Occasionally things happen in Canada that pique ones curiosity. Hell, I'd go so far as to say I'm VERY INTERESTED in what's going to happen in my country this Tuesday.
Lawyers Against the War are an international protest movement that I first became aware of when I saw their banner during an anti-war march last spring (the one which Noam Chomsky spoke at). They're declaring GWB a war criminal and are taking a two-pronged course of action, on the one hand by trying to get the Canadian government to bar Bush from entering the country, and on the other, considering trying to press charges against him when he comes. Given a pattern of complicity by the Canadian government in American politics, a general lack of political self-assertiveness that comes with the territory of being Canadian, and our economic dependency on the United States, of which Canadians are well aware, it seems fairly unlikely that anything too dramatic is going to happen.
Of course, there will be protests -- angry people in the streets, waving signs. I'll be among them, but I guess I shouldn't let myself hope for anything more. It's like the buildup to last year's general strike in Vancouver -- the one that was cancelled at the last minute; all the grafitti heralding the action lingered for awhile, adding a what-if-we-had flavour to our workdays, but it was like we knew all along that nothing would come of it, knew we'd be too afraid to put the matter to the test. In the end, all the hospital workers at the center of the strike were laid off, their jobs contracted out as planned, replaced by part-timers and huge indifferent corporations; I was told by one of the doctors (who no longer eats at the hospital) that a cook who had worked at St. Pauls for 27 years, devoting himself to the well being of the staff, was replaced, pensionless, by a megacorporation mentioned in Super Size Me. We can wonder, now that the moment has passed, why we just rolled over, why we didn't strike, what weakness kept us from going the distance. Much as some of us would like to see some changes to the current world order, no doubt the same weakness will surface on Tuesday.
It's sad to see, really: even Jack Layton, the alleged voice of the left, is gearing up to kiss Bush's ass, which is pretty disgusting to some of us. Politicians who aren't towing that line are getting pushed aside. Protest marches are more a sign of our political disenfranchisement than anything else -- our politicians don't represent us, we have no access to the corridors of power, so we have to just brace ourselves for anticlimax and head out into the streets.
One can dream, tho'. Of course, it'll be in Ottawa that things will happen, if anywhere. Still, for those of us off to the side of things, Stopwar.ca have organized rallies around lunch on Tuesday in front of the American consulate in Vancouver and a gathering/march at 5PM (for us workin' folk) in front of the Vancouver Art Gallery. The posters, glued up around the city, have the message "war criminals not welcome here" across Bush's forehead. Probably he'll get a warmer reception than he got in Chile, but... it's Canada, for God sake. Doing things you feel proud of is practically taboo.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
The Brown Bunny vs. the War in Iraq
...two things that are competing for my attention, these days (along with this rather intense Australian John Cassavetes fan... more on that later): Vincent Gallo's The Brown Bunny and the war in Iraq. I'm sure they're connected somehow -- Gallo is a Republican, after all.
I have very little to say about The Brown Bunny. The film felt shorter and faster than I expected it to be-- with the number of reviewers who talked about how long and boring it was, I was shocked at how quickly the film finished -- I actually had to check the clock to see if it had really clocked in at 90 minutes. It was interesting to watch, but left me without thoughts or insight into anything much outside the confines of the film itself -- the only new thing that I left the theatre knowing was how big Gallo's cock actually is (it's not John Holmes-long but it has girth, for those "girth girls" out there. It's a very masculine cock). (Note: were you disappointed that neither of those links lead to a picture of Gallo's penis? Why?). Despite being a bit underwhelmed, I am almost curious about seeing the long version, the alleged "working cut" that was trashed at Cannes and generated all that huff; and not just because I can gain some odd filmsnob status by claiming to prefer it to the "second version." There's one scene in particular where Gallo gets on his bike and drives off into the distance across salt flats; in the longer cut, the shot continued to show Gallo riding back. It sounds better, cooler that way.
By the way, does anyone else but me get disturbed by blowjobs where the man is towering over the woman, hands on her head, while she kneels in front of him? In porn, in art, in life -- it's kind of disturbing to see men who need that sort of reassurance of their power. So many of the blowjobs one sees in porn, in particular, seem to be all about that -- the woman reassuring the man of his masculine strength, praising his penis and semen, assuring him that (as she struggles not to gag) that she really loves doing this, really. I felt kinda sorry for Chloe Sevigny during the blowjob scene in The Brown Bunny (and I began to understand why some women have issues with swallowing). It's a fairly humiliating moment. Gallo does undercut his own assertion of masculinity, afterwards -- but the scene itself is a little disturbing, hardly arousing. IMHO. (In a way, that's a testament to the success of the scene, I guess -- tho' the number of people Googling +"Chloe Sevigny" +blowjob must be astronomical these days (See The Biggest Blowjob Since Monica Lewinsky!).
Meantime, as interesting as such piece of American narcissism is -- and what better narcissism is there than American narcissism? -- I find I'm following the war in Iraq again, and much more interested in the news than film. I'd stopped paying attention, for awhile -- I didn't really want to know. Now I figure with Bush re-elected I need to know what form the oncoming apocalypse is likely to take. Been reading some excellent articles online -- thank God for the internet as a news source. Apparently malnutrition among children has increased since the American invasion -- quite an accomplishment, given the state Iraq was in under sanctions. Interesting to read, too, that Chile came very close to snubbing Bush during his rather heavy handed little visit there -- there were oblique, awkward stories in the press about Chilean security guards refusing to let Bush's thugs into one conference and about a dinner being cancelled because the Chilean government thought Bush's insistence on metal detectors at the door was an insult to other invited diplomats and political figures. Chile, of course, has its own September 11th to remember, which likely leaves Chileans with little warmth in their hearts for the United States.
I wonder if Canada will show Bush as warm a reception? Justin Podur put something very articulate about it all on Znet -- I've already (ironically) chastised him via email for leaving Vancouver out (Vancouver is becoming Quebec West in terms of the amount o' bitching we do about our position in Canada). I assume there'll be a protest organized before the end of the month -- I wouldn't want to walk over the Burrard Street bridge all by myself.
I have very little to say about The Brown Bunny. The film felt shorter and faster than I expected it to be-- with the number of reviewers who talked about how long and boring it was, I was shocked at how quickly the film finished -- I actually had to check the clock to see if it had really clocked in at 90 minutes. It was interesting to watch, but left me without thoughts or insight into anything much outside the confines of the film itself -- the only new thing that I left the theatre knowing was how big Gallo's cock actually is (it's not John Holmes-long but it has girth, for those "girth girls" out there. It's a very masculine cock). (Note: were you disappointed that neither of those links lead to a picture of Gallo's penis? Why?). Despite being a bit underwhelmed, I am almost curious about seeing the long version, the alleged "working cut" that was trashed at Cannes and generated all that huff; and not just because I can gain some odd filmsnob status by claiming to prefer it to the "second version." There's one scene in particular where Gallo gets on his bike and drives off into the distance across salt flats; in the longer cut, the shot continued to show Gallo riding back. It sounds better, cooler that way.
By the way, does anyone else but me get disturbed by blowjobs where the man is towering over the woman, hands on her head, while she kneels in front of him? In porn, in art, in life -- it's kind of disturbing to see men who need that sort of reassurance of their power. So many of the blowjobs one sees in porn, in particular, seem to be all about that -- the woman reassuring the man of his masculine strength, praising his penis and semen, assuring him that (as she struggles not to gag) that she really loves doing this, really. I felt kinda sorry for Chloe Sevigny during the blowjob scene in The Brown Bunny (and I began to understand why some women have issues with swallowing). It's a fairly humiliating moment. Gallo does undercut his own assertion of masculinity, afterwards -- but the scene itself is a little disturbing, hardly arousing. IMHO. (In a way, that's a testament to the success of the scene, I guess -- tho' the number of people Googling +"Chloe Sevigny" +blowjob must be astronomical these days (See The Biggest Blowjob Since Monica Lewinsky!).
Meantime, as interesting as such piece of American narcissism is -- and what better narcissism is there than American narcissism? -- I find I'm following the war in Iraq again, and much more interested in the news than film. I'd stopped paying attention, for awhile -- I didn't really want to know. Now I figure with Bush re-elected I need to know what form the oncoming apocalypse is likely to take. Been reading some excellent articles online -- thank God for the internet as a news source. Apparently malnutrition among children has increased since the American invasion -- quite an accomplishment, given the state Iraq was in under sanctions. Interesting to read, too, that Chile came very close to snubbing Bush during his rather heavy handed little visit there -- there were oblique, awkward stories in the press about Chilean security guards refusing to let Bush's thugs into one conference and about a dinner being cancelled because the Chilean government thought Bush's insistence on metal detectors at the door was an insult to other invited diplomats and political figures. Chile, of course, has its own September 11th to remember, which likely leaves Chileans with little warmth in their hearts for the United States.
I wonder if Canada will show Bush as warm a reception? Justin Podur put something very articulate about it all on Znet -- I've already (ironically) chastised him via email for leaving Vancouver out (Vancouver is becoming Quebec West in terms of the amount o' bitching we do about our position in Canada). I assume there'll be a protest organized before the end of the month -- I wouldn't want to walk over the Burrard Street bridge all by myself.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Walked out of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion gig at Richards on Richards tonight. The band didn't look like they were havin' much fun -- it was like watchin' people do a job. They were professional about it, but I just didn't care. Time to stop thinkin' about these guys altogether so I can still listen to my Pussy Galore discs.
One good thing came of the night: saw (the?) Gossip perform, a Portland trio fronted by a really passionate female singer. Really cute, too, and just my type -- dark hair, pale skin, slightly heavy -- but quite possibly, given the dedications she kept makin', a lesbian. Wonder if I was the only guy there with salacious thoughts? She was very sexy, but I figure that big women have a limited (albeit elite) appeal...
Wonder if I'm gonna be able to make the Nomeansno show in Langley tomorrow... I somehow doubt it.
One good thing came of the night: saw (the?) Gossip perform, a Portland trio fronted by a really passionate female singer. Really cute, too, and just my type -- dark hair, pale skin, slightly heavy -- but quite possibly, given the dedications she kept makin', a lesbian. Wonder if I was the only guy there with salacious thoughts? She was very sexy, but I figure that big women have a limited (albeit elite) appeal...
Wonder if I'm gonna be able to make the Nomeansno show in Langley tomorrow... I somehow doubt it.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The First Hollywood Action Movie about the War in Iraq
...the first Hollywood action movie about the current war in Iraq has, to my knowledge, not been made. I'm thinkin' TONY Scott, not Ridley, for this one. George Clooney, of Three Kings fame, can be President Bush (they can use computer animation to make him look shorter, like they did with them hobbits) and Clint Eastwood can be his Dad, the former president. George can fly in with a turkey for a special Thanksgiving for the troops (maybe after the heroic rescue of a female soldier), be kidnapped, and slated to be beheaded, until he's rescued by Marines in the Battle of Fallujah. His Dad (ol' Dirty Harry himself) can fly the plane in that blows up the evil terrorist masterminds, rescues his kid, saves America, and makes Iraq safe for democracy. They can have some fat bearded guy in a baseball cap as some sort of cowardly liberal-type who gets in their way and sells them out to Iraq or such. Better a no-name actor for that role -- maybe by the time the film gets made I'll be fat enough to audition myself. I could be pretty convincing as a pissed-off liberal.
Sickened about Margaret Hassan being killed (still hopin' as I write this that it wasn't her). Wonder if they eschewed the use of a knife out of some sort of respect or mercy... Much as I feel bad for her, tho', it's Andrew Veal whose death is really lingering with me these days.
Sickened about Margaret Hassan being killed (still hopin' as I write this that it wasn't her). Wonder if they eschewed the use of a knife out of some sort of respect or mercy... Much as I feel bad for her, tho', it's Andrew Veal whose death is really lingering with me these days.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Miscellany, plus Funny Language learnin’ errors
Smokin’ a bowl, downloadin’ bootlegs o’ Tom Waits for this hot little redhead I know on a wet Friday nite at 2:05 AM. Listenin’ to him singin’ “Chocolate Jesus” from a 1999 live show in Oregon. I love bootlegs.
I been away. I had a great night at the all-night Nightwatch event at the Western Front last weekend – the highlight being Ellen McIlwane playing slide guitar at 3 AM and tellin’ us stories about her childhood with missionary parents in Japan. (She told us she “always scats in Japanese because it sounds cooler than scoobie doobie.”) What a raconteur! Her stories are almost as cool as her guitar playing. (I like it when musicians tell stories, usually). She tells me via e-mail that she doesn't know Tomokawa Kazuki or Mikami Kan, outsider folkies from the '70's. Gonna mail her a package of CDRs. Tomokawa recently appeared in Miike Takashi's Izo, a sprawling, bizarrely philosophical samurai action film with surrealist moments -- Tomokawa sorta serves as a chorus, his bleakly passionate ballads commenting on the action, his screams lingering after he's off screen.
I got into trading language learning stories with one of the percussionists, I think he was, from Gamelan Alligator Joy (featuring two Javanese guests and Western Front curator D.B. Boyko). He told the audience earlier in the evening that he’d walked around Java telling people a phrase that transliterates from Javanese as “sweet dreams,” having learned the word for “sweet” and the word for “dreams,” and assuming they would, when smacked together, mean the same thing. He in fact was wishing people wet dreams, not sweet ones. Or just asserting “wet dreams” without it being clear it was an item of well-wishing, which, in a way, would be stranger. I approached him later while waiting for the sitar player to come on and told him that I had liked the story. I then explained that I spent weeks in Japan, mistaking “furo” (bath) for “fukuro” (bag), and thus telling shopkeepers that I didn’t need a bath, or, worse, asking them to give me one.
This led to a fun segue to a story about travelling in Vietnam, I think it was, where the tonal aspects of the language make it very easy to say, when you want to be sayin’ “Is this meal vegetarian?”, the far-more loaded phrase, “I intend to leave without paying.” Leading to such great conversations as:
“What would you like, sir?”
“This looks good, but I intend to leave without paying. Is that okay? I intend to leave without paying. There's no meat in this, right? Do you understand?”
I played the final card – my best, a possibly apocryphal tale off (a forum for expats-and-teachers-in-Japan) Big Daikon (where I ride again as Pemmican): A young man wanted to ask his coworker, “Shuumatsu ni, nani o shimashita ka,” which translates as “weekend on, what (object marker) did you do?” He approached his coworker’s desk and smiled and said instead "shuumatsu ni, onani shimashita ka?" -- becoming indignant when his coworker looked at him in shock and horror. The Japanese, you see, have this flexible little syllable “o,” which can move around in sentences – this is a very easily-made error. By putting the “o” in the wrong place, the young man had unconsciously stumbled into the Japanese borrowing from the English word, onanism, meaning he’d asked his coworker, in very polite tones, if he had masturbated on the weekend:
"Excuse me, did you masturbate this weekend?”
"Eh!?”
Even more unfortunate, the Japanese-learner got a little frustrated at his coworker’s inability to understand his simple, perfectly grammatical question: so he repeated it louder, so everyone could hear.
It’s easy enough to compile and chuckle at goofy phrases Japanese learners come up with when they attempt to speak English (the “we-play-for-MacArthur’s-erection” syndrome). I’d like to hear more from native English speakers who fuck up when trying to learn Japanese…
Anyhow, I haven’t abandoned the blog, just haven’t had anything I wanted to write here. Plus Big Daikon has been keeping me busy. I’ll have more to say presently – maybe after the Laurie Anderson show on Sunday night.
I been away. I had a great night at the all-night Nightwatch event at the Western Front last weekend – the highlight being Ellen McIlwane playing slide guitar at 3 AM and tellin’ us stories about her childhood with missionary parents in Japan. (She told us she “always scats in Japanese because it sounds cooler than scoobie doobie.”) What a raconteur! Her stories are almost as cool as her guitar playing. (I like it when musicians tell stories, usually). She tells me via e-mail that she doesn't know Tomokawa Kazuki or Mikami Kan, outsider folkies from the '70's. Gonna mail her a package of CDRs. Tomokawa recently appeared in Miike Takashi's Izo, a sprawling, bizarrely philosophical samurai action film with surrealist moments -- Tomokawa sorta serves as a chorus, his bleakly passionate ballads commenting on the action, his screams lingering after he's off screen.
I got into trading language learning stories with one of the percussionists, I think he was, from Gamelan Alligator Joy (featuring two Javanese guests and Western Front curator D.B. Boyko). He told the audience earlier in the evening that he’d walked around Java telling people a phrase that transliterates from Javanese as “sweet dreams,” having learned the word for “sweet” and the word for “dreams,” and assuming they would, when smacked together, mean the same thing. He in fact was wishing people wet dreams, not sweet ones. Or just asserting “wet dreams” without it being clear it was an item of well-wishing, which, in a way, would be stranger. I approached him later while waiting for the sitar player to come on and told him that I had liked the story. I then explained that I spent weeks in Japan, mistaking “furo” (bath) for “fukuro” (bag), and thus telling shopkeepers that I didn’t need a bath, or, worse, asking them to give me one.
This led to a fun segue to a story about travelling in Vietnam, I think it was, where the tonal aspects of the language make it very easy to say, when you want to be sayin’ “Is this meal vegetarian?”, the far-more loaded phrase, “I intend to leave without paying.” Leading to such great conversations as:
“What would you like, sir?”
“This looks good, but I intend to leave without paying. Is that okay? I intend to leave without paying. There's no meat in this, right? Do you understand?”
I played the final card – my best, a possibly apocryphal tale off (a forum for expats-and-teachers-in-Japan) Big Daikon (where I ride again as Pemmican): A young man wanted to ask his coworker, “Shuumatsu ni, nani o shimashita ka,” which translates as “weekend on, what (object marker) did you do?” He approached his coworker’s desk and smiled and said instead "shuumatsu ni, onani shimashita ka?" -- becoming indignant when his coworker looked at him in shock and horror. The Japanese, you see, have this flexible little syllable “o,” which can move around in sentences – this is a very easily-made error. By putting the “o” in the wrong place, the young man had unconsciously stumbled into the Japanese borrowing from the English word, onanism, meaning he’d asked his coworker, in very polite tones, if he had masturbated on the weekend:
"Excuse me, did you masturbate this weekend?”
"Eh!?”
Even more unfortunate, the Japanese-learner got a little frustrated at his coworker’s inability to understand his simple, perfectly grammatical question: so he repeated it louder, so everyone could hear.
It’s easy enough to compile and chuckle at goofy phrases Japanese learners come up with when they attempt to speak English (the “we-play-for-MacArthur’s-erection” syndrome). I’d like to hear more from native English speakers who fuck up when trying to learn Japanese…
Anyhow, I haven’t abandoned the blog, just haven’t had anything I wanted to write here. Plus Big Daikon has been keeping me busy. I’ll have more to say presently – maybe after the Laurie Anderson show on Sunday night.
Saturday, November 06, 2004
United States of Canada
Gwynne Dyer speculates on an unusual solution to the current divide in America: about half the US should join Canada. There's a funky little image of a map designed thus that's circulating on the web right now -- the northern half of North America is labelled "the United States of Canada," with most of both coasts of the current US become part of the US-Canada hybrid; there's an area below identified as "Jesusland," incorporating the southern states. Alas, I can't seem to upload it onto my blog. E-mail me if you'd like a copy to send to friends...
Now I know what it's like when the head is cut off from the body
Apparently there's a new wave of beheadings going on worldwide -- terrorists like the shock value that cutting off someone's head has. Three policemen in Haiti were found headless; it's being called Operation Baghdad. Meanwhile, people online are collecting and disseminating these images -- which I personally don't want to see; much as it seems to be one of the defining images of our time (yay!), I'm just not masochistic enough to want this stuff rattling around in my head. I watched the Berg video until they took out the knife -- then I left the room while a friend of mine finished it. The sounds were bad enough.
There's a history of beheadings here, if you like.
I recall somewhere reading that often when heads were cut off by guillotine they would blink and show signs of life for some time after being removed.
There's a history of beheadings here, if you like.
I recall somewhere reading that often when heads were cut off by guillotine they would blink and show signs of life for some time after being removed.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Jandek live!
Jandek played a live show! In Glasgow, unannounced! Holy cow! (It's about two weeks old, this news -- but what can I say, I miss stuff sometimes).
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
John Pilger has a good article on the current state of things immediately pre-election -- check it out. Also a well-written piece by Justin Podur on Znet today. To offer sustenance in a dark time, by clarifying its nature...
Condolences, for what they're worth
It doesn't make me feel too much better right now, either, but we do have to note that in SOME quarters of the world, the swing to the right in the US is bein' balanced by a swing to the left. Spain, say. Canada has approved o' gay marriage and is possibly gonna legalize pot. There's a huge revitalization of the left, tho' it's looking a little haggard this week. (Stumblin' around the office trying not to really think about it too much, drinking when it gets home.) And hey, the impending Apocalypse probably won't be all bad, either.
Me, the cheeriest thing that I've read today was that Dallas has elected a Hispanic lesbian sheriff. The first ever! Like th' folks at Yahoo made that a headline just to cheer some of us up a bit. Thanks, guys.
I wanna see it made into a TV miniseries, myself. The Lupe Veldez Story. Michael Moore could direct.
Hey, Annie Sprinkle e-mailed me today! Hi, Annie!
And Hungary pulled out of Iraq.
Me, the cheeriest thing that I've read today was that Dallas has elected a Hispanic lesbian sheriff. The first ever! Like th' folks at Yahoo made that a headline just to cheer some of us up a bit. Thanks, guys.
I wanna see it made into a TV miniseries, myself. The Lupe Veldez Story. Michael Moore could direct.
Hey, Annie Sprinkle e-mailed me today! Hi, Annie!
And Hungary pulled out of Iraq.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Cynical, but hoping it's just my problem
I feel this doomed sense of certitude that G.W. Bush is gonna win. I've consoled myself, below, with the possible good results of a Bush victory, but my mood today is more grim than hopeful. One of my coworkers said today, as we chewed over our sense of what's gonna happen, that he simply cannot believe that evil will triumph over good, that there will be four more years of darkness. Much as I admire his optimism, I don't share it. First off, it seems more of a case of evil triumphing over mediocrity -- I can't get that hepped up for John Kerry; secondly, well, I guess I'm just less certain of justice in the universe. I've had it out online -- mostly on Big Daikon -- with Bush supporters, and I know how stupid and entrenched in their xenophobic, media-manipulated bubbles they can be. Christ, I hope I'm wrong. Think I should find a bar to watch the results at -- I want to have a couple of beers in me when the news finally breaks.
Monday, November 01, 2004
Jim VanBebber's THE MANSON FAMILY
Sweet Jesus, I have seen the most frightening film I've ever encountered. The most ambitious movie I've seen in years, one for which I have considerable respect; and one which I will be very interested to see the public response to, should it ever be distributed en masse in its present form: Jim VanBebber's The Manson Family, the closing show at the Cinemuerte Festival. (Film Threat interview with VanBebber here -- also features a really amazing image of Maureen Allisse as Susan Atkins). It took years to make, required great struggle on the part of the filmmaker, and shows love that is far greater than that of a craftsman. Not the love of a Manson devotee, either -- "I'm not Nicholas Shreck, I don't save his toenail clippings," the director clarified during the post-film Q&A -- but the love of someone truly fascinated by his subject matter and determined to capture the truth of it. Tho' VanBebber claimed not to care about the reactions of the Family, or of anyone, really, to his film -- "it's a work of art... buy the DVD and shit on it if you like," he's standing behind his work -- he does try very hard to capture what it must have felt like inside their heads; extends them far more sympathy than some viewers will be comfortable with. The filmmaker draws us in very carefully and lets us experience, insofar as any film could, what it must have been like to orgy on acid with the Family, using their own accounts and words wherever possible; once we've linked our subjectivity to its characters, followed them with some degree of understanding and sympathy into the darkness, we're then to ask us what it must then have felt like to stab people repeatedly about the face and shoulders, or to listen to a woman beg for the life of her unborn child before killing her. The violence is brutal and allows for a certain tone of dark revelry, such as the Family members presumably felt on their missions to murder. It's scary as hell that any human being could do such a thing... but that's kinda the point; I haven't seen violence on film that left me quite this uncomfortable since I shut off Last House on the Left in mid-viewing, the one time I attempted to watch it.
Only one of the audience "comment's" during the Q and A was negative, and this is where it focused: "that is the most violent film I've ever seen" (to which the director replied, "bullshit," drawing some cheers and laughs). I asked VanBebber if he worried about anyone's reaction -- how the victim's families might feel, for instance -- but he either feels no concern -- feels like his responsibility is to his art and subject matter alone -- or else is not 'fessing up in public to it. He's within his legal rights in everything he's done, or so he says, and sees this as history and art, self-justifying. He put it somethin' like, "Are the families of Pearl Harbour survivors going to sue Michael Bay for his shitty movie?" ...the man has brass balls, or somethin'. Personally, I'd have a very hard time making any work of art that could dig as deeply into unhealed wounds as this one does.
I think I'm gonna spend a lot of my freetime during this next week probing the 'net for public reactions to this film. I suspect there are some strong ones out there. Roger Ebert describes it thus: "This is not a 'horror' film or an 'underground' film, but an act of transgression so extreme and uncompromised... that it exists in a category of one film -- this film." Tho' I'm not sure that the film itself is transgressive -- unless trying to capture accurately the experience of people who transgress is a transgressive act unto itself, which I suppose it may be -- Ebert's review is actually a far better place to read about the actual contents of the film than this blog, but what can I say, it's late (2 AM) and I need to be up for work in about four hours.
Cinemuerte is dead again for this year. Long live Cinemuerte! I think this is gonna turn into my favourite Vancouver festival...
Only one of the audience "comment's" during the Q and A was negative, and this is where it focused: "that is the most violent film I've ever seen" (to which the director replied, "bullshit," drawing some cheers and laughs). I asked VanBebber if he worried about anyone's reaction -- how the victim's families might feel, for instance -- but he either feels no concern -- feels like his responsibility is to his art and subject matter alone -- or else is not 'fessing up in public to it. He's within his legal rights in everything he's done, or so he says, and sees this as history and art, self-justifying. He put it somethin' like, "Are the families of Pearl Harbour survivors going to sue Michael Bay for his shitty movie?" ...the man has brass balls, or somethin'. Personally, I'd have a very hard time making any work of art that could dig as deeply into unhealed wounds as this one does.
I think I'm gonna spend a lot of my freetime during this next week probing the 'net for public reactions to this film. I suspect there are some strong ones out there. Roger Ebert describes it thus: "This is not a 'horror' film or an 'underground' film, but an act of transgression so extreme and uncompromised... that it exists in a category of one film -- this film." Tho' I'm not sure that the film itself is transgressive -- unless trying to capture accurately the experience of people who transgress is a transgressive act unto itself, which I suppose it may be -- Ebert's review is actually a far better place to read about the actual contents of the film than this blog, but what can I say, it's late (2 AM) and I need to be up for work in about four hours.
Cinemuerte is dead again for this year. Long live Cinemuerte! I think this is gonna turn into my favourite Vancouver festival...
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Thoughts on the upcoming US elections.
It's one of the stranger things about living in Canada: you care more about the politics in your neighbour's country than in your own. It seems to be a given that who is chosen for president in the upcoming U.S. election will have a much greater effect overall on us than who we choose in our own elections, which have a vaguely pathetic aspect to them. I'm very interested to hear what happens. There's a website for people who are not US citizens to vote in the upcoming elections, I discover -- I haven't checked it out yet, but I like the idea of being able to see just how strongly anti-Bush the rest of the world is -- it'll bring into sharp focus just how deluded most Americans are.
Anyhow, here's my opinion about the upcoming US elections. Bear in mind that I'm becoming a bit of a leftie and that I get more of my news from Znet than from Fox.
First off, let me make it absolutely clear that if I were a US citizen, I would vote for Kerry. I understand why some people get pissed off at lesser evilism and do ridiculous things like vote for Ralph Nader. I mean, I don't trust Kerry, either; he seems like "Bush lite" to me -- he represents the same class and corporate interests, has got a basically pro-war, pro-exploit-Iraq platform, and wouldn't dare, politically, to speak out against the War on Terror in any principled way: he'll say that Bush miscalculated, etc., but never that the whole war is wrong or immoral, because he needs to appease the same people Bush needs to appease and can't afford to be seen as "weak." He'll play the same game, perhaps with a bit more skill; but he's still corrupt, dangerous, a bad choice for a world leader. The fact is, though: there is no better choice one can realistically make. Nader will not get elected. The Green Party will not get elected. Casting ones vote for Nader or the Greens will do in this election what it did in the last: help Bush. One needs to finally embrace lesser evilism: the system is basically a two-party one, so Americans, however much they might not like either candidate, should vote for one of the two parties; Kerry is less evil than Bush -- so I'd vote for him, no questions asked.
Here's the thing, though: I don't think I'll mind if Bush wins. I think he's grotesque, evil, dangerous, indeed. Here are some reasons why it might be better if Bush wins, though, for whatever comfort they might offer, should it happen that the American electorate lets us down:
1. IF KERRY WINS, THE WRONG PEOPLE WILL GET THE BLAME WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. (I'm indebted to mate Alan P. for most clearly articulating this point of view in an e-mail correspondence). The disaster in Iraq has not yet completely revealed itself. We don't know what the worst possible consequences will be of it yet. There has been relatively little impact for the US thus far: some soldiers have died, some people have had their heads cut off in a horrible way, but the war has basically been "just more TV" for most Americans. There hasn't been a major terrorist strike on US soil since the war started, there hasn't been a draft instituted, there hasn't been any nuclear terrorism as of yet, and the terrorist actions that have happened, in Spain or Thailand or so forth, as responses to the war on terror, have been relately low key and not too apparent to most Americans. I am pretty sure that there WILL be another Sept. 11-type attack if the US government continues its current policies, whether it is a Bush government or a Kerry government -- because both will continue to do more or less the same thing in Iraq. I'm pretty sure there will be other big and bad consequences yet to be seen, including some of those mentioned above -- maybe even a draft. Unfortunately, when these bad things eventually happen, the government that's in charge at the time will be the one who will be blamed for it. I would rather Bush be in power, because then he'll get the blame. If there's a Kerry government, they'll be accused of mishandling the war on terror, and most Americans will be frightened and stupid enough to believe it, rather than putting the blame where it belongs. If the Democrats win, they'll be the ones to suffer the consequences when things go bad. Better Bush wins, so that he'll be in power to reap what he's sown, so that there is no confusion about who is to blame for it; it's better for long term change.
2. BUSH HAS BEEN A DISASTER FOR THE UNITED STATES, AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. This is something I was delighted to see John Pilger more or less agrees with me on, by the way. George W. Bush has united (or at least considerably stimulated) the US left, has destroyed any sort of positive international reputation for the United States, and has laid bare just how corrupt and fucked-up US foreign policy is. It was possible,under Clinton -- if you weren't paying close attention, since Clinton himself did some horrible things worldwide -- that the US was some sort of benign giant, who genuinely wanted what was best for the world. Just how self-serving and destructive their foreign policy has been for decades has been typically something perceived and written about only by a very small minority -- by the William Blums, Howard Zinns, Noam Chomskys, Michael Parentis out there -- who are regarded more or less as cranks by the mainstream. That has all changed under Bush, who has been so transparently an imperialist that he's done genuine damage to the US' reputation and brought to light quite a bit that was not being given mainstream publicity in the US. Bush has, paradoxically, validated radical politics and made it possible for "cranks" like Michael Moore to become world celebrities by articulating these minority views.
Kerry will not be as bad for the world or for the US as Bush, but maybe in terms of this election, bad is good. That is, maybe what's BAD FOR THE U.S. IS GOOD FOR THE WORLD; maybe if Bush wins and continues his project of miltary/capitalist adventurism abroad -- neverminding what he's done at home -- it will cause BIG enough disasters, stir up sufficient protest, galvanise the opposition to such a degree that there will be a more FUNDAMENTAL change in the United States in the future -- a change much, much bigger than the one we'll see if Kerry wins the election.
I'd like to see a bigger change than the one Kerry represents. However less evil he is than Bush -- and it is clear that he is -- he won't make any radical departures from Bush's platform. He can't, because he HAS TO REPRESENT THE SAME INTERESTS. Kerry can't afford to alienate the military industrial complex, the rich, or corporations like Lockheed Martin or Halliburton any more than Bush can afford to do these things; he is hardly committed to "ending US exploitation in the Third World." He'll be less obvious about things than Bush, will be more skillful, more diplomatic -- but that's not necessarily a good thing. In order for a fundamental change to happen in the way the world is run, it's probably for the best that Bush wins.
Of course, that means willing disaster on the world. I'm saying Bush is more likely to bring on the apocalypse, but -- as worried as I am by discovering the following sentiment in me -- maybe an apocalypse is what we need. The world -- America -- has grown too complacent; even Sept. 11 hasn't woken everyone up yet; the evil that makes Bush possible has become too entrenched in the US system for it to be driven out by a priviliged military nonentity like John Kerry. I don't want there to be further disasters like Sept. 11 -- don't get me wrong -- but I DO WANT CHANGE, and maybe if Bush wins, it will mean, in the future, there will be BIGGER AND BETTER CHANGES than the ones we'll see if Kerry wins.
That's how I'm preparing to console myself if we see a Bush victory in the US, which seems a very real possibility. Like I said, if I were an American, I'd vote for Kerry. VOTING AGAINST KERRY IS VOTING FOR THE APOCALYPSE. But the apocalypse might not be all bad, in the big picture. Even horrible, self evidently evil things -- from Sept. 11th to Bush's war in Iraq to the possibility of "another" Bush win -- can sometimes have good consequences. It's all a matter of perspective, innit?
Anyhow, here's my opinion about the upcoming US elections. Bear in mind that I'm becoming a bit of a leftie and that I get more of my news from Znet than from Fox.
First off, let me make it absolutely clear that if I were a US citizen, I would vote for Kerry. I understand why some people get pissed off at lesser evilism and do ridiculous things like vote for Ralph Nader. I mean, I don't trust Kerry, either; he seems like "Bush lite" to me -- he represents the same class and corporate interests, has got a basically pro-war, pro-exploit-Iraq platform, and wouldn't dare, politically, to speak out against the War on Terror in any principled way: he'll say that Bush miscalculated, etc., but never that the whole war is wrong or immoral, because he needs to appease the same people Bush needs to appease and can't afford to be seen as "weak." He'll play the same game, perhaps with a bit more skill; but he's still corrupt, dangerous, a bad choice for a world leader. The fact is, though: there is no better choice one can realistically make. Nader will not get elected. The Green Party will not get elected. Casting ones vote for Nader or the Greens will do in this election what it did in the last: help Bush. One needs to finally embrace lesser evilism: the system is basically a two-party one, so Americans, however much they might not like either candidate, should vote for one of the two parties; Kerry is less evil than Bush -- so I'd vote for him, no questions asked.
Here's the thing, though: I don't think I'll mind if Bush wins. I think he's grotesque, evil, dangerous, indeed. Here are some reasons why it might be better if Bush wins, though, for whatever comfort they might offer, should it happen that the American electorate lets us down:
1. IF KERRY WINS, THE WRONG PEOPLE WILL GET THE BLAME WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. (I'm indebted to mate Alan P. for most clearly articulating this point of view in an e-mail correspondence). The disaster in Iraq has not yet completely revealed itself. We don't know what the worst possible consequences will be of it yet. There has been relatively little impact for the US thus far: some soldiers have died, some people have had their heads cut off in a horrible way, but the war has basically been "just more TV" for most Americans. There hasn't been a major terrorist strike on US soil since the war started, there hasn't been a draft instituted, there hasn't been any nuclear terrorism as of yet, and the terrorist actions that have happened, in Spain or Thailand or so forth, as responses to the war on terror, have been relately low key and not too apparent to most Americans. I am pretty sure that there WILL be another Sept. 11-type attack if the US government continues its current policies, whether it is a Bush government or a Kerry government -- because both will continue to do more or less the same thing in Iraq. I'm pretty sure there will be other big and bad consequences yet to be seen, including some of those mentioned above -- maybe even a draft. Unfortunately, when these bad things eventually happen, the government that's in charge at the time will be the one who will be blamed for it. I would rather Bush be in power, because then he'll get the blame. If there's a Kerry government, they'll be accused of mishandling the war on terror, and most Americans will be frightened and stupid enough to believe it, rather than putting the blame where it belongs. If the Democrats win, they'll be the ones to suffer the consequences when things go bad. Better Bush wins, so that he'll be in power to reap what he's sown, so that there is no confusion about who is to blame for it; it's better for long term change.
2. BUSH HAS BEEN A DISASTER FOR THE UNITED STATES, AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. This is something I was delighted to see John Pilger more or less agrees with me on, by the way. George W. Bush has united (or at least considerably stimulated) the US left, has destroyed any sort of positive international reputation for the United States, and has laid bare just how corrupt and fucked-up US foreign policy is. It was possible,under Clinton -- if you weren't paying close attention, since Clinton himself did some horrible things worldwide -- that the US was some sort of benign giant, who genuinely wanted what was best for the world. Just how self-serving and destructive their foreign policy has been for decades has been typically something perceived and written about only by a very small minority -- by the William Blums, Howard Zinns, Noam Chomskys, Michael Parentis out there -- who are regarded more or less as cranks by the mainstream. That has all changed under Bush, who has been so transparently an imperialist that he's done genuine damage to the US' reputation and brought to light quite a bit that was not being given mainstream publicity in the US. Bush has, paradoxically, validated radical politics and made it possible for "cranks" like Michael Moore to become world celebrities by articulating these minority views.
Kerry will not be as bad for the world or for the US as Bush, but maybe in terms of this election, bad is good. That is, maybe what's BAD FOR THE U.S. IS GOOD FOR THE WORLD; maybe if Bush wins and continues his project of miltary/capitalist adventurism abroad -- neverminding what he's done at home -- it will cause BIG enough disasters, stir up sufficient protest, galvanise the opposition to such a degree that there will be a more FUNDAMENTAL change in the United States in the future -- a change much, much bigger than the one we'll see if Kerry wins the election.
I'd like to see a bigger change than the one Kerry represents. However less evil he is than Bush -- and it is clear that he is -- he won't make any radical departures from Bush's platform. He can't, because he HAS TO REPRESENT THE SAME INTERESTS. Kerry can't afford to alienate the military industrial complex, the rich, or corporations like Lockheed Martin or Halliburton any more than Bush can afford to do these things; he is hardly committed to "ending US exploitation in the Third World." He'll be less obvious about things than Bush, will be more skillful, more diplomatic -- but that's not necessarily a good thing. In order for a fundamental change to happen in the way the world is run, it's probably for the best that Bush wins.
Of course, that means willing disaster on the world. I'm saying Bush is more likely to bring on the apocalypse, but -- as worried as I am by discovering the following sentiment in me -- maybe an apocalypse is what we need. The world -- America -- has grown too complacent; even Sept. 11 hasn't woken everyone up yet; the evil that makes Bush possible has become too entrenched in the US system for it to be driven out by a priviliged military nonentity like John Kerry. I don't want there to be further disasters like Sept. 11 -- don't get me wrong -- but I DO WANT CHANGE, and maybe if Bush wins, it will mean, in the future, there will be BIGGER AND BETTER CHANGES than the ones we'll see if Kerry wins.
That's how I'm preparing to console myself if we see a Bush victory in the US, which seems a very real possibility. Like I said, if I were an American, I'd vote for Kerry. VOTING AGAINST KERRY IS VOTING FOR THE APOCALYPSE. But the apocalypse might not be all bad, in the big picture. Even horrible, self evidently evil things -- from Sept. 11th to Bush's war in Iraq to the possibility of "another" Bush win -- can sometimes have good consequences. It's all a matter of perspective, innit?
Friday, October 29, 2004
On Losing a Blog
Oh my God that was painful. I wrote this fun little take on the second night of the Cinemuerte festival, linked all the stuff I was mentioning, and then lost it all when I attempted to publish it. It's a horrible feeling. "You mean I have to write it all again?" Not right now, I'm still mourning the death of the first one.
Monday, October 25, 2004
Bad Joke I came up with today
A man walks into an inn with a broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other. The man at the front looks up. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here to sweep.”
The clerk looks at him, puzzled. “Pardon me?”
”You have wooms for went, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’m here to sweep.”
The clerk looks at him, puzzled. “Pardon me?”
”You have wooms for went, don’t you?”
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Bookscouting, Vox Festival
Bookscouting find of the day: Improvisation by Derek Bailey, the 1980 hardcover first edition of the avant-garde guitarist's study of improvisation in various cultural contexts. Not worth a lot but not something I'd ever expected to see -- paid a dollar for it at the Salvation Army. I love making finds like that. Tried to sell it for $20 to drummer Jean Martin at the Vox Festival -- he thought it was an unreasonable price, but hell, I ain't even read it yet. Offered me $10. I kept it. Too bad -- I got no cash to do the laundry now, I spent it all on CDs. I considered approaching Ron Samworth, who, of the guitarists in Vancouver, might be the one most likely to be interested in it, but I couldn't think of a natural enough approach, particularly given that he might have happened to remember me walking out of his show the other night (I liked what he was doing, it was his collaborator that I couldn't handle).
The Vox Festival was fun -- I'm sorry it's over. Maybe I need to find some other group to volunteer with -- maybe Blim, a new venue for minimalist/drone/ambient noise stuff out near Tinseltown. The guy who I manned the merch table with tonight is involved with them; he's talking about trying to get Nels Cline to drop by when he's in town with Wilco (why is Nels Cline playing with -- oh, nevermind. I know the answer). Manning merch tables, it turns out, seems to be a good way to meet the artists. Paul Dutton sat and shared anecdotes about his career -- he was warm and friendly and very willing to share. Koichi Makigami joked with us and did a cute doodle for me on the liner of one of Tzadik CDs; he was exuberantly playful. Wish I'd caught his show -- Paul called him "the Derek Bailey of the theremin." (Had I known he had a theremin with him!). Ami Yoshida and Sachiko M. didn't seem to speak a lot of English, but they were amused by my bad Japanese and were, well, fun to look at -- they dressed pretty colourfully and had more o' the Japanese "cute" thing going than I expected from avant gardists (well... mostly Sachiko. Cuteness and piercing sine wave manipulation are kinda odd things to place in one package). The Norwegian Maja Ratkje --who, of the performers I'd never heard of before, was by far the most interesting and prolific -- was pretty intense, but likably so, and she hinted about a return to Vancouver; the intensity of her performance scared a few people out of the venue, which she seemed pleased by. Listening to Fe-mail's Syklubb fra Haelvete (Sewing Club from Hell) as I type, one of Maja's projects. It's quite cacophonous, but in an oddly soothing way -- check out the samples on the album's website. Comforting noise, the harshness somehow necessary, relevant. Of course, they're pretty cute, too, on the cover Maja and Hild Sofe Tafjord -- but it seems more likely an ironic cuteness; Maja would look more at home in black leather than girly clothes, I suspect. I assume the pigtails are a Pippi Longstocking thing -- apparently they have a thing for Pippi.
I ain't really got much to say about the festival, tho', other'n'that. Cheers again to Vancouver New Music for existing. Now I guess I'll return to contemplating my relative isolation...
The Vox Festival was fun -- I'm sorry it's over. Maybe I need to find some other group to volunteer with -- maybe Blim, a new venue for minimalist/drone/ambient noise stuff out near Tinseltown. The guy who I manned the merch table with tonight is involved with them; he's talking about trying to get Nels Cline to drop by when he's in town with Wilco (why is Nels Cline playing with -- oh, nevermind. I know the answer). Manning merch tables, it turns out, seems to be a good way to meet the artists. Paul Dutton sat and shared anecdotes about his career -- he was warm and friendly and very willing to share. Koichi Makigami joked with us and did a cute doodle for me on the liner of one of Tzadik CDs; he was exuberantly playful. Wish I'd caught his show -- Paul called him "the Derek Bailey of the theremin." (Had I known he had a theremin with him!). Ami Yoshida and Sachiko M. didn't seem to speak a lot of English, but they were amused by my bad Japanese and were, well, fun to look at -- they dressed pretty colourfully and had more o' the Japanese "cute" thing going than I expected from avant gardists (well... mostly Sachiko. Cuteness and piercing sine wave manipulation are kinda odd things to place in one package). The Norwegian Maja Ratkje --who, of the performers I'd never heard of before, was by far the most interesting and prolific -- was pretty intense, but likably so, and she hinted about a return to Vancouver; the intensity of her performance scared a few people out of the venue, which she seemed pleased by. Listening to Fe-mail's Syklubb fra Haelvete (Sewing Club from Hell) as I type, one of Maja's projects. It's quite cacophonous, but in an oddly soothing way -- check out the samples on the album's website. Comforting noise, the harshness somehow necessary, relevant. Of course, they're pretty cute, too, on the cover Maja and Hild Sofe Tafjord -- but it seems more likely an ironic cuteness; Maja would look more at home in black leather than girly clothes, I suspect. I assume the pigtails are a Pippi Longstocking thing -- apparently they have a thing for Pippi.
I ain't really got much to say about the festival, tho', other'n'that. Cheers again to Vancouver New Music for existing. Now I guess I'll return to contemplating my relative isolation...
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Why I don't intend to write about local music on this blog
(Written in re: the first night of the Vox Festival. See the previous entry, below, for context).
Damn, Kate. I'm sorry. It's bad form to walk out on any performance. I mean, it's okay, I guess, if you really gotta go to the washroom or something, but we didn't. Liz was really tired and she did have to get up at six in the morning and she and Blake had to make the ride back to Maple Ridge and she is a difficult woman to say no to, as I imagine you might be, yourself, so perhaps you'll understand... But we could've stayed, regardless. I feel bad. Particularly since I got in free, and am a volunteer with the festival. Like I should've been more loyal, y'know? Local artist, and a woman at that -- how many female avant-gardists are there, anyhow? I could show some support for the few that are around, particularly if they're from this city (Actually, that was more Liz's guilt-trip than mine, but it's a respectable one). Really, I did like some of what you were doing. The first Campfire Songs thing -- I liked that one! And sometimes the subtler sounds you made blended nicely with Mr. Samworth's guitar effects. It would be interesting to try to articulate in detail why your performance overall didn't work for me, when superficially at least you and Paul Dutton (whose performance I greatly enjoyed, and who actually did enjoy what you were doing, unlike me) were doing stuff that was of a piece... But really I'd rather just keep my mouth shut and say I'm sorry I snuck out. Hope the rest of the show went well.
I did get one really important thing from observing my reactions to this evening. I've realized, to my shock, that I think there's an off chance someone somewhere (other than my friends and family) might actually read this blog someday. I had never really considered the possibility, or that my awareness of it might change how I wanted to present things. There's this unexpected feeling of responsibility suddenly settling on my shoulders: since I'm in a public venue, and since I intend fully to write about music on this site, I feel like I've got to weigh my words with a little bit more care than I'd initially planned on using when it comes to the local scene.
There's stuff I've been itching to express, stuff that pisses me off, though, that's hard to stifle -- taboo disloyal opinions about some of the performers here, complaints and whimpers and pleas; from wanting to beg Dylan van der Schyff to hit a little less forcefully to wishin' Peggy Lee would plink less and play more (sorry, Peggy! Actually, I own two of your CDs, really), I got all sorts of stuff I could run off at the mouth about. Maybe it would be good for someone to say some o' this in public. I seldom enjoy gigs by local musicians; perhaps a bit of diplomatic griping might serve to...
I mean, part of me just wants to screech out the most non-acceptable things, y'know? That Vancouver is a friggin' backwater and would do well to admit this to itself; some local artists seem to have the most grotesquely inflated opinions of the worth of what they're doing, presumably because their standards of comparison are so, uh, local. I mean, our inferiority complex has made morons and rogues of us... Even the population stats that we calculate the city's size on are based on lies, designed solely to push us into the top 5 list of Canadian cities, to put us on the map, as it were (because nothin' else will; trees and mountains do not a cultural mecca make). It's nice that we have aspirations, I guess, but we also have an abundance of mediocrity out there, and the worst offenders take themselves so seriously, are so precious (thanks for the adjective, Blake: it's a good one) about what they do that y'just want to slap them. Tell' em to go spend a weekend in New York or London or Tokyo or...
But who am I kidding? Ranting in this vein would do little more than to get me looked at in a nasty way by the few musicians out there who are actually trying to do something different and new; it would make me enemies and few friends and invite the question, who the hell do I think I am, anyhow? I mean, who cares if I, some shmuck ESL teacher, think the scene here is too small, too incestuous, too vain, too full of itself; if --
So you know what? The local scene is its own problem, not mine. I'm gonna fall back on the old saw about not sayin' anything if you got nothin' nice to say -- or occasionally enthusing about local music that I do like (I think the Pretty Sad Band were the last gig I really had any fun at; there's a band that understands the virute of humility). Sure, it would be great if our one real jazz club dusted off its notions of jazz and acknowledged free, funky, and avant-garde takes on the form; if there were more places where interesting music happened (note to self: must check out Blim); if people woke up and realized that it takes more than the pretense that one is an artiste to make a concert enjoyable. But there's only so much that I'm prepared to take on. It sucks that what this probably means is that I'll spend most of my blog time writing about visiting performers, instead of homespun ones... But so be it.
You know, I like living in Vancouver. Really. And it's been a good year, concert-wise. I'll keep y'all posted if I actually hear something from this town I like. Who knows, maybe tomorrow at the Vox Festival...
Damn, Kate. I'm sorry. It's bad form to walk out on any performance. I mean, it's okay, I guess, if you really gotta go to the washroom or something, but we didn't. Liz was really tired and she did have to get up at six in the morning and she and Blake had to make the ride back to Maple Ridge and she is a difficult woman to say no to, as I imagine you might be, yourself, so perhaps you'll understand... But we could've stayed, regardless. I feel bad. Particularly since I got in free, and am a volunteer with the festival. Like I should've been more loyal, y'know? Local artist, and a woman at that -- how many female avant-gardists are there, anyhow? I could show some support for the few that are around, particularly if they're from this city (Actually, that was more Liz's guilt-trip than mine, but it's a respectable one). Really, I did like some of what you were doing. The first Campfire Songs thing -- I liked that one! And sometimes the subtler sounds you made blended nicely with Mr. Samworth's guitar effects. It would be interesting to try to articulate in detail why your performance overall didn't work for me, when superficially at least you and Paul Dutton (whose performance I greatly enjoyed, and who actually did enjoy what you were doing, unlike me) were doing stuff that was of a piece... But really I'd rather just keep my mouth shut and say I'm sorry I snuck out. Hope the rest of the show went well.
I did get one really important thing from observing my reactions to this evening. I've realized, to my shock, that I think there's an off chance someone somewhere (other than my friends and family) might actually read this blog someday. I had never really considered the possibility, or that my awareness of it might change how I wanted to present things. There's this unexpected feeling of responsibility suddenly settling on my shoulders: since I'm in a public venue, and since I intend fully to write about music on this site, I feel like I've got to weigh my words with a little bit more care than I'd initially planned on using when it comes to the local scene.
There's stuff I've been itching to express, stuff that pisses me off, though, that's hard to stifle -- taboo disloyal opinions about some of the performers here, complaints and whimpers and pleas; from wanting to beg Dylan van der Schyff to hit a little less forcefully to wishin' Peggy Lee would plink less and play more (sorry, Peggy! Actually, I own two of your CDs, really), I got all sorts of stuff I could run off at the mouth about. Maybe it would be good for someone to say some o' this in public. I seldom enjoy gigs by local musicians; perhaps a bit of diplomatic griping might serve to...
I mean, part of me just wants to screech out the most non-acceptable things, y'know? That Vancouver is a friggin' backwater and would do well to admit this to itself; some local artists seem to have the most grotesquely inflated opinions of the worth of what they're doing, presumably because their standards of comparison are so, uh, local. I mean, our inferiority complex has made morons and rogues of us... Even the population stats that we calculate the city's size on are based on lies, designed solely to push us into the top 5 list of Canadian cities, to put us on the map, as it were (because nothin' else will; trees and mountains do not a cultural mecca make). It's nice that we have aspirations, I guess, but we also have an abundance of mediocrity out there, and the worst offenders take themselves so seriously, are so precious (thanks for the adjective, Blake: it's a good one) about what they do that y'just want to slap them. Tell' em to go spend a weekend in New York or London or Tokyo or...
But who am I kidding? Ranting in this vein would do little more than to get me looked at in a nasty way by the few musicians out there who are actually trying to do something different and new; it would make me enemies and few friends and invite the question, who the hell do I think I am, anyhow? I mean, who cares if I, some shmuck ESL teacher, think the scene here is too small, too incestuous, too vain, too full of itself; if --
So you know what? The local scene is its own problem, not mine. I'm gonna fall back on the old saw about not sayin' anything if you got nothin' nice to say -- or occasionally enthusing about local music that I do like (I think the Pretty Sad Band were the last gig I really had any fun at; there's a band that understands the virute of humility). Sure, it would be great if our one real jazz club dusted off its notions of jazz and acknowledged free, funky, and avant-garde takes on the form; if there were more places where interesting music happened (note to self: must check out Blim); if people woke up and realized that it takes more than the pretense that one is an artiste to make a concert enjoyable. But there's only so much that I'm prepared to take on. It sucks that what this probably means is that I'll spend most of my blog time writing about visiting performers, instead of homespun ones... But so be it.
You know, I like living in Vancouver. Really. And it's been a good year, concert-wise. I'll keep y'all posted if I actually hear something from this town I like. Who knows, maybe tomorrow at the Vox Festival...
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Diamanda Galas, Paul Dutton, Vox Festival
Just returned from Diamanda Galas' performance at the Vogue theatre. I don't have much to say about the concert tonight -- it was intense; genocide sucks; she wasn't as skinny as I'd expected; the strobe lights were a nice touch; and I wish she'd taken me up on my invite to buy her chocolates and wine at Death by Chocolate after the show. Bought me a t-shirt and an extra signed pic for a friend who couldn't make it. Mostly I wonder if Ms. Galas will be sticking around to see Paul Dutton tomorrow night at the Vancouver New Music Vox Festival... I sincerely hope so. Dutton, who basically makes weird sounds with his mouth, has been the most exciting discovery of the year for me; he's been around for a long time, performing with CCMC, the Four Horsemen, Christian Marclay, and various other avant gardists. I've always been a fan of people who experiment with the human voice, but mostly it seems it's been women -- like Meredith Monk, say, or Diamanda Galas -- who have held my attention until now. Dutton offers something earthy, masculine, and most playful, and has amazing command of his instrument. He performed at last year's jazz festival in a jazz context (with drums and a horn player who I completely and unfairly forget) and I've been a fan since. Koichi Makigami, who has recorded on Tzadik and on a disc with Dutton, Phil Minton, and others called Five Men Singing, will be there too, and Kate Hammett Vaughan, whose more commercial work has kept me from wanting to see her til now... but it's only fair that I should finally give her a chance (typical of me to be reluctant to support the locals while I praise some guy from TO, eh? Bitching about the local scene in favour o' outsiders is, I suspect, a typical Vancouver characteristic, balanced out by those who take our teeny scene way too seriously). Hope there's a big turnout. The last time I volunteered for a New Music event I was able to score Yoshihide Otomo's signature... who knows what the perks will be this time, beside comp tickets? I wonder if Sachiko M. is single... ?
Monday, October 18, 2004
Bummed about Doug
My closest encounter with Doug Bennett was in the men's room of the Viper Room, a couple of years ago in Maple Ridge. (No, it's not that sort of encounter). I was waiting for a Doug and the Slugs concert to start. I was standing outside the stall, hoping to take a bowel movement before the show, but it was occupied. When the flush finally sounded and the door swung open, Doug Bennett came out. I made a little startled sound, and he glanced at me somewhat apprehensively, as if I would address him. I felt absurdly embarrassed, and hurried into the stall as he turned and left, me trying not to think of the nature of this particular encounter with celebrity as I sat ("why, just a few minutes before, his cheeks were pressed to this very porcelain ring.") So much of my concertgoing experiences have been forgotten over the years, it's bizarre to me that episodes like this stand out.
The whole night was a little strange by me, in fact. Having grown up a huge fan of Doug and the Slugs first two albums -- and I still maintain there are more than a few moments of brilliance on Cognac and Bologna, that it's as good a record as has been made in Canada -- I couldn't help but have mixed feelings about the show. Doug was clearly in decline. (I'd actually had to leave the venue the previous time I'd tried to see him play, in Port Moody -- it took me awhile to get used to the idea of someone who seemed so stylish and self-possessed at one point in his life -- I'm imagining the liner photos for the LP version of Wrap It! -- seeming so indifferently dressed, so cynical about what he was doing, so large). That night at the Viper Room, he abused his audience playfully, with considerable showman's skill (at least by the standards of a drinking establishment), but there were moments where it didn't seem entirely in jest -- he returned again and again to joking bitterly about his divorce, and talked about his hopes at various points in his career to "never have to play pissholes like these again," for instance. At one point he gave a pat answer to a heckler, "Shut up -- half our routine now is me talking about how fat I am." He made sure, whatever he was feeling, that his audience had fun -- doing his "Viagra" routine to the tune of "Gloria," engaging people in a singalong of the Rolling Stones "Satisfaction" (for which his voice was indeed perfect), and bringing audience members on stage for the "bum solo" at the end of the night - but I'm pretty sure he would have rather have been somewhere else. Or perhaps rather have been someone else. Someone who'd made money, who had been a bit better appreciated, whose success had meant more in dollars and cents. Perhaps someone who had albums still in print -- there isn't a single title of theirs currently available on CD, to my knowledge, and not even a file card on the shelves of local CD stores to mark their absence.
See, I don't blame Doug if he was cynical towards the end. I liked the guy a lot, even on that night -- he had humour and style and he did what he was being paid to do and did it very well -- but there was something heartbreaking about it all. Doug had a great voice, great lyrics, and wrote some very, very good songs in his day. Sure, they're not the ones you hear on the radio, now -- from Music for the Hard of Thinking on, the band grew considerably more compromised in their attempts to mine the top-40 and secure an income for themselves. It was never as bad as "Your Body is a Wonderland" or such crap, and when I'm in a waiting room somewhere being forced to endure some soft-rock station, it's a positive relief to have "Who Knows How to Make Love Stay" or any such lesser Slugs numbers come on, since they still retain just a little bit of the style and humour and intelligence of the Slugs at their peak. But those are the only stations that one still hears such tunes on, and that's not that much of a legacy -- not when meaningless meatheads like Bryan Adams are making millions of dollars churning out programmic pap. On the strength of that first disc alone, Doug SHOULD HAVE BEEN our Tony Bennett, our singin' Raymond Chandler, an icon, a man with secured fame and wealth. At age 50, he simply shouldn't have still been playing little clubs in the suburbs, entertaining bald men in baseball caps and women in tight jeans with 80's hairdos and tanlines on their exposed cleavage... Doug deserved better. We as Canadians failed him. The Province, this morning, hailed him as "legendary," but if this is what happens to our legends, we're in a sorry state indeed.
Anyhow, I'm sad he's gone. I'll spin Cognac and Bologna tonight and smile yet again at "Just Another Case" and shiver yet again at the mood evoked by "Tropical Rainstorm" and say some sort of goodbye. Maybe "Drifting Away" will take on a new meaning. I'll think about my own inevitable decline -- I'm just some shmuck ESL teacher, ultimately -- and wonder if I'll last any longer than he did. 52 is damned young. If we cared more about our artists, maybe he'd have had another 20 years to offer us...
Anyhow, now that he's dead, maybe some of Doug Bennett's discs will come back into print. It kinda sucks that nothing less would have moved us to acknowledge him, tho'.
The whole night was a little strange by me, in fact. Having grown up a huge fan of Doug and the Slugs first two albums -- and I still maintain there are more than a few moments of brilliance on Cognac and Bologna, that it's as good a record as has been made in Canada -- I couldn't help but have mixed feelings about the show. Doug was clearly in decline. (I'd actually had to leave the venue the previous time I'd tried to see him play, in Port Moody -- it took me awhile to get used to the idea of someone who seemed so stylish and self-possessed at one point in his life -- I'm imagining the liner photos for the LP version of Wrap It! -- seeming so indifferently dressed, so cynical about what he was doing, so large). That night at the Viper Room, he abused his audience playfully, with considerable showman's skill (at least by the standards of a drinking establishment), but there were moments where it didn't seem entirely in jest -- he returned again and again to joking bitterly about his divorce, and talked about his hopes at various points in his career to "never have to play pissholes like these again," for instance. At one point he gave a pat answer to a heckler, "Shut up -- half our routine now is me talking about how fat I am." He made sure, whatever he was feeling, that his audience had fun -- doing his "Viagra" routine to the tune of "Gloria," engaging people in a singalong of the Rolling Stones "Satisfaction" (for which his voice was indeed perfect), and bringing audience members on stage for the "bum solo" at the end of the night - but I'm pretty sure he would have rather have been somewhere else. Or perhaps rather have been someone else. Someone who'd made money, who had been a bit better appreciated, whose success had meant more in dollars and cents. Perhaps someone who had albums still in print -- there isn't a single title of theirs currently available on CD, to my knowledge, and not even a file card on the shelves of local CD stores to mark their absence.
See, I don't blame Doug if he was cynical towards the end. I liked the guy a lot, even on that night -- he had humour and style and he did what he was being paid to do and did it very well -- but there was something heartbreaking about it all. Doug had a great voice, great lyrics, and wrote some very, very good songs in his day. Sure, they're not the ones you hear on the radio, now -- from Music for the Hard of Thinking on, the band grew considerably more compromised in their attempts to mine the top-40 and secure an income for themselves. It was never as bad as "Your Body is a Wonderland" or such crap, and when I'm in a waiting room somewhere being forced to endure some soft-rock station, it's a positive relief to have "Who Knows How to Make Love Stay" or any such lesser Slugs numbers come on, since they still retain just a little bit of the style and humour and intelligence of the Slugs at their peak. But those are the only stations that one still hears such tunes on, and that's not that much of a legacy -- not when meaningless meatheads like Bryan Adams are making millions of dollars churning out programmic pap. On the strength of that first disc alone, Doug SHOULD HAVE BEEN our Tony Bennett, our singin' Raymond Chandler, an icon, a man with secured fame and wealth. At age 50, he simply shouldn't have still been playing little clubs in the suburbs, entertaining bald men in baseball caps and women in tight jeans with 80's hairdos and tanlines on their exposed cleavage... Doug deserved better. We as Canadians failed him. The Province, this morning, hailed him as "legendary," but if this is what happens to our legends, we're in a sorry state indeed.
Anyhow, I'm sad he's gone. I'll spin Cognac and Bologna tonight and smile yet again at "Just Another Case" and shiver yet again at the mood evoked by "Tropical Rainstorm" and say some sort of goodbye. Maybe "Drifting Away" will take on a new meaning. I'll think about my own inevitable decline -- I'm just some shmuck ESL teacher, ultimately -- and wonder if I'll last any longer than he did. 52 is damned young. If we cared more about our artists, maybe he'd have had another 20 years to offer us...
Anyhow, now that he's dead, maybe some of Doug Bennett's discs will come back into print. It kinda sucks that nothing less would have moved us to acknowledge him, tho'.
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