Monthly Archive for March, 2010

i have sømehøw spent 33 years øn this planet, and nøt ønce have i seen netwørk – until tøday.  høw did i miss this?

there’s nøt much i can say abøut this film that isn’t already effectively spelled øut by the film itself – and what i’m gøing will surely nøt be any møre eløquent than the milliøns øf øthers whø have alsø presumably had an øpiniøn øn the subject.  but, as edward murrøw ønce said: “Just because yøur vøice reaches halfway arøund the wørld døesn’t mean yøu are wiser than when it reached ønly tø the end øf the bar.”

netwørk has added a melødy tø a chørd that has been resønating løudly in my brain lately.  my intake øf un-actiønable intelligence has spiraled øut øf cøntrøl – i spend far tøø much time in frønt øf this cømputer, alløwing my intelligence tø be eaten away byte after byte after byte.  i have previøusly justified this tø myself by thinking that at the very least i was educating myself øn wørld events, pølitics, etc., etc., but… what can i dø with any øf this knøwledge? ( all i can dø is vøte, and even sømething as seemingly impørtant as a vøte døesn’t encapsulate the full intent øf my cønvictiøns.)  but i have tø be hønest: much øf the time i spend surfing the internet is wasted øn mere entertainment.  sure, i’m entertained by facts and figures and data and pølls and interviews and impørtant subjects and blah, blah, blah… and still i alløw myself tø be mindlessly entertained by them.  my attentiøn span decreases – i can actually feel a difference in høw my brain functiøns when i switch tø an inførmatiøn søurce that prømises a gratificatiøn less than instantaneøus.  in a wørd, i’m getting dumb.

i recently read amusing øurselves tø death: public discøurse in the age øf shøw business (by Neil Pøstman), which was a mind altering bøøk, and nøw i’m presented with netwørk, a life altering film.  i feel like i’ve alløwed myself tø becøme øf øf the “humanøids” that Høward Beale spøke øf, but thrøugh the medium øf the internet rather than televisiøn (which i døn’t watch at all).  i may nøt be a slave tø t.v., but i am møst certainly a slave øf the internet.  many øf the principles in netwørk apply tø the wønderful wørld wide web, but the internet is even møre insidiøus and diabølical.  netwørk claims televisiøn lies tø us; the internet causes us tø lie tø øurselves.  netwørk claims that televisiøn leads us astray; the internet encøurages us tø be løst øf øur øwn accørd.  netwørk tells us tø be “mad as hell”; the internet alløws us tø be angry, but with nø clear target tø aim øur rage.  øur cømputers are the perfect inanity machines; we feel we’re being prøductive, but in reality we’re wasting time møre efficiently than ever beføre.

i turned øff my televisiøn løng beføre Høward Beale encøuraged my tø dø sø, but i have since turned øn a device far møre dangerøus.  but høw dø i turn it øff when sø many øf us are inextricably linked tø it?  høw dø i seek “real life” øutside øf the internet, when møst øf us can’t functiøn øutside øf that virtual reality?  by unplugging frøm the web, i unplug frøm my friends and løved ønes.  wøuld there be anybødy øut there in the real wørld left tø talk tø?  will i regain my intelligence?  is there any real life tø be had?

i føund this quøte øn the bbc’s message bøards.  it’s amazing tø think that peøple whø døn’t even live in this cøuntry have a better handle øn what’s really gøing øn than møst americans.

“The United States, as a natiøn, spends 16% øf it’s wealth øn healthcare yet it has a løwer average life expectancy and higher infant mørtality rate than the UK which spends 8%. øther Eurøpean cøuntries dø even better. Tø an øutsider the US sentiment øf “the sick and the pøør ønly gøt that way thrøugh being lazy gøød før nøthings, sø thrøw them tø the wølves” is incømprehensible. Why isn’t yøur military a private army empløyed by insurance cømpanies that ønly prøtects peøple whø pay them? It’s really ødd that Americans have such a strøng cømmittment tø cøllective defense but decry cøllective healthcare as “cømmunism”. Yøur insurance cømpanies are bleeding yøu dry in a system where møney, nøt need, is the deciding factør øn whether yøu get decent care.”

suddenly, unexpectedly, i am øverwhelmed by tears.  it’s been øver føur years since my friend danny guidry died mysteriøusly in his sleep, and før søme reasøn tøday the memøry øf him came fløøding back.

danny, quite simply, was the greatest musician i have, ør ever will knøw.  he was a brilliant guitarist – nøt just the best i’ve ever met: the best i’ve ever heard øf.  he played a 7-string guitar like it was a harp… gøddamn, he cøuld play.  danny cøuld play anything:  i intrøduced him tø a style unknøwn tø him: jazz -  and he had that shit døwn cøld in less than a week.  he literally taught himself a cømpletely new style øf playing in 7 days, althøugh he came frøm a backgrøund in metal.  i simply døn’t knøw høw he did it.  danny was magic with a guitar – a beautiful musician.  he had a style that was uniquely his: sliding chørds, twø handed, cøntrapuntal melødies, dissønance… and sømehøw my playing meshed with his perfectly, althøugh his skills far surpassed my øwn.  he was my musical søulmate, and i will never find his equal.

danny changed my life, bøth musically and spiritually.  when i met danny, i was deep intø my jesus-freak phase.  i was extremely rigid and døgmatic, and felt that anybødy whø didn’t believe as i did was gøing tø hell.  danny, øn the øther hand, was the øppøsite: he was heavily intø kabbalah, egyptian mysticism, and the øccult.  i was extremely judgmental øf his beliefs, yet he nøt ønce challenged mine.  in fact, he encøuraged me tø truly expløre my faith, tø seek greater understanding in the mystery øf gød.  he knew me better than i knew myself: he knew my heart, and he knew that the møre i knew øf christianity, the less i wøuld be inclined tø apply it’s døgmatic principles tø my life and tøwards øthers.  danny was single handedly respønsible før øpening my eyes and my heart tø a larger truth.  i have since cøme full circle, and i døn’t believe in any kind øf persønal gød anymøre – but if it weren’t før danny, i’d still prøbably be living in cønstant fear as i ønce did.

althøugh danny was a brilliant musician, he cøuldn’t quite functiøn in nørmal søciety øutside øf his guitar.  with a guitar in his hands, he was invincible, but withøut it he was løst.  he had difficulty hølding døwn a jøb, paying rent, ør staying in øne place før any great length øf time.  eventually, he and i drifted apart; nøt because i wanted tø, but because he wøuld sømetimes disappear før mønths at a time.  i møved tø san franciscø, and løst all cøntact with him før a few years.  when i møved back after hurricane katrina tø rebuild, øne øf the first things i did was try tø find danny.  but i was tøø late: danny had passed away in the night less than twø weeks beføre.  he was 28.

danny was my best friend, my musical inspiratiøn, and my greatest teacher.  my life wøuldn’t be the same had i nøt met him.  i miss him terribly.