Works of Art. From me...To you

From the micro to the macro world, my artistic creations are here for us to discuss, take in and enjoy.
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Why I Didn't Celebrate the Death of Osama Bin Laden

The Daily Show with Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Big Deady
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full EpisodesPolitical Humor & Satire BlogThe Daily Show on Facebook

Hello Fellow Seekers of Truth and Life,

One year ago, we got some big news. I think you remember what happened. On Sunday night, May 1, 2011, we found out that Navy SEALs had raided a compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan (30 miles north of Islamabad, like the Pakistani version of Manassas, Virginia), and shot Osama Bin Laden dead. I found out about it from Facebook comments from people. I didn't believe it at first, because you hear all sorts of things on the internet, but then we turned on CBS, and there was Obama, delivering the following announcement.



When I heard this, I felt all sorts of conflicting, excited emotions. There was the amazing revelation that something I didn't think could ever happen, just happened. The main conflict was between two feelings, the first was a grim satisfaction that We got him. That was my main feeling, that I hate it when the criminals get away. I believe people need to pay for their crimes. I really wanted him to pay for what he did to all those people, all their families, all their friends, coworkers, and all the people who cared about them.

All of them had a huge, horrific whole ripped in their lives that Tuesday morning in the late Summer of 2001. At least all those terrified people who jumped out of the 87th Floor of that building to their deaths, or the people on the planes who made teary last calls to their families, or employees who burned to death in the Pentagon, will not be left behind as a "cold case."

On the other hand, though, I just cannot bring myself to celebrate death, in any way, shape, or form. You might think that's a sappy way to go, but, quite frankly, I am done giving a damn. I used to take a lot of pleasure in the thought of hitting back at someone who wronged me, even if it was only a wrong to me, but I could never stand the sight of someone suffering. It's something that seeps into my consciousness, and I feel this need to make it stop. Thus, when I was about 14 or 15, I decided that hatred was an addiction that I needed to swear off. Ever since, any celebration of death has bothered me deeply. Let me backtrack, though, and talk about how I got to where I am on this issue.

I remember the morning of that September 11 very clearly still. I remember having breakfast, I was having Lucky Charms, my favorite cereal, as an 11-year-old kid, and my Mom told me a plane crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. I assumed it must have been an accident, it must have been cloudy. Mom told me it was a terrorist attack. She said it pretty straightforwardly, without much apparent surprise. When I went to school, I was still a little freaked out by my new setting. I had not been in middle school for a week, even, I had just started the previous Wednesday, and when everyone in class started talking about it, I realized what had gone on.

What I remember most, is hearing the teacher talking about the kind of planes that crashed into the towers. "These were big planes," she said. I found out later that these were not light propeller-driven planes, but huge passenger jets, 757-s and 767-s, both of which are massive. You have to understand that back then, I was a huge aviation geek. I loved machines that flew, and I was especially in awe of those passenger jets we often jump on and take for granted. I must have been one of the few people that got excited to get on a plane. It seemed like such a freeing thing to me.

An example of a drawing of jets that I often do. I have done so many of these it's not even funny.

It seemed bizarre to me that such beautiful, amazing machines could be used for such a terrible, destructive purpose. I spent the whole day not getting what went on, and wanting to get what it was that affected everybody that day. I remember getting scared about it that day when my new P.E. teacher was ostracizing us for talking too much. It was just a confusing day, all in all. After I got back from school, we were staring at the TV news ceaselessly, blankly trying to figure out what this was all about. My Dad finally turned it off and said "It's really easy to just veg out and watch TV, but let's not." Probably a good idea, in retrospect. However, in the dark days, weeks, months and the following year, TV coverage like this was something I saw regularly.



By the way, the point of the above segment was the speech from Donald Rumsfeld. His speech also included a line to the effect of "If anyone says this is an attack on the Afghan people, they're wrong." I remember being so thrilled about the speech, and that the US was bombing Afghanistan. After all, those guys had killed our people, we had to go get 'em. That gets to the central journey I have made, lo these 10-plus years since that day at the end of Summer.

I was a really patriotic kid back then, if only because of my goody-two-shoes nature. Still, I really wanted to get the people that did it. I was an 11-year-old boy, I wasn't about to take an attack from some foreigner lying down. I knew that the bad guys were a group called Al-qaeda (I heard it pronounced "Al Kita" which added another level of bizarreness to it), and the main villain was a guy in Afghanistan named Osama Bin Laden, who was the ringleader of another group called the Taliban. As unclear as I was on who these guys were and what their problem was, I knew we needed to take them out.

At the same time, when my Dad told me we were now at war, I got scared, because I got this image of old-school, nuclear war-type scenarios. Even then, I knew that war meant you could get hurt, you could be killed, and so could your whole family. I got anxious then, as I often did when unexpected things happened to me in my youth.

At about this time, I began to learn about a group of religious people called the Muslims. In the months after 9/11, I heard people talk about "Muslim-this," and "Islamic-that," but I had no idea what any of it referred to. In the 7th grade, our teacher took us through the world's religions. She told us that around 600 AD, a man named Muhammad (I've never figured out how to properly spell this name, forgive me) traveled through the desert in what is today Saudi Arabia, and found a bunch of guys worshipping false idols, and in general, acting quite badly.

Then one day, he went into a cave, and had a vision from God, whom they call Allah, and went forth to spread the word. Muhammad was only a prohpet, a messenger of God's vision. Today, that cave is a Holy Site to all Muslims. There are also five central demands in Islam, called the Five Pillars. They include prayer five times a day, facing the Holy City in Mecca, and at least one trip in believers' lives to said Holy City.

The ubiquitous image of the terrorist we are shown. I did this as a mock-up of a picture you would find on TV news about an international terrorist (hence the made-up foreign intel label in the bottom left). I assure you this was entirely fictionalized, but it does have truth to it, does it not?

I later found out that this religion had drawn a lot of suspicion from people here in the US, and later Europe. Because of religious customs in many Middle Eastern countries, people argue that the religion itself is wrong. I drew the above picture four years ago, to capture the familiar theme we find in the news, of the scary Muslim guy who tried to blow something up. Since the 80's, with the destruction of Flight 103, we've been seeing this picture of Middle Eastern guilt shown to us, over and over again.

This despite the fact that, as I mentioned in my post on terrorism on the 10th Anniversary of Daniel Pearl's death, that the majority of victims of Islamic terrorists are Muslims themselves, including about 2% of the 9/11 victims. All you get in our media is images and stories of the scary Muslims who are gonna blow you up or make your country adopt Sharia Law, and when everyone on the TV agrees on that, and all your friends and family believe in it, that becomes your reality.

The first time I realized it was after the Iraq War. In the early winter months of 2003, we began to hear talk of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, and "WMD's" weapons of mass destruction. Our government were telling us that we needed to invade now, before the "smoking gun" became a "mushroom cloud." Yet I began to hear a bigger group of people saying that there weren't weapons, there were other ways of dealing with the problem, and we needed to have the UN verify this to be true. I came to find out later that none of this was allowed to happen.

So the orgiastic beginning of this war was dismaying to me, since I was just beginning to discover that war and hurting could be wrong. My country could be wrong. Our country can be responsible for the deaths of families, of children, of people who do not deserve to die. That's never an easy learning experience.

It is only in the months and years that followed September 11th, the USA PATRIOT Act, and the Iraq War, that I have understood what those events truly mean. I have been just as angry at the terrorists from Al-qaeda and all the related networks as I have been at US Government officials, upon discovering their deceit, and callous disregard for people's very lives. Not only foreigners, these people don't give a damn about protecting us from anything. It is this kind of anger and despair about the world that has propelled me into meditation on this condition of getting shafted called the human condition.

For years, I felt a lot of anger about the world, about all the pain, unfairness, and loneliness I felt as if it were my own experience. I didn't even have the words to say what it was, accurately, much less the will to discuss it with anyone. As much anger as I felt, I felt it all because there was so little connection of people to each other. They were all in their own tunnel world, thinking about themselves, their cliques of friends, race, family, nation, economic status, and religion.

A dark voice inside me whispered, This is human nature, this is how it is, it is part of you, join it, give in. I was not going to give up, I was not going to be just another stooge to power, to nation, to religion, to Groupthink, as George Orwell termed it. I was going to defeat the dark part of my nature, while everyone else gave in to it in the form of supporting wars, killing in other countries, and all.

So why did I not celebrate the death of Osama Bin Laden? Well, because I just don't celebrate death, even if it is the death of a scumbag. Don't get me wrong, what Bin Laden did, not only on 9/11, but in running this collection of bad, bad people in Al-qaeda, and in his Holy War in the US, which included attacking our Embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998, and our ship in Yemen in 2000, personified what evil means. To me, evil is not about a person, it is about what they do, and how they do it. Bin Laden conducted the killing of human beings with cool, steely composure, and pleasure in his work, the terrible deaths of people.

Yet, what were we doing the night he was killed? Celebrating like rowdy fraternity brothers, celebrating death. Where does that leave us? Everybody I heard in the news expressed sheer delight that he had died. Even Elie Wiesel, who received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986, said that the death was well-deserved. Rudy Giuliani implied that if you aren't feeling a little gleeful, you're in denial. All they tell you is that it's human nature to take glee in the enemy's death, as if that's all human nature is: barbarism and vengeance. Even Jon Stewart, whom I usually like and admire, joined in the antics.

The Daily Show with Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
To Kill a Mockingturd
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full EpisodesPolitical Humor & Satire BlogThe Daily Show on Facebook



What is even worse than him ridiculing the notion that maybe we shouldn't be having an orgy over this event, that maybe it was ambivalent, is his phallic implication at the end, there. That boils down to what most international conflict is about. Listen to a bit of George Carlin's famous Jammin' in New York special from 1992, about the Gulf War that had played out much like this Iraq War did.



You might find this offensive, but I think the point needs to be made that war is about proving who is tougher, who has more might, power or virtue, in other words, whose masculinity is more potent(because, at the risk of making a feminist statement, it is mainly men who are part of wars, but I digress). That's why I believe wars, killing, and hatred are not only destructive, but ultimately futile. After all, sooner or later, you will no longer be able to win power struggles consistently.

Ultimately, these assassinations are more symbolic than anything else. To Al-qaeda, the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon were symbolic of America's power. That's the main reason the terrorists chose to crash planes into them, because they had been trying to attack civilian jet liners for a long time, and several members of Al-qaeda's planning team were showing interest in the Twin Towers as potential targets. To us, here in the US, Bin Laden became the big bad guy. He was the symbol for all that was evil in this world. So I get why people would celebrate the killing of this terrible mastermind.

However, seeing the huge spectacle of raucous celebrations at this raid made me, just, spiritually ill. You may remember the outrage surrounding the picture of Palestinians celebrating as the planes crashed into the buildings.


I saw a picture similar to this one in the LA Times the day after 9/11. Even at my young age, I was coolheaded enough to realize the paper was probably doing it because they wanted war. A war would be good for their news. Yet it made me boil in rage nonetheless. There is no reason to celebrate death. Period. That's what is so awful about these celebrations. It isn't just that we've learned nothing from the errors of the Middle East, it's also that we would spit in the face of anyone who would tell us different from what we want to hear. Remember the story of the girl who trashed the Martin Luther King quote from my post on MLK Day? That to me was the height of arrogance and a willful, malicious variety of ignorance that is so often our error as a culture.

Oh, and by the way, I feel like I should mention this. Not everybody in Palestine was celebrating that day. Below is a photo from a large group of Palestinian students who held a long, silent vigil for their fellow children lost 5,000 miles away. You can find the link to the story here.


You're not gonna see this in the news. It doesn't fit into the neat little narrative that "sells" in the west. Our news outlets like CNN and the New York Times would be terrified of appearing to be "liberal" or "politically correct." So ironically, in their urge to not be politically correct, they come to serve another type of political correctness.

This goes to show that you do not have to celebrate death. Now, there is a difference, I want to make it clear that I know this. I am not defending Osama Bin Laden, and I am certainly not defending anything he ever did or stood for. What he did was wrong and it was evil, there is no dispute about that here.

However, I find it interesting that no one would listen to what the demands of Al-qaeda and all kinds of people in the Middle East are. That doesn't mean we should grant all the demands, that would be unrealistic and would let them off the hook too much. We need to know what the demands are, so we can decide what to allow, and what to stand firm on. We haven't done any of that, though, we've just insisted "They hate us for our freedom!"

The death of Osama Bin Laden was, for me, more a grim relief than anything else. My thought process was "At least he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore." We could learn from this relief, though, rather than go into an orgy of nationalism and machissmo. We must understand that we cannot accept that our government plays power broker all over the world, and expect that it won't come back to haunt us. This does not mean that we are to blame, however, if we stay silent while our government carries out unethical, undemocratic activities, such as the Iranian Coup of 1953, we are implicitly accepting it as normal.

We need to understand that while we, as individuals, may hold certain ideals, when it comes to our culture, the only thing others see, and judge us on, is our actions. We can't expect to keep our governmental status quo going and get more equitable and just results. We also need to have compassion, both for ourselves, and for other national bodies, even as we hold responsible the appropriate power players, be they heads of state, military leaders, or militants acting outside any national authority. Bottom line, if you commit the crime, you do the time, as Robert DeNiro once said.

This grim justice is not a cause to party. It is a cause for a more reflective relief. I believe we should be glad that at the very least, these horrible crimes were answered for. This does not mean that all terrorism has ended. We like to believe that once we "get" the main bad guy, all is won, but remember, this is the "War on Terror," which, by the way, you can't permanently win.

What you can do is root out the desperation and sense of wrong that makes terrorism seem so necessary for the peasants of Afghanistan, Yemen, and so forth. It was rich Saudis that funded Al-qaeda, whom the Taliban gave safe haven. From that, all sorts of people along that barren stretch of land on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border supported the terrorist network. The good news is that Al-qaeda is now on the run, and they are having less and less credibility throughout the Middle East and elsewhere.

The even better news is that most of the people on Earth are not sociopaths at their core. We realize, on some level, that pain is bad. From that starting point, let us learn now that it will not work to simply pin all of the evil in the world onto one man or group, sacrifice them, and believe evil has been purged. This can just as easily pinned on the righteous as it can be on the wicked. Rather, we must realize that there is a part in all of us, from the best to the worst human beings, that urges us to destroy, and to take glee in that destruction.

Often, when we pin evil on someone, putting all that urge to destroy on them becomes more natural, more just. We must face that part of ourselves and say "I don't need that high. I don't need the glee in destruction, even in the truly wicked." After all, working on this projection of our destructive will toward the "evil ones" is what allowed Bin Laden and sociopaths like him to recruit, train, and facilitate real evil. We can step out of that cycle.

Well, I'm sorry this post ended up taking so long, but like I said, I had a lot of contradictory emotions going on when this happened a year ago. I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to feel about it. Venting on my knowledge, and my experience over the years has really helped clarify my aim here. As I was typing, all sorts of memories were coming back that I felt I needed to share with you. I feel this perspective was underrepresented in this story, and needed to be shared. Anyway, if you have any thoughts, feelings, comments, or anything on this you would like to share, please feel free.

I included this post on this blog because I believe our artistic experience can help us see the world in ways we may not have before. I hope that discussion on this helps bring a creative, innovative energy out into the world. I'll have some more good stuff for you soon. Thanks for listening.

See ya!

Friday, February 10, 2012

First Impressions

Hi there,

The following story comes from something that happened to me once. I can still remember it clearly, and it marked a significant turning point in my social life. After I tell it to you, I will explain the backstory behind it, and why I brought it up. So here goes.

I was sitting in the second row, close to the stage, waiting apprehensively. I was listening to Jessica, the girl on stage, playing her guitar, and singing with a big vocal range. She was using the full sound on the guitar, and her voice really flowed up and down gracefully.

Oh, wonderful! I thought. You mean I have to follow that? With my little comedy act? I was waiting to present my passionate interest to the class. This was the second week of my second Fundamentals of Acting semester. The day earlier, I had an idea to share some of the impressions I did with my brother as my passionate interest. My older brother and I use a lot of impressions and obscure references when talking, which almost makes our communication a dialect unto itself.

When I asked Anna, the course instructor here, if that would be a good idea. She said it would be really interesting to see me do them. Later that day, when reviewing which of my "characters" that I wanted to bring out here, I got this huge smile, thinking about the riffs Drew and I had gone on with various different personalities. I thought of our riffs on Jack Nicholson from A Few Good Men, and my uncle from back east, whom I told you about a few weeks ago. Today, as it would be my turn next to share these impersonations for the first time, I was getting those nervous feelings.

Then Jessica's guitar number wound up, and we applauded, calling our approval of her singing and instrumental skills. Lots of the people in the class had musical skills. Now it was my turn to show my observational and humor skills. As Anna called for me to get on the stage at the front of class, I got that nervousness in my throat. My nerves were starting to go, and my heart was racing.

I stood up at the front of the class, waiting for everyone to quiet down. "Well, this passionate interest is from something my brother and I like to do," I began. "We have all these inside jokes we like to do with each other."

Anna asked if my brother, Drew, was older or younger than me. I told her that it's just Drew and I, and he's the older one. "Now, I can imitate lots of celebrities, actors, political figures, and so forth, pretty accurately. I can't do everybody, but I'll let you know, upfront, if there's somebody that I can't do."

My legs were actually starting to shake now. I compare speaking in public and acting on stage to jumping off a tall diving board. When you're standing up on top of the tower, it looks really scary, but when you jump, and begin falling toward the pool, the fear dissipates. You are just moving, swinging your body and getting ready to go in the water. I had just jumped, and now the fear was blowing up like a firework.

The people in the class were asking me who I could imitate. Benji, one of the guys in the audience, asked me if I could channel Sarah, the instructor we had the previous semester. I paused for a moment, wondering if it was okay to do a caricature of a person I liked. I didn't know if it was disrespectful, or a putdown, to do this. Finally I just dove into it.

"Se, I don't really believe you were laughing at that!" I started off, playing on her energetic pace and motions," You were showing me you were laughing, but you weren't really doing it. You know?" I chuckled a little, as Sarah would do when she said that. This was always how she started off telling us to go deeper into our actions. "You just gotta...fuckin'...go in there and laugh your ass off...like this." Then I threw my head back and laughed with my whole body, much as she would have done to show us. The whole class was laughing by now.

"My brother and I like to go off on all these tangents," I went on, "Like we have all these lines and actors we riff on. Like one time, up in LA, we saw this flag for Google,  and we went on this tear about how Google was taking over the world. So we went off on this Jack Nicholson speech from A Few Good Men. So we said," I began my impression of Jack Nicholson's facial ticks, with the eyebrows and forehead, and the authoritative delivery as the bad-ass Colonel in that movie. Watch the speech below here.



"Yes, God Bless Google, son! I have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to someone who lives his life under the auspices of the knowledge that I provide, and then questions the way in which I provide it! I would rather you just said thank you and moved along!" I then went further with the "God Bless Google" line of thought, and added this thought I had recently to it. "So when you say your little prayers tonight as you tuck yourself in, you just thank Google for enlightening your SORRY ASS!"

"You do a mean Jack Nicholson there!" Anna exclaimed to me.

"That's as good as it gets!" I answered, still in voice, and with the impression. This had been the most daunting part of my act here. For me to step into this role as the ultimate authority figure, the ruthless Colonel defending, here, the huge search engine, seemed like the most daring place to inhabit for that. Like someplace I didn't belong, but I did it anyway. I switched gears at this point.

"Sometimes, I like to do these impressions of family members of mine. For instance, I have this uncle who owns a farm back east, and he has these games he likes to play with people. He has this gift for finding exactly the, you know, button you push, and it drives you nuts, and he pushes it again and again. Particularly, if we're all eating dinner, he'll say," Now I imitated his low, grumbly voice, "What's the most embarassing thing you've ever done without telling anyone? Starting with you, Caterina." I pointed at Caterina, the girl in class with whom I'd worked on our final scene the previous semester. She was flustered "What, me?" she seemed to be saying.

"That's just an example of the kinds of things he likes to do. And then he has this very unique laugh, it sounds kind of like this. HA HA HA HA!" I mirrored his distinct laugh, which has a loud quality to it, and sounds almost like a repeated quack. People in class asked me to do it again for them."You know that part at the end of the Michael Jackson song, Thriller? Where he says "No mere mortal can escape the evil of the thriller?" and then he cackles? That reminds of how he laughs." Then I did an impression of him saying to us, "No mere mortal can escape the evil of the thriller, Drew! HA HA HA HA HA!" That got another big laugh from the class. People were asking me to do more imitations, but Anna warned them not to ask me to do too many, at the risk of mocking others, perhaps in the audience. I had shown my passionate interest by now.

I can still remember that clearly in my mind. That happened just over a year ago now. It was my first year of studying acting at this university I go to. It was one of the first times that I got on stage, and got involved with something I was excited about. Back then I was not used to doing it. Since, I have started applying that philosophy of exploring the impulses and images that excite me. Back then, I viewed the role that I was stepping into as being so far away from me, that doing it felt like it didn't fit. Still, there was something that made it worth doing. It was just too fun a challenge not to take on. I went up there and showed it, though I was nervous. I was getting the sweaty palms, quick heart rate, I could feel my knees shake at one point, as I said.

Back then, I wasn't used to showing this to people. I had only done it in short bursts with my brother. However, in the year since, I have gotten more creative in what I show, what I talk about, how I talk about it, what I explore creatively. I have habitually begun to go after the impulse, the thing that excites me, to show what I am thinking and feeling. When I do this, it really changes the way I go through life.

So have any of you had an experience like this? Have you ever had a time when you revealed some attribute or talent of yours that people hadn't seen before. Did showing something make your way of life shift? I'd like to hear any responses, because these moments of revelation are what make this blog really come alive. I'll have some more material for you guys up soon.

See ya, and keep wondering, folks!

Sunday, January 8, 2012

One Year Ago Today...













Well, today, we're gonna try something different. My primary focus will not be on one of my works of art, but rather, it will be an exploration of an issue that is currently taking a very bizarre, perilous direction. However, at the same time, there are many signs of hope cropping up in this country. This is about a tragic and all-too-familiar cycle playing out in our society. Now, however, there are things happening now that are subverting that, and now it seems like things actually can change in a meaningful way. I wrote (i.e. actually put pencil to paper) about this last year, and I will copy it closely here. I will make as few edits as I can, because I think that entry contained points that need to be heard here.



Anyway, as you probably know, last January 8, one year ago today (2011), Congressswoman Gabrielle Giffords was holding a saturday-morning rally out front of a Safeway in Tuscon. A crazed gunman fired at Giffords, shooting her in the head and seriously wounding her, and then he sprayed gunfire into the crowd. Six people were killed, and twenty more, including the Congresswoman, were wounded.




Among those killed were a Federal Judge, John Roll, and Christina Taylor Green, a 9-year-old girl born on September 11, 2001, and remembered by those who knew her as a bright and warm girl. That such a wholesome and promising life was cut so short made the tragedy all the more shocking and heartwrenching.



Because this was a Congresswoman that was shot, this had national political implications. When the news media learned of this, the arguing began. The right and the left reacted predictably. The liberals told the conservatives to curb the hateful and violent rhetoric. The conservatives said that it was really the liberals' fault and that they were taking away conservatives' free speech rights.







This photo is truly terrifying, isn't it? It's funny how little things about someone's picture, like his smirk, can really freak you out.



The perpetrator, Jared Lee Loughner, was a student who was not much older than me, interestingly enough. People said he was deranged, and claimed to hear voices. He wsa not overtly associated with any political movement, right or left. Why he chose to target this congresswoman is still largely obscure. His acquaintances claim that he listened to talk radio.



This leads to the central point of this writing. What was the main reason for this horrible event? The lack of civility in our discourse, say the mainstream media and political establishments. We're told that if we only toned down our heated rhetoric, then all our troubles will subside, and episodes like this one, and all the ones that preceded it,will be a bad memory. (I included two other examples of such episodes in the links provided)



My gut feelings collide on this question. While I am a pacifist at heart, and I believe in trying to heal conflicts, I also believe in the power and importance, of truth. This talk of being "civil" sounds to me like repression of the issue, denial, blissful ignorance. These never work as solutions, and often worsen the problem they were set up to solve. How can you "be civil" or "tone down your rhetoric" if something is seriously wrong, and the society you live in is being actively undermined by those who claim to lead it?



What this shooting has done, other than provide yet another instance of a mentally unstable young man venting his rage in a horrifically violent way, is to reveal just how much our national sociopolitical culture has corroded. In America today, there is this sense that those in power are there, not because of our consent, but because they were slated to be there by some invisible entity. It is as if they live in a different universe than the rest of us. They do not have to live by the same laws as us, and they are far removed from the hardships and penalties most of us have to face.



This sense has been mounting for a long time, and there are many reasons, some contradictory, that people cite this growing sentiment. People on both the right and the left feel collectively betrayed by their leaders. There is a growing sense that society will soon collapse and, given this urgency, people are looking for villains to fight and heroes to rally around. But as the situation gets more desperate, the tactics for creating this get more exaggerated and , yes, violent.



In sociology, a few years ago, I learned about the Soviet Union and the reasons it collapsed. The one that stuck with me was the feeling of illegitimacy that pervaded there in its final years. The Russians no longer believed their society was legitimate, since those running it consisted of the same cabal that had always been in charge. No one believed the propaganda they were told. Add to that a chronically weak economy, and a war machine that was bleeding the country dry, and the weakened Soviet Union easily collapsed. Of course, the Nazi Regime in Germany rose to power so quickly for the opposite reason.



But what does all this have to do with our political landscape, or the shooting in Tucson, Arizona? Well, these crises I just mentioned are things that won't be solved simply by "being civil." These feelings highlight a clear distinction between the "anointed ones" and the "others" when it comes to class.



If you're in the "anointed" class, the world is yours, and you get access to all the resources you need. If not, you better work hard, you better play by the rules we set for you. And don't even think of asking for any extra help staying afloat; that would be socialism, that would be class warfare.



Never mind that the government so reviled often works to keep afloat these titans of our economy, in the financial and energy sectors, especially. Look all around you. Look at where this country has gone. A small class of hedge fund managers, financial speculators, and energy barons, as well as military hardware designers, run a revolving-door corridor between the government and the "private sector." (Listen to this report on campaign contributions' effect on the Helath Care Reform campaign of 2009)



Legions of lobbyists nationwide ensure, with increasing frequency, that laws will favor these enterprises. When the economy goes into a nosedive,the first thing the government does is rush to save these structures, not the workers in the lower offices who are in danger of economic drowning. And there will be no real repercussions for them.



Meanwhile, the National Security State ensures, again, with increasing frequency, that the "other" classes, me, and probably you, too, aren't doing anything suspicious, especially that we are not dissenting against this in any way, in speech or action (see here for just one example).



Then, when someone's frustration boils over, the media is all too ready to provide a scapegoat. The Right media is more explicit about this; they blame the lower classes, other political wings, religions, homosexuals, even other races, although this last part is mostly implied blame. The Left is more clear about what is actually going on, but it is incomplete in its view of the solutions. Its ranks have become fractured, more interested in positioning themselves than the truth and the common good. And then there's the neoliberal wing, which calls for "civility" (also think "bipartisanship").



Usually these calls surface when said rage bolis over, and a catastrophic episode like the one in Tucson unfolds. When this division is at risk of being discovered, called into question, this is when the media and politicians call for civility. Do you see how these things work to cover up this reality?



But, as I said before, it is in my nature to see such bitter conflicts healed. Paul Jay of the Real News, a Canadian Independent news channel, covered this episode a few days after the shooting with as much depth and accuracy as anyone in the media. The report he did on it is at the top of this post. That is why the content of this post follows his lead so closely.



Now, the one thing I would like you to take away from it, and the primary reason I put it on the post, is this, the point at the end that he made is one that few other media did. We might create a civility that, rather than papering over this ugly reality, shines a light more effectively, and intensely, on it. This would cunteract the interests of those in the media, who are there to find the diversion, or catastrophe, of the week. They're in entertainment, so it's their job to find a bad guy, sell a fight, and then a happy ending. They give us the points and the "code words" (freedom, liberty, equality, what have you), and then tell us which parts of the issue to think about, and how to think about it.



This new civility could break down the traditional battle lines of political grouping, race, religion,or even class. The new question may be, are you working for the good of the country, or are you only there for your own good? This will harness the people's distress towards the ungodly alliance of "Big Government" and the top industrial and wealthy class. Then we would no longer be calling each other "racists," "bigots" and all the rest, but with truth, realize that we are all in the same boat out here. We're all flawed people. And, with the light of honesty, those prejudices can be seen, and addressed.



We would not simply have to choose the neoconservative wing of the top classes, or the neoliberal one. The world will see which entities are really "of, by, for the people" and which were set up by this state-corporate axis. The shadowy, rich enterprises which seem to have preordained our leaders, much like a WWF wrestling match, could then find theri grip slipping.



Addressing the causes of this episode itself, it is long past time to do something about the easy availability of such dangerous firearms, even sans background check. There need to be better, more efficient ways to detect, and head off, mental disorders that could turn deadly to others and the host.



A few months ago, I was in a restaurant down in Orange County, with my Dad, and a random lady started shouting about nothing in particular. The waitress told us, in what I thought was an oddly cheery and cavalier way, that she was homeless and schizophrenic, and that she often yelled at and hit customers with a cane. The police even knew her well, by name.



I thought, Will this be the new normal? Where homeless drifters yell at, and assault, random passersby? I hope this isn't what we will see more of. Not just so that Christina Taylor Green and the other five didn't die for no reason, but so that there won't have to be a mounting tally of Christina Taylor Greens before we decide to address these systemic issues. Then we can get just oen step closer to that world I, and maybe you, dream of.



Well, what do you think? Is it worth doing these entries that focus on writing and observations, rather than my artworks? Now, this is based on something I wrote down, as an essay to myself, so I consider it part of my artistic repertoire. I will focus on the artistic and creative projects I design in this blog, but these long, essay-type posts will serve to get my thoughts out, and go after tough subjects, large and small, in a way that invites you and I to bond, rather than divide, us. I hope they will get you thinking in a different way.



This is political, but it is different than most political-themed blog posts you are likely to find. This blog will touch on political, religious and societal themes, but it will take a different approach. In my previous political explorations, I sought to solve the problems of the world. I still hope to have a part in doing that, but now I am just offering insights as I believe they should be said.



My aim is not to solve all the problems. Instead, I humbly aim to shift what is possible. When you shift what is possible, you make room for all kinds of uniting of you with me, with people in this world, with the world itself. That is a large plank of what my artistic works are about, and that is what I hope to begin on this blog. What about you? Do you think there's something to what I am saying? Let me know on the comment box below, and don't forget to follow this blog. I cannot say this enough times. See ya soon and keep wondering, folks!

Sunday, January 1, 2012

2011: The Year of Living Creatively


Hi there,

Well, I know Christmas is past, and it's January now, but I thought I'd show you this anyway. I started this the night of Christmas, and it took me a while to color. I was out of town, and more importantly, away from my laptop, for the past week. I just got back into town yesterday, and I went out to Downtown Long Beach last night, so I haven't have time to blog since then. So here I am to cap off my blogging from 2011.

I started this off as a christmas memory, but it is also a reminder of the feeling of being in church. The feeling is an important theme in my creative work here. I like to create, in the viewer's eyes, the feeling of being somewhere. In this case, it was the feeling of being in a small, cozy church sanctuary on Christmas Eve. In this one, I used more dark tones. I also showed the lights coming down from the ceiling, and from the tree in the corner. The points of light are what give it that cozy feeling.

You know what I mean? Have you ever been in a church, or a house, or anything, at night? It's dark, but the little sources of light or warmth (this goes for cold and warmth, too) make you feel really warm, and secure inside. We all have our little places that we like to go to for this feeling. For some people, this would be a church, for others, it would be a restaurant, or a city, or a club or gathering. People are either given, or find, these places that give them a sense of comfort, constancy, meaning, and well-being. For many people, this is the function of a church, synagogue, mosque or temple. It is social, as well as religious.





The photo above is of the church that I used to go to when I was little, where I went on Christmas Day, as I explained last week. As I grew up, the church and I grew apart. Now, I am largely ambivalent about church, but I still believe that people who are religious can have good motivations. For instance, the ministers at this church run a number of after-school programs, since this is an inner-city church. I did volunteer work for them for four years, as at my high school, 40 hours of community service was a requirement for graduation. The kids who go to this church are often from poor families. They didn't have good educational resources back then (2005 to 2009, a few years ago), so the organization, which my Mom and I worked for, helped them with schoolwork and learning. So this drawing was partially based on this church that I used to attend regularly. I still attend, albeit less often.

I did this from an image I saw in my mind when I thought of going to church. I have been using impulse images more in my work lately than I used to. This year, 2011, I have devoted more attention to my drawing technique. I decided to use my first mental images more in my work. I'd try to think of something, look at what came to my mind, and record that. I used to want to plan out the right way to represent some image. I still do that sometimes, however, now, I am using a much rougher style. The big development of this year is I am branching out.

I said to my friends, It will be sad that 2011 has to be over. This was a good year, overall. In 2010, it seemed like all the news was bad. In 2011, it was about an even split between bad and good news. It was also a big year for my artistic endeavors. I got the idea to do this blog, putting my works up on it. I had to put it on the shelf for a while, then I finally got it up and running on December 16. The end of a landmark year, the beginning of a unique blog.

Well, what I can say is I have many good entries on their way in the year that has just opened, 2012. I will have some more good material up for you soon. Until then , see ya, and keep wondering, folks! I think that will be this new blog's sign-off line.