizer posted on CNN.com, “Where are the Democrat’s Ideas?”  http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/08/08/zelizer.democrats.ideas/index.html?hpt=hp_t1

4)  We all need to look at the situation in Britain as an example of what could happen here if politicians try to balance the budget with only draconian cuts.  It’s time for people who care about the country to name the Flat Earth Party for what it is – an assortment of morons who don’t understand that they live in the 21st century and not in 1776.

5) Vote against any candidate who claims to have “a plan to create jobs” – they are either deluded or lying.  In discussions I’ve heard, usually referencing Japan, the only government action that seems to work is stimulus money applied for the long term, they way you have to use a lot of matches to start a fire with wet wood.   Unfortunately, we’ve exhausted the means and will to do that.

***

If you’ve actually read to the end of my rant, thank you.  It’s no more outlandish than claiming a single man could bring down our Republic all by himself.  To paraphrase Hillary Clinton’s book, it would take a village to do that – a large village, like Washington, DC.

R.I.P. Jerry Garcia, Aug. 1, 1942 – Aug. 9, 1995

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In February, 1961,, when Jerry Garcia was 18 years old, he was a passenger in a car that flew off a curve at 90 mph.  One passenger died and two others were badly injured.  Garcia was thrown into a field and sustained only a broken collarbone.  He later said, “That’s where my life began. Before then I was always living at less than capacity. I was idling. That was the slingshot for the rest of my life. It was like a second chance. Then I got serious”

One thing he got very serious about was music, which he had practiced since early childhood.  Two months after the accident, he met Robert Hunter, a musician and poet who would become the chief lyricist for the Grateful Dead.  The two of them found a local gig and made $5 each, which helped Garcia, who was living out of his car in Palo Alto.

The story I heard was that several other key members of band met in the parking lot of Palo Alto music store in 1965.  They first played as The Warlocks in a Menlo Park pizza parlor.  After learning that another group called The Warlocks had signed a record contract, Jerry Garcia picked the name, Grateful Dead by flipping open a dictionary.  There are several accounts, but according to Phil Lesh, the bass player, the definition was:  the soul of a dead person, or his angel, showing gratitude to someone who, as an act of charity, arranged their burial.

The Skull and Roses logo

For the next thirty years, the Grateful Dead were a cultural and musical phenomenon.  You pretty much loved them or hated them.  Back when Cal Expo was open, half my department at work would show up in their t-shirts and tie dye and take the afternoon off whenever the band came to town.  The other half of my co-workers would shake their heads.  At its best, a Grateful Dead show was a unique and extravagant celebration of life.

In August, 1995, Garcia, who was overweight, diabetic, and exhausted from touring, checked into rehab to detox from heroin.  Sometime in the early morning of August 9, his heart stopped beating.  He was 53 years old.

This is one of my favorite concert clips, for it hints at the joy the musicians could evoke in a crowd.  It’s from the Bill Graham Memorial Concert in Golden Gate Park in November, 1991.

I know the rent is in arrears,
Dog has not been fed in years,
It’s even worse than it appears,
But it’s all right.

Oh well a touch of gray,
Kinda suits you anyway,
That was all I had to say,
And it’s all right.

How Much is Too Much?

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I have to thank Ceinwenn for this topic.  He or she (I can’t be sure, since the link takes me to a password protected forum) commented on my previous post, Three Requirements of a Book Review (?).  Ceinwenn felt I had given away too much plot info in my review of  David Baldacci’s First Family.  It’s entirely possible.  Several comments mentioned avoiding spoilers, something I have not considered as much as I will now.

In my own defense, I would cite the similarities of a synopsis, which you use as a design and advertising tool with your own fiction, and the plot exposition section of a book review.  In a synopsis, you must reveal what happens; you can’t leave an agent or editor guessing.  In a book review you must not.  Got it.  Thanks.

But that wasn’t what I really wanted to talk about here.  Ceinwenn’s comment spun me off thinking of several recent things I’ve said about blogging, and specifically my discovery that the public act of blogging is far more stimulating than the private act of writing in a journal.  The public nature of blogging makes it challenging in terms of deciding how much self-revelation is right.

My wife has commented on my tendency to get too academic and boring, which is an easy path for me to take.  On the other hand, I remember a psych teacher who was Mr. Sensitive-Self-Revelation, and it wasn’t a pretty sight!  A remember a very calm and poised young woman walking out of the class, shaking her head and making barfing noises.

You get what I’m saying.  As a blogger I want to be real and I enjoy the same quality in others, but I’ve used the delete key on posts that went to far.  I might write about an embarrassing moment, especially if there is humor involved, but I’m probably not going to post my most mortifying-ever experience.  You know the one – you’re driving along and it comes to mind and you slink down in your seat in case the nearby drivers can read your mind.

Some topics rouse caution immediately, notably politics and religion.  Mary and I have a couple of long-term friends that are long-term because we learned early on to stay off these topics.  Here on this blog I circle both politics and religion, but I keep more of a distance than I would personally like to.  Still, because I really dislike door to door religion or candidate salespeople, I don’t want to risk using this space to invade anyone’s right to decide for themselves.  Fortunately, tonight I get to quote someone brilliant on a political topic.

I’m traveling.  As a matter of fact, I’m attending a two day intensive teaching session let by a Tibetan Buddhist teacher of international renown (forbidden topic #1).  I got back to my room and flipped on the news just in time to see the President’s message that a compromise is in the works. (forbidden topic #2).  Whew!  No one with their head screwed on right could wish to see our country in default, and yet, the whole situation is icky!  Have you ever gone for a swim in a lake or river that was too full of alge?  You come out feeling slimy.

It’s far to easy to blame someone else, but none of us are innocent in this mess.  We elected these clowns, most of whom are doing what they think we want them to do in order to get re-elected.  It cuts a lot deeper than that, and once I get home, I may quote from an article I found that has a lot to say about this dance of the public and the politicians.

Meanwhile, here is the brilliant comment I promised, from Walt Kelly, creator of the wonderful comic strip, “Pogo.”  This particular panel was printed in 1971, on the occasion of the first Earth Day, but its message took on a life of its own that goes beyond any single issue.  If we could learn one thing from this latest crisis, this would be my vote.  We, as a nation, will not be destroyed from without, goes the common wisdom, often repeated over the last decade – but clearly we can do it to ourselves.

Remember Real Money?

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US Silver Certificate

In 1965, my father, who worked for IBM, was assigned to the south of France for two years, so the family packed up for Europe.  Back then, except for a few parodies in Pink Panther and James Bond movies, Americans in Europe got some respect.  Our money got a whole lot of respect – everyone wanted dollars.

My mother, who was an artist and appreciated fine drawing and engraving, drew the line at most European currencies.  “It looks like play money,” she said.  No wonder!  It was colorful and had big heads!  Real money, like good old yankee greenbacks, was sober and serious – it was monochrome and the heads were decently small.  I laughed the other day at a fast food restaurant.  I handed the clerk a twenty and he held it up to the light.  No one trusts a big-head!

Our coins contained silver through 1965

My father was involved in the early development of magnetic card readers.  I remember his mood of euphoria the day engineers succeeded in programming a “1” and a “0” on a magnetic strip.  He announced that someday none of us would carry money at all.

“That sucks,” I said – my usual answer to my father when I was a teenager.  I thought of him today as I used my iPhone to buy a frappacino and then glanced at the budget headlines as I carried it out the door.

Money has always been abstract:  the great Lakota medicine man, Black Elk, called gold, “the yellow metal that drives men crazy.”  To his people, gold was just a pretty stone in the river – nothing to get excited about.

Now money is virtual as well – I used a pattern of pixels to buy my drink.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have as much power as it ever did – you can’t see or touch the wind, but this year especially, we have seen what it can do.  Still, in some ways, the increasingly non-material nature of money makes it seem all the more open to abuse.  As I understand it, the Fed doesn’t even have to print big-heads to increase the money supply – a few keystrokes will do it.

Standing liberty quarter

In truth, I love the convenience of electronic money.  A decade ago, when I was managing our affairs and my fathers, I had to write out 30-40 checks a month, a task that took a lot of time and was always subject to error, for my mind wanders when it is bored.  One Friday evening I wrote a payee the entire amount of my paycheck.  Luckily, that honest woman called me a few days later and said, “Uh, sir, I think you made a mistake.”

Abstract or not, we use our money for concrete things – a meal, a car, a house, a movie ticket, a new pair of shoes.  One immediately thinks of bartering, but these days, that seem rather strange.  In the last elections, a conservative senate candidate from Nevada suggested people might think of barter if their medical costs were too high.  Her opponents jumped on that statement, and their slogan, “Chickens for checkups” was a factor in her loss.

There is one aspect of money we do not think of often – in some of its forms, it is beautiful.  When I was a kid, I collected coins – just pennies for the most part.  I tended to spend anything bigger on baseball cards.  Now I have come to appreciate the sheer beauty of the two types of coins pictured here:  walking liberty halves, and standing liberty quarters.  These pictures show the amazing quality of the engraving.  Coins in this condition are premium, but fortunately, more heavily circulated specimens can be purchased for just a few dollars.  It’s quite an exercise in imagination to hold a coin that is 80 or 100 years old and wonder about its story.

It’s a lot more fun to think in these terms – of the beauty of money – than it is to think of our headlines or watch politicians on TV.  One thing “those European countries” did when we lived abroad, was periodically throw their governments out.  Even now, some nations hold votes of no confidence, which amount to a mass recall.  I remember feeling superior to that  – our system worked after all.  Now as I look at the big-heads in my wallet  – my mother’s old criterion for funny money – I doubt that I am alone in the fantasy of charging our leaders with high crimes of cluelessness and voting the rascals out.

The Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz

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In 1916, when they met, Alfred Stieglitz was 52, and an internationally known photographer whose avant-garde gallery in Manhattan made him one of the most influential men in early 20th century American art. Georgia O’Keeffe was 28, and an unknown schoolteacher from Texas.  Their professional and personal relationship spanned three decades and is documented in 25,000 pages of correspondence.  The first volume of these letters has just been published as, My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz, Volume I, 1915-1933, edited and annotated by Sarah Greenough.

Georgia O'Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz, 1944

Sarah Greenough discussed this correspondence recently on NPR:  http://www.npr.org/2011/07/21/138467808/stieglitz-and-okeeffe-their-love-and-life-in-letters.  Stieglitz and O’Keeffe were prolific correspondents, sometimes writing two or three letters a day, up to 40 pages long.  These documents “track their relationship from acquaintances to admirers to lovers to man and wife to exasperated — but still together — long-marrieds.”   

The two began living together soon after O’Keeffe moved to New York.  They were married in 1924.  Greenough notes that tensions began to appear between them almost immediately, but the deciding moment in their relationship came in 1929, when O’Keeffe visited New Mexico and discovered the landscape of her soul.  Stieglitz had promoted her work in New York, but in New Mexico, O’Keeffe found the subjects and colors that made her famous.  You cannot really think of her living anywhere else, just as you cannot think of Stieglitz outside of New York.  The two maintained their relationship at a distance, struggling to grow as individuals and as a couple, until Stieglitz’s death in 1946.

"Ram's Head," by Georgia O'Keefe

More is generally known about O’Keeffe than Stieglitz, for her powerful canvases have a distinct 20th century feel, and her life has become emblematic for generations of women struggling to champion their own personal and creative gifts.

"Light Iris" by Georgia O'Keeffe

Stieglitz is not as important to contemporary artists, but his influence on early 20th century American art and especially modern photography cannot be overstated.  He was an early and ardent champion the idea of photography as an art.  Later 20th century masters of the medium – Paul Strand, Edward Weston, Ansel Adams, and Minor White – all made the pilgrimage to New York to seek the “master’s blessing,” and those who won his approval never doubted themselves again.  In her NPR interview, Sarah Greenough notes that Stieglitz was “amazingly egotistical and narcissistic,” but he had the ability to establish “a deep communion with people.”

Stieglitz was also a “hinge” on which the transition to modern photography swung.  Prior to Stieglitz, most people made and saw photographs in terms of their literal subject matter.  Stieglitz used the medium of visible shapes to evoke states of awareness and feeling that move beyond the visible.  He named his efforts, “equivalents,” a term which Minor White later picked up, championed, and made known to subsequent generations of photographers.

No one before Stieglitz had made photographs as evocative of meaning beyond their literal subjects:

"New York Central Yard," by Alfred Stieglitz

Georgia O'Keeffe's Hands by Alfred Stieglitz

Equivalent, 1930, by Alfred Stieglitz

O’Keeffe and Stieglitz met almost 100 years ago, but their relationship seems utterly contemporary, laced as it was with tension between self-expression and commitment to the other.  Even so, their attitude might be summed up by what Minor White reported after his visit to Stieglitz’s gallery.  White wondered if he had what it took to become a serious photographer.

“Have you ever been in love?” Stieglitz asked.  White said he had.

“Then you can photograph,” was the reply.

Disruptive Technologies and the End of Borders.

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In the electronics industry, one of our truisms was that change is the only constant.  We also talked and thought a lot about “disruptive technologies.”  The term was coined by Clayton Christensen in a 1995 article and elaborated in his 1997 book, The Innovator’s Dilemma.  Even well managed firms (and Borders does not seem to have been one of these), can be blindsided by failing to recognize “the next big thing.”  This is because its first manifestations tend to be clunky and crude.

The makers of fine coaches were probably not too worried when the first loud, dirty, and expensive horseless carriages appeared.  The empty factories and smokestacks in Rochester, NY are mute witnesses to Kodak’s failure to recognize the threat that digital photography posed to their chemical business.  Tower Books, which I loved, failed to develop an online presence, and Borders, among other things, was late to the eReader party.

There is no good news in this for anyone, least of all the 11,000 employees who are out of a job.  Or everyone who found wonderful things while browsing the stacks.  Even the idea that disappearing big-box bookstores will give indies a second chance seems unlikely.  One writer interviewed on NPR, whose books are carried by Borders, suggested that future bookstores may resemble what you find in airports:  “cookbooks, vampire novels, and celebrity tell-alls.”  http://www.npr.org/2011/07/19/138499967/mich-book-chain-borders-closing-after-40-years

I remember a college town where a wonderful independent bookstore closed soon after a Borders opened. Now it has come full circle and both are gone.  All I can think of are these words of the late George Harrison: All things must pass.

The Government and the Marx Brothers

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Where's the Seal?

Back in college, one of my professors gave me an idea I’ve never forgotten.  He spoke of myths that shape and inspire our national consciousness, and how they always relate to a past that is not only gone but may not even have happened.  It must have been back in the 70’s, because he referenced the gun-in-the-rack, survivalist twist on the rugged individualism that Bonanza brought into our living rooms once a week.

The Cartwright boys get the job done

I’ve been thinking of myths of politics lately for one simple reason.  In following the current debate in Washington on the debt ceiling, I’ve come to a conclusion I have never reached before, through good times or bad – until now.  Quite simply, I think we are fucked.

Perhaps not over this particular crisis, for I don’t think any politician who wants to get re-elected – all of them, in other words – wants to get stuck with the blame for a national default.  But I think this “debate” reveals how utterly disfunctional our system has become.  Handwringing over the gummint has probably always been a national pastime – I finally believe it is justified.  Still, I prefer laughter and even creative thinking to handwringing, so I have been mulling over what myths I believed about about our leaders in the past, and what might be a better fit now.

Back in the days when my favorite TV show was “Leave it to Beaver,” I watched  Mr. Smith Goes to Washington with my parents: a rugged individualist from Montana takes on the system, and proves that right and integrity still can prevail.

Jimmie Stewart fights the good fight

Soon after I saw Mr. Smith, for a few brief years, we had Kennedy’s Camelot:  “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”   Fast forward six years and there was Kent State and with Crosby, Stills, and Nash singing, “Soldiers are gunning us down.”  It’s been a roller coaster ride since then with ups and downs, times of malaise and times of letting the good times roll, but all along, at least for me, there was the faith that we can make things better.  Our system may be flawed but it works.  There was always someone to believe in, someone like Senator Robert Byrd, a real-life Jimmie Stewart who carried a copy of the Constitution in his pocket.

Sen. Robert Byrd, one of my heroes

Senator Byrd is gone now, and so is my faith that we can right ourselves in time to avoid driving off a cliff.  What kind of myth fits that?  I’ve been mulling it over for several weeks, and it came to me yesterday, thanks to Turner Classic Movies.  They aired my favorite Marx Brothers film, Horse Feathers, and there it was:  my latest take on the current state of our government:

Do you think there’s a kinder way to depict our current crop of elected “servants?”  If so, please let me know!

After Potter

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Of course it is happening in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it isn’t real?  –   Albus Dumbledore

The fact that everyone is weighing in on Harry Potter stands as a tribute to the impact the saga has had on us all.  There’s no doubt the release of the final movie is most poignant for those who grew up with the series; a span of 13 years for the books or 10 for the movies is huge when you are young.  Some of those who picked up The Sorcerer’s Stone in grade school have finished college.

Annie Ropeik, an intern at NPR suggests three adult fantasies for the “Hogwarts Grad.”  She calls one of them, The Magicians by Lev Grossman, a cathartic examination of the nature of magic and our relationship to the stories we wanted to live in as kids — required reading for anyone trying to recover from a lifelong love affair with a fictional world.  http://www.npr.org/2011/07/14/137802346/3-grown-up-books-for-the-hogwarts-grad

Note the language Ropeik uses, especially the word, “recover,” which suggests that a love affair with a fictional world is something we should fight the way someone “in recovery” uses the 12 steps to fight for freedom from an addiction.

I’ve been sensitive to this kind of nuance ever since one of my psychology professors, a colleague of James Hillman and Joseph Campbell, recommended The Neverending Story by Michael Ende with the comment that, “It’s about our culture’s war on imagination.”  Can we graduate from the fictional worlds we have loved and lived in?  Should we even want to?  According to Hillman, our greatest danger is literalism, the mind that is closed to fantasy, or rather, refuses to see the fantasy in all our realities and the reality of our fantasies.

Today may be a day to mourn the end of an era, but it is also a day to celebrate the gifts we have received from Rowling, the young actors, and everyone who worked on the movies.  They have given us an unforgettable world of imagination and dreams where courage and friendship matter, even when the odds are bad, in the struggle of good against evil.