Blog

New LP: Uncanny

“Uncanny”: a little 8-track LP I’ve recorded this September-October, pulling exclusively from tunes completed this past year. It’s been a year for some big themes: a little death, a little birth. I had just over the statutory limit of LP playtime in tunes written since last November, and a free copy of Ableton Lite I’d been putting off learning anything about. As I polished off the last tune for this package — and it was a Halloween tune, because that should be a bigger genre — the title “Uncanny” felt fitting with all the reflection on life itself, on its limits, and what we make of it.

A little note for Halloween, because that’s today: Who Goes There is our little haunting psycho-sexual closer here. I’ve always been a Halloweenhead. The supernatural, to me, poses all the same existential questions that religion does — what’s after this body, what’s there in the invisible world, who’s pulling the unseen strings — but presented as a mystery, not an answer. In that sense, it’s both delightfully anti-authoritarian, and an invitation to take these irreducible fears and approach them with a spirit of play, to make them somehow lighter and shared. That we do this as a community, that we do this with children, just seems like a really undersold tradition.

The album is now on my youtube, and will be on all streaming services within whatever technobureaucratic lag time they each impose. Listen and share, and come see me play a little hole in the wall sometime.

The Century-Long Grief

We are used to hearing that climate change is impossible to feel and respond to for people, as a century-long threat. But to those who see its scale, it is rather a century-long grief. Today is another grief day.

“Babylon Unbound!” Is Unleashed on the World

A long time coming, this audiobook is finally out:

At the last lick of a heat stroke summer, a broke ex-stockbroker secluded in the Georgia boonies succumbs to his neuroses, sets fire to his house, and drives into town to shoot six holes through the front window of his internet service provider’s regional outlet. Leroy Spasmo has been waiting for this moment for years, cultivating dependencies on alt media, stewing in conspiracy theories, and deepening a grand resentment for the family that left him, and the world that left him behind.

His defiant video message, recorded drunk with pistol in hand before the store window, goes viral on the internet. In a flourish of inspiration, he paints a worldview of government mind control, social disintegration, and a Helsinki Hijink led by nefarious Swedish agents. But is he a joke to the powers that be, or a prophet to their peons?

Released in audio-only and read by the author, this absurdist satire of democratic misadventures in the post-truth era comes from Cherry Hill Press in 2021. It is available from Cherry Hill and on Audible.

“Babylon Unbound!” is Coming

I’m thrilled to say that Cherry Hill Publishing and I just signed some very important documents to confirm that “Bablyon Unbound!”, my satire on a downwardly mobile former stockbroker who becomes the leader of an internet cult, is going to come out as an audiobook this fall. I’ll be reading the audio.

Much love and thanks to O’Connor Literary Agency for believing.

More to come on this in the coming days.

Police culture

For me, the most alarming thing to come out of the Chauvin trial was the defense. We touch on the themes of police culture speculatively, all the time — gesturing at what they must know and think and be like to tolerate the rate of police killings that they do. But to take that culture, and put it on the stand, and make it articulate its beliefs clearly for the jury — we don’t get that every day.

Chauvin’s defense did not simply focus on, oh, what a terrible mistake Chauvin committed, but please focus on the required intent to sustain a murder charge. Chauvin’s defense team invited an officer up to the stand to argue that, in full light of all the evidence, witnesses — in spite of nine minutes of a helpless man crying he couldn’t breathe and bystanders shouting that he was dying — that Chauvin’s actions were justified and within the scope of permissible force.

That is, that police are authorized to use lethal force in response to a situation in which no one is physically threatened. That is the belief.

If this officer were in my community, I would not call the police on anyone, for anything. I wouldn’t remain in the same place where there was a police presence. That is just a terror.

Now, consider that those kinds of officers probably are in your community. They just haven’t been asked to take the stand yet.

Pathology of Man

Ted Cruz was in the news lately saying that leftists view humans as a disease. This is a common narrative tension in environmentalism, and it tempted my attention long enough to write a brief retort. The simple version is that while humans are not inherently disease-like, people like Ceuz are trying hard to make us function like one.

The truth is that any part of the natural world, if allowed to grow so large and careless that it wipes out all other life and degrades the ecosystem on which its survival relies, is toxic in effect. But there’s a big difference to being toxic in effect and toxic by nature.

Humans have created the sixth mass extinction in the history of the natural world. Humans are ushering in a rate of planetary change that very plausibly could trigger scarcity, migration, and war on a scale greater than anything in history. These are uncomfortable truths. These are the risks that I see defining the back half of my life, if I get more than a half-century or so.

And yet, humans are also growing in marvelous and awe-inspiring ways — reaching huge, peaceful, prosperous, increasingly tolerant and connected numbers unlike anything in history. We don’t have to go back to pre-industrial standards of living or populations. We don’t even have to marginally reduce our population numbers or standards of living. But we do have to be selective about how and where we grow in order to maintain a healthy amount of planetary biodiversity and maintain the climate system on which our civilizations rely. And yes, that requires consideration of the ways in which we could function like a disease, and avoid them. These are not complex changes: they require fuel-switching, more protected natural areas, perhaps some market reforms to help achieve these goals efficiently, and effective international accords to incentivize nations to participate. When we talk about avoiding catastrophic risk, we are not even talking about dramatic changes. We can be the dominant species and yet maintain natural systems on which we rely, preserving ourselves and our planet’s evolutionary heritage. This does not condemn our human nature over any other living system, and should not trouble you unless your moral view was so simple that all things pleasant for man even in the short term were holy and morally privileged. I do fear that this is the psychology we’re working against.

So if we do not take simple steps to control how and where we grow — if we do not consider our capacity to function like a disease on this planet and wisely correct — we will become what people like Cruz are encouraging us to be: a people so morally simple and blind to their impacts on the natural world that they overwhelm the systems they require to survive. Ted Cruz and his ideological brethren should hear their own argument and realize they are the true objects of its critique.

“He hates me, but he caught me”

I know I’m ten years late to the party, but the season 1, episode 9 storyline in Community where Jeff and Annie compete in a school debate is one of the best pieces of television writing I’ve ever seen. It is an economical, dramatic, ironic lynchpin that, in a few words, stages the show’s thesis.

Jeff is a sleazeball disbarred lawyer in his thirties whose exploits in the series to this point are mostly shallow sexual pursuits. His major crises — losing his condo and sleeping out of his car — have not really forced him to grow in the expected ways. Seeing that Jeff won’t necessarily use this humbling experience to become a more sympathetic or less materialistic person, his friends conspire to steal his beloved sink fixtures out of his repossessed condo in order to inspire him to regain his former position in life, shallow as it may be.

Annie is an 18-year old wallflower with a huge sexual confidence problem. In the very previous episode, she is so incapable of confessing her feelings for a boy that she fakes appendicitis to get his attention — a Freudian degree of repression. She later runs out of the hospital pantsless intending to stop a romantic encounter, only to falter and demand that the boy merely return her grandmother’s quilt before making out with another woman on it. It is painful to watch. Her sexual repression perhaps maps onto a larger failure of self-confidence that has inhibited her in school and life.

Jeff gets roped into joining Annie on the school’s team for a debate competition, where they’re huge underdogs. The community college they represent is, from the series’ first words, the refuge of every type of deeply flawed person. Bringing these characters into the light of self-acceptance and then growth is the show’s mandate.

Jeff and Annie compete against City College, a way better school that represents a kind of elitist purity in the world of the show. Their star debater is an almost obnoxiously sympathetic fellow in a wheelchair, and our characters despise him. The debate topic is literally whether man is good or evil. The elitist goody-goodys must argue that man is good, and the oddball fuckups must argue that man is evil. The stakes are already dramatically aligned.

In the process of preparing for the debate, Annie and Jeff both grow in surprising ways. Annie, it turns out, has some serious confident energy the moment she steps into the debate arena. This in turn attracts her to Jeff, who has a native, if somewhat repugnant, confidence in bamboozling people from his lawyer days. The age difference between the two is seriously problematic, but at the same time, that this attraction is rooted in a kinship on the debate stage, rather than childish crushes or objectification, represents real growth for both of them. It is also, because of the real moral complexity of the age difference, an unexpected match to the audience.

The debate itself is an impressive little moral survey in quick sound bites. Where the episode knocks it out of the park, though, is in the debate’s last moments.

The wheelchair-bound star debate for City College has one final rebuttal, and he knows he’s losing. In a fit of inspiration, he tears up his notes, pushes his wheelchair as fast as it will go at Jeff, and throws himself across the stage in a moment of visual absurdism that sees him almost graze the auditorium rafters in slow motion. The room is breathless.

Jeff catches him. The boy, still in Jeff’s arms, turns to the judges and says, “He hates me, but he caught me! Man is good!”

Following stunner with stunner, Annie grabs Jeff to kiss him. Jeff spins on his heels, drops the boy, and reciprocates the passionate embrace. Annie then lets go of Jeff, turns to the judges and points at the cripple lying face-down on the stage, saying, “He’s horny, so he dropped him! Man is evil!”

The underdogs win.

It is such a tight, expressive, loaded sequence, I’m still in awe. At this point, the debate takes expression not through man in the abstract, but these characters in particular, and the series uses them to punch its philosophic thesis: Jeff is not a good man, but he will catch the cripple. Jeff will kiss an eighteen-year-old, but when he does it is out of the most pure sense of respect that he’s shown for anyone in the series so far. Annie sees with full clarity that Jeff is not a good man, but she loves him in that moment in part because she sees in him a kinship through the same pursuits that are now liberating her character. She knows that tempting Jeff to drop the cripple in order to win a competition is, in a way, sharing in his callousness. But still she seizes that connection, not with fully liberated libido, but with a liberated spirit that can begin, at least, to access its libido. The moment is a repudiation of the moral dichotomy altogether, as the victors celebrate over the defeated binary still lying face-down on the stage before them.

They are each, in short, neither good nor evil, but in engaging their flaws they find their noblest moments. I think “engagement” is the correct word here — Helene Cixous lamented once that English does not have a word with the same with/against connotation as the French “contre”, but I think “engage” comes close, as we engage in war and we engage in marriage. We embrace and reorient, we dance with our flaws, we find a way to acknowledge the evils in our character that have led us to some low position in life, and then use them in a more constructive way. Every characteristic can be deployed in healthy or unhealthy ways, and we can choose between them if we first understand and accept that characteristic. We cannot simply renounce our flaws, but must, rather, engage them.

It is, in a few words, both a satisfying philosophic statement of the show’s thesis, a breakthrough moment of character growth, a dramatic seesaw confrontation on the stage, and an excellent bit of verbal and physical comedy. I marvel at what stars aligned in that writer’s mind to make it so tight and synchronous. It sits in my mind as perhaps the best bit of television writing I can remember, in either drama or comedy.

In this way, Community is a much more morally complex show than its close cousin, Schitt’s Creek — for while both are about flawed people getting better through their engagement in a community, Community doesn’t offer us any binaries to see its world through. In Schitt’s Creek, the bad people essentially get better by going and staying among the good people and unlearning their badnesses. That’s it, pretty much. The good people are slouchy and silly, but they code as morally good in all the important ways. In Community, the show takes the bold posture that the community college is, well, kind of full of bad people. It doesn’t romanticize or sanctify the hoi polloi. To be in this community college, they have probably failed themselves in life in some serious way. They must become better. But, the show insists, their growth will not be through rejecting the traits that brought them here. When Jeff tries to live in poverty, it doesn’t enlighten him. He must learn to engage with his materialism in ways that inspire him to live a better life. If he’s a sleazy bamboozler at heart, maybe he can use that to find a wholesome respect and kinship with a young woman in need of that trait in her life.

And that’s the posture of the show itself, dramatized in a little bit of debate competition, expressed through its characters’ growth in that moment, and underwritten by a tight bit of physical comedy. He hates me, but he caught me. He’s horny, so he dropped him. Thirteen words. Leap, drop, embrace, engage, reveal.

On Free Information and the Fantasy Industrial Complex

Today, the Capitol is not fallen.

But it is much harder to say that the country’s democratic culture is not broken.

While a few thousand breached the walls, perhaps a hundred million more across the country quietly indulge the core fantasy that these attackers believe: that, because their president said so, a massive conspiracy took place to manufacture fake ballots for the Democratic candidate, and that American democracy has therefore functionally collapsed and must be resuscitated. That is the takeaway from public opinion polls that find that 70% of Republicans believe the election was stolen. This is whole cloth fantasy. They believe this in spite of every major media outlet denying it; in spite of the conclusions of Republican judges who have reviewed the total absence of evidence; in spite of the fact that the president’s own lawyers will not repeat the true scope of this lie in court, for fear of professional censure.

This is not the first time the country has fallen apart on common understandings of reality. It is merely the most telegenic fallout in recent times.

A country that cannot find a common understanding of reality at that scale cannot govern itself. It may lurch between elections that happen towards good or bad candidates, or towards a legislative consensus on this or that issue, but it remains vulnerable at any moment to the snowballing lie that tells us that water treatment plants are injecting mind-control drugs or the planet is not warming or our parties are ruled by lizard people or pedophiles or that an archly vain pathological liar on television is the only person you can trust.

The cause and the solution to this problem are quite simple. A generation ago, technology liberated every would-be propagandist to spread lies at a scale equal with the reach of the New York Times, and we embraced this revolution with a deeply naive belief that more speech was always better speech. There is now far greater bandwidth, and far more mind-hours, devoted to processing various strains of viral garbage than to real news. We wake up twitching with anxiety and we go to bed scrolling our phones. This is the mental disability we have inflicted on ourselves.

The country — and the world — needs a good dose of the unsympathetic editorial expertise that made America’s newsrooms the center of democracy in the 20th century. We need to understand that free speech is not an inalienable right to drown the airwaves in lies. While anyone can speak a lie if they like, we, as a culture, need to affirm that producing and disseminating mass media is a privilege that should have gatekeepers, and accept that this means we restrict our own access to these platforms in view of the common good. I don’t need this blog, or my facebook page, or a twitter, to be a whole and valued member of society with a voice. I should need to work hard and make connections and build credibility with them in order to have access to mass media. We need to relearn our respect for institutions and actors with real expertise, instead of valorizing the common guy who “does his research” by unwittingly and avidly reading sufficient quantities of garbage before hopping on Youtube and spewing his preferred fantasy into vulnerable minds.

One of the more sobering cultural shifts that we can trace to the birth of the internet, I fear, is that education itself (along with many other outdated forms of institutional authority) is no longer seen as a form of social capital. We seem to mildly distrust anyone with Dr. before their name, who spends too much time in the academies and not enough time making money or noise in the media. We vaguely look down on advanced degrees and valorize the doers and shouters who simply read enough of their twitter feed to see through the lies of the mainstream discourse and aren’t shy to tell you about them. This is a deeply toxic attitude, and a significant step backwards in our cultural development.

I dream that in a hundred years time, the term “social media” (or some gaggle of near-synonyms capturing what was unique about this time) will be rightly regarded as a toxic and naive aberrance in how society speaks to itself. That, yes, the telegram will be replaced by email; and a group chat can function just like a conference line; and the Arab Spring can still be spurred by an iPhone capturing video that couldn’t have been taken in the 20th century; but the wider internet will be restricted to a few well-regulated entities, like network television once was. We will build institutions and gatekeepers to regulate the quality of the content we feed on. In that world, we won’t lose hours worrying about our personal virtual influence, or doom-scrolling through the worst opinions and lies with unjustifiable platforms, or dripping away with dread at how society can be maintained with people of such absurd beliefs as we see all around us. We will, in return, give up the freedom to spend our time in ways that were mostly toxic to us. And our children will look back on this era with a deeper appreciation of an element of human nature: that all the “common sense” and inherent rationality we once presumed would guide an unbounded discourse towards ever deeper insight is, in fact, learned; can be unlearned; is deeply dependent on the quality of the discourse that surrounds it; so that the individual stands no better chance of discriminating between a thousand competing lies online than the feral wolfchild does of discerning which is the salad fork at a dinner party.

We need to agree on the uses and limits of free information, and build the walls that a society needs to have a coherent discourse.

Lacking that, a decent-minded president in a country where a third of the population believes in the lizard people theory remains constantly on the brink of dissolution. Last week, we saw a telegenic warning. One day, they will not be warnings.

Re: King Queen Knave


If you had to learn one thing from Nabokov, it’s that sticky mingling of erotic and social tension, and how to let it linger, let it choke your reader, and defer its resolution for an entire novel.