Wednesday, 10 August 2011
Kesey’s Trip in Living Color
Ken Kesey’s cross-country 1964 bus trip with the Merry Pranksters was supposed to be a movie. “The world’s first acid film,” as Tom Wolfe explained, “taken under conditions of total spontaneity barreling through the heartlands of America, recording all now, in the moment.” That’s why the bus was packed not just with LSD, speed and grass, but also speakers, mikes and wires.
But the Pranksters were lousy moviemakers; the footage was chaotic, out of focus and all but impossible to edit. It ended up moldering in rusty cans on Kesey’s Oregon farm. Still, we saw the film another way, by reading “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test,” Mr. Wolfe’s still-dazzling retelling.
And now — hold on — with that merry band long dispersed or dead, the amazing moment has arrived after all. “Magic Trip,” a new documentary by Alex Gibney and Alison Ellwood, rescues the old footage, and Kesey’s vision, through a miracle of digital restoration and editing.
To which we can only say: Whoa! How often does that happen? A book gets its own corroborative video, 40-some years late. The same indelible images, the word made fleshy. Here’s Kesey in his prime, his legendary charisma made obvious. There’s Neal Cassady, hopped-up at the wheel, and, man, he won’t shut up. And there are those other young men and the women they loved, ogled, chased and ignored. There’s Stark Naked at Larry McMurtry’s house, tripping badly. Here’s Generally Famished, pregnant and tired and mostly not acting like an idiot. The whole story of what free love was like for women in the prefeminist ’60s is captured in her weary, wary eyes.
Nearly 50 years on, the film shows why squares in shiny shoes thought the Pranksters were ninnies. It helps explain why the ’60s were necessary, if not always interesting. And it only deepens our admiration for Mr. Wolfe, who married a wild imagination to a writer’s discipline, and got his raw material into shape. In 1968.
@'NYT'
But the Pranksters were lousy moviemakers; the footage was chaotic, out of focus and all but impossible to edit. It ended up moldering in rusty cans on Kesey’s Oregon farm. Still, we saw the film another way, by reading “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test,” Mr. Wolfe’s still-dazzling retelling.
And now — hold on — with that merry band long dispersed or dead, the amazing moment has arrived after all. “Magic Trip,” a new documentary by Alex Gibney and Alison Ellwood, rescues the old footage, and Kesey’s vision, through a miracle of digital restoration and editing.
To which we can only say: Whoa! How often does that happen? A book gets its own corroborative video, 40-some years late. The same indelible images, the word made fleshy. Here’s Kesey in his prime, his legendary charisma made obvious. There’s Neal Cassady, hopped-up at the wheel, and, man, he won’t shut up. And there are those other young men and the women they loved, ogled, chased and ignored. There’s Stark Naked at Larry McMurtry’s house, tripping badly. Here’s Generally Famished, pregnant and tired and mostly not acting like an idiot. The whole story of what free love was like for women in the prefeminist ’60s is captured in her weary, wary eyes.
Nearly 50 years on, the film shows why squares in shiny shoes thought the Pranksters were ninnies. It helps explain why the ’60s were necessary, if not always interesting. And it only deepens our admiration for Mr. Wolfe, who married a wild imagination to a writer’s discipline, and got his raw material into shape. In 1968.
@'NYT'
Film Hitches a Weird Ride on Kesey’s Bus
Kim Salmon: Spare a dollar for the maker, music doesn't play itself
When I began working as a musician in Fremantle some 35 years ago, I earned around $600 per week. I had a regular gig and it was ongoing. Nowadays I'd think myself very lucky to make that sort of wage playing music. It's usually much less. And compared to many musicians, I'm doing very well.
Last year in Melbourne, the city's entire live music industry rallied to get the Victorian government to recognise the industry's cultural and economic contribution to the state.
This town's reputation as the best live music scene in the country was trumpeted proudly throughout the media. Much was made of a loved pub, the Tote, being forced to close as a live music venue thanks to restrictive licensing laws. It became the symbol of the struggle to maintain a vibrant music scene in a heartless environment of profiteers, bureaucrats and dollar-driven decisions.
Thanks, however, to the industry figures and musos who took part in the rally, public awareness of the importance of the industry grew and became something that government would notice. Thanks to the rally, the Tote reopened as a music venue just a few months after its high-profile closure. It was considered a victory for live music in this state.
And, one year after the Tote's historic reopening, what of the musicians who create this live music so cherished by the state? Are they able to get a guaranteed fee for playing in this victorious, symbolic pub?
Err, actually … no.
Why is it that after dedicating my life to playing music, I now earn less than ever?
People like to blame digital technology for the ease of obtaining music free, doing its makers out of their income. Technology will always change things - it is said that some theatre organists committed suicide with the advent of the talkies. Maybe true, sadly, but there are still organists.
I blame attitudes.
''It must be wonderful doing what you love for a living,'' people often say to me.
Or, ''Put yourself in my shoes, I've got a business to run,'' which is a common refrain to working musicians from those who don't want to pay much for their services. The attitude behind this remark is taken as some kind of given and perfectly acceptable.
Well, I am in your shoes, Mr Publican. I've also got a business to run. The business of paying the sound guy, fellow musos, transport, rent. I've walked more than a mile in your shoes and I'm still not where you are.
Another thing I've heard said too many times is ''Why don't you get a real job?'' as if it's too much fun to be a real job.
Others will tell you to treat your music like a hobby and if you get paid for it, that's the icing on the cake. This is a big part of the problem; in my view there are so many people who are prepared to treat it like a hobby, that the professional musician is undermined.
Dodgy preconceptions dog other professions: nurses will work unhealthy shifts for inordinately low wages because they ''have a desire to help the sick''; teachers ''only work during school hours and they get all those holidays'' - students' reports seemingly writing themselves … so they don't need to be paid as much as people from the private sector; CEOs ''are all psychopaths so we have to let them have seven-figure salaries … '' I could go on.
What I'm driving at is that the way certain professions are treated seems to be dictated by entrenched preconceptions. It seems perfectly reasonable to many that music publishers, record labels and publicans have a business to run and should be compensated for their work.
Yesterday, the government released its report into the live music industry's annual economic contribution to the state, which was calculated at more than $500 million.
It is time attitudes changed to more fairly benefit those without whom there would be no music industry - the musicians.
Via
Last year in Melbourne, the city's entire live music industry rallied to get the Victorian government to recognise the industry's cultural and economic contribution to the state.
This town's reputation as the best live music scene in the country was trumpeted proudly throughout the media. Much was made of a loved pub, the Tote, being forced to close as a live music venue thanks to restrictive licensing laws. It became the symbol of the struggle to maintain a vibrant music scene in a heartless environment of profiteers, bureaucrats and dollar-driven decisions.
Thanks, however, to the industry figures and musos who took part in the rally, public awareness of the importance of the industry grew and became something that government would notice. Thanks to the rally, the Tote reopened as a music venue just a few months after its high-profile closure. It was considered a victory for live music in this state.
And, one year after the Tote's historic reopening, what of the musicians who create this live music so cherished by the state? Are they able to get a guaranteed fee for playing in this victorious, symbolic pub?
Err, actually … no.
Why is it that after dedicating my life to playing music, I now earn less than ever?
People like to blame digital technology for the ease of obtaining music free, doing its makers out of their income. Technology will always change things - it is said that some theatre organists committed suicide with the advent of the talkies. Maybe true, sadly, but there are still organists.
I blame attitudes.
''It must be wonderful doing what you love for a living,'' people often say to me.
Or, ''Put yourself in my shoes, I've got a business to run,'' which is a common refrain to working musicians from those who don't want to pay much for their services. The attitude behind this remark is taken as some kind of given and perfectly acceptable.
Well, I am in your shoes, Mr Publican. I've also got a business to run. The business of paying the sound guy, fellow musos, transport, rent. I've walked more than a mile in your shoes and I'm still not where you are.
Another thing I've heard said too many times is ''Why don't you get a real job?'' as if it's too much fun to be a real job.
Others will tell you to treat your music like a hobby and if you get paid for it, that's the icing on the cake. This is a big part of the problem; in my view there are so many people who are prepared to treat it like a hobby, that the professional musician is undermined.
Dodgy preconceptions dog other professions: nurses will work unhealthy shifts for inordinately low wages because they ''have a desire to help the sick''; teachers ''only work during school hours and they get all those holidays'' - students' reports seemingly writing themselves … so they don't need to be paid as much as people from the private sector; CEOs ''are all psychopaths so we have to let them have seven-figure salaries … '' I could go on.
What I'm driving at is that the way certain professions are treated seems to be dictated by entrenched preconceptions. It seems perfectly reasonable to many that music publishers, record labels and publicans have a business to run and should be compensated for their work.
Yesterday, the government released its report into the live music industry's annual economic contribution to the state, which was calculated at more than $500 million.
It is time attitudes changed to more fairly benefit those without whom there would be no music industry - the musicians.
Via
Exile On Fleet Street
Rupert Murdoch’s strange, covert reign over British public life did not begin all at once. It came about gradually, by accretion, and started with his purchase in 1969 of a dusty old tabloid called The News of the World.
In the same year, the BBC — keen to understand the man who some said would transform British media — dispatched one of its cherished sons to interview Murdoch. David Dimbleby — then a 30-year-old reporter, today the august host of the BBC’s flagship political debate program — set about Murdoch with the clipped vowels and polished cunning that will be familiar to viewers of Question Time. Halfway through the report Dimbleby speaks to Murdoch’s second wife, Anna. Here, he strikes on a more informal line of questioning, and says with an almost coquettish lilt in his voice:
“I expect it’s awful to be the wife of a media tycoon. I mean, don’t you feel cut out of so much of his life?”
Anna considers for a moment. Then she says:
“I don’t like it when people call him a tycoon. Tycoon is a sort of Americanism. He’s a good Australian businessman, and he’s come over here.” The beginnings of a smile flicker over Anna’s face; she suppresses it, and adds: “And he’s going to show you how to do it.”
That answer was an impromptu, perfect encapsulation of the Murdoch project as it was then conceived. For 30 years Murdoch has considered himself the ultimate outsider at the heart of the British establishment, a man “over here” and determined to bring a value system shaped by the colonial experience — one that insists on egalitarianism, robustness, and competition — to bear on an old British elite that he considered hypocritical, complacent, and, above all, beholden to repulsive class prejudice. That outsider mentality has lain behind everything Murdoch has done, from the culture of tabloid sensationalism pioneered at the News of the World, to the breaking of the print unions in Fleet Street in the 1980s, to the assault launched on Britain’s sleepy- four-channel television landscape by the Sky pay-TV network. It drove him to sell the British people a new idea of themselves, and their country. In our millions, we bought it...
In the same year, the BBC — keen to understand the man who some said would transform British media — dispatched one of its cherished sons to interview Murdoch. David Dimbleby — then a 30-year-old reporter, today the august host of the BBC’s flagship political debate program — set about Murdoch with the clipped vowels and polished cunning that will be familiar to viewers of Question Time. Halfway through the report Dimbleby speaks to Murdoch’s second wife, Anna. Here, he strikes on a more informal line of questioning, and says with an almost coquettish lilt in his voice:
“I expect it’s awful to be the wife of a media tycoon. I mean, don’t you feel cut out of so much of his life?”
Anna considers for a moment. Then she says:
“I don’t like it when people call him a tycoon. Tycoon is a sort of Americanism. He’s a good Australian businessman, and he’s come over here.” The beginnings of a smile flicker over Anna’s face; she suppresses it, and adds: “And he’s going to show you how to do it.”
That answer was an impromptu, perfect encapsulation of the Murdoch project as it was then conceived. For 30 years Murdoch has considered himself the ultimate outsider at the heart of the British establishment, a man “over here” and determined to bring a value system shaped by the colonial experience — one that insists on egalitarianism, robustness, and competition — to bear on an old British elite that he considered hypocritical, complacent, and, above all, beholden to repulsive class prejudice. That outsider mentality has lain behind everything Murdoch has done, from the culture of tabloid sensationalism pioneered at the News of the World, to the breaking of the print unions in Fleet Street in the 1980s, to the assault launched on Britain’s sleepy- four-channel television landscape by the Sky pay-TV network. It drove him to sell the British people a new idea of themselves, and their country. In our millions, we bought it...
Continue reading
David Mattin @'LA Review of Books'
These riots show the cost of consumption
In a 1965 essay, The Nature of War, British anthropologist Professor Sir Edmund Leach argued:
But as anthropologists would point out, the sort of consumption most readers of this blog will be familiar with -- the simple and complex decision-making involved in the purchase of particular types of goods and services -- is far from universal. It therefore cannot be explained simply as a "natural" aspect of human behaviour by the sort of "rational choice" theory beloved by economists.
Instead, it is necessary to dig deeper and ask why certain categories of goods and services available in our society are valued differentially by different groups of people.
Yesterday and today, UK political leaders have been keen to point out that the looting of shops in London and other UK cities has little if any connection with the shooting by the Metropolitan Police's Operation Trident team last week of Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old black man from the Tottenham area of North London.
But are they right? I am not so sure. Whatever the truth of the matter, politicians are certainly wrong to fall back on a variety of explanatory clichés, like "mindless acts of violence and destruction" and "mindless criminality" carried out by "mindless thugs". Mindlessness would create randomness, but the events unfolding are far from being random.
Instead, I would argue that what we are witnessing is a significant symbolic statement about the way power -- the power of life and death exercised by police officers as well as the power to consume -- is arranged in British society.
There is a further point. Given the accusations of "mindlessness", it has been interesting to monitor the behaviour of the mainly young people -- predominantly male, but also female -- involved in the social disorder that has affected London and other major cities in England. One intriguing aspect of events has been the selection of targets by young people involved in the disturbances, which have mainly affected so-called "inner-city" areas.
There have been some odd choices -- last night on BBC TV, for example, I saw that a small shop selling items for children's parties had been ransacked in one part of London -- but by and large the focus has been on breaking into major electrical retailers like Currys and Dixons, mobile phone chains like Carphone Warehouse, supermarkets including Tesco, jewellers, and top-of-the- range "casual" and sports clothing stores.
This is why most of disorder has occurred either in high streets, shopping malls or out-of-town retail park locations. Put simply, these young people, most of whom I would guess live on the margins -- that is they do not come from comfortable middle-class homes -- wanted to access physical products which typically have high financial and symbolic value either within their primary peer group or because they can be sold on to others.
But they also wanted something more: the sort of social power -- even temporarily -- that is normally only exercised by affluent Britons equipped with nice houses, nice cars and credit cards.
The other interesting feature is that most of the violence has been directed by the rioters at the police, but not -- apart from one unlucky victim who was shot in Croydon last night and died in hospital today -- so far at ordinary groups or individuals. This may change as social tensions around race and ethnicity surface but at the moment these scenarios seem unlikely given the multi-ethnic make-up of those participating in the disorder.
But given the fact that property theft is a prototypical criminal offence in a Western-type economy, where affluence forms the bedrock of the dominant culture, it is little wonder that British Prime Minister David Cameron and Mayor of London Boris Johnson have cut short their holidays or that Parliament is to be recalled on Thursday. The political class and many other ordinary citizens evidently feel that the very fabric of society is under threat. Where now for the big society?
Sean Carey @'New Statesman'
Every society must bring the aggressive instincts of its individual members under control. This can never be achieved simply by outright repression or by moral precepts, but only by sublimation, that is by providing legitimate outlets for dangerous feelings.Different cultures -- traditional and modern -- achieve this in different ways of course. However, in market economies there can be little doubt that such sublimation is achieved mainly by consumption. It is the great driver of human endeavour and aspiration. Indeed, in an advanced economy like the UK, consumption makes up around two thirds of all economic activity.
But as anthropologists would point out, the sort of consumption most readers of this blog will be familiar with -- the simple and complex decision-making involved in the purchase of particular types of goods and services -- is far from universal. It therefore cannot be explained simply as a "natural" aspect of human behaviour by the sort of "rational choice" theory beloved by economists.
Instead, it is necessary to dig deeper and ask why certain categories of goods and services available in our society are valued differentially by different groups of people.
Yesterday and today, UK political leaders have been keen to point out that the looting of shops in London and other UK cities has little if any connection with the shooting by the Metropolitan Police's Operation Trident team last week of Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old black man from the Tottenham area of North London.
But are they right? I am not so sure. Whatever the truth of the matter, politicians are certainly wrong to fall back on a variety of explanatory clichés, like "mindless acts of violence and destruction" and "mindless criminality" carried out by "mindless thugs". Mindlessness would create randomness, but the events unfolding are far from being random.
Instead, I would argue that what we are witnessing is a significant symbolic statement about the way power -- the power of life and death exercised by police officers as well as the power to consume -- is arranged in British society.
There is a further point. Given the accusations of "mindlessness", it has been interesting to monitor the behaviour of the mainly young people -- predominantly male, but also female -- involved in the social disorder that has affected London and other major cities in England. One intriguing aspect of events has been the selection of targets by young people involved in the disturbances, which have mainly affected so-called "inner-city" areas.
There have been some odd choices -- last night on BBC TV, for example, I saw that a small shop selling items for children's parties had been ransacked in one part of London -- but by and large the focus has been on breaking into major electrical retailers like Currys and Dixons, mobile phone chains like Carphone Warehouse, supermarkets including Tesco, jewellers, and top-of-the- range "casual" and sports clothing stores.
This is why most of disorder has occurred either in high streets, shopping malls or out-of-town retail park locations. Put simply, these young people, most of whom I would guess live on the margins -- that is they do not come from comfortable middle-class homes -- wanted to access physical products which typically have high financial and symbolic value either within their primary peer group or because they can be sold on to others.
But they also wanted something more: the sort of social power -- even temporarily -- that is normally only exercised by affluent Britons equipped with nice houses, nice cars and credit cards.
The other interesting feature is that most of the violence has been directed by the rioters at the police, but not -- apart from one unlucky victim who was shot in Croydon last night and died in hospital today -- so far at ordinary groups or individuals. This may change as social tensions around race and ethnicity surface but at the moment these scenarios seem unlikely given the multi-ethnic make-up of those participating in the disorder.
But given the fact that property theft is a prototypical criminal offence in a Western-type economy, where affluence forms the bedrock of the dominant culture, it is little wonder that British Prime Minister David Cameron and Mayor of London Boris Johnson have cut short their holidays or that Parliament is to be recalled on Thursday. The political class and many other ordinary citizens evidently feel that the very fabric of society is under threat. Where now for the big society?
Sean Carey @'New Statesman'
London riots: Twitter says all tweets must continue to flow
Talking to The Telegraph, a Twitter spokesman stuck to the company’s line that the tweets must continue to flow, referring to a blog post written by the service’s co-founder Biz Stone at the start of this year.
The spokesman referred to the post, which is entitled 'The Tweets Must Flow', when asked by The Telegraph as to whether any rioters' accounts had or would be shut down. It says: “Our goal is to instantly connect people everywhere to what is most meaningful to them. For this to happen, freedom of expression is essential.
“Some tweets may facilitate positive change in a repressed country, some make us laugh, some make us think, some downright anger a vast majority of users. We don't always agree with the things people choose to tweet, but we keep the information flowing irrespective of any view we may have about the content.”
Twitter’s spokesman refused to reveal whether the company was working with the police to help locate people who have used the service to organise lootings and riots.
They also refused to disclose whether they had already handed over contact details of certain Twitter users to the authorities.
During the Arab revolutions earlier this year, attention focused on Twitter’s role in organising the protests, but for the looters and rioters of Tottenham, Enfield and Brixton, the communications tool of choice has apparently been BlackBerry Messenger (BBM). It appears to have acted as their private, encrypted social network over the past two nights’ violence.
However, many of the rioters have also used Twitter as a platform to announce their next targets and as a rallying cry to fellow looters.
The police are now understood to be scouring all tweets which have incited hatred or violence and have promised to bring their original authors to justice.
Emma Barnett @'The Telegraph'
However, many of the rioters have also used Twitter as a platform to announce their next targets and as a rallying cry to fellow looters.
The police are now understood to be scouring all tweets which have incited hatred or violence and have promised to bring their original authors to justice.
Emma Barnett @'The Telegraph'
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