Dylan Ratigan: It's Complicated

Dylan Ratigan’s really good “rant” should make us all think.  How is it that the entire foreign policy of the most powerful country in the history of civilization is directed around the actions of a small and scattered group of people tucked into the mountains and deserts in the Middle East? You want the short answer or the long answer?

Out of Touch

Lebron James is out of touch. Since announcing his decision to leave the city of Cleveland in an hour long televised spectacle aptly named “The Decision,” Lebron James has demonstrated exactly the degree to which he’s out of touch. In fact it’s clear that he’s been out of touch for some time. Those who’ve had the pleasure of discussing this topic with me over the previous 7 years are well aware of my opinion/criticism of the man, which has centered on the very idea that King James has been walking around wearing a crown well before any actual coronation ceremony. There can be no ignoring the fact that Lebron is an outstanding basketball talent and easily among the best players in the NBA, but he has yet to be and may never be the best of his era or of all time. Yet both the media and James’ behavior led many people to believe otherwise, and in turn that’s exactly what caused the basketball superstar to use an hour of America's time so he could take his talents to South Beach.

Artistic Abstraction

Ever wonder what happened to realist art? That is, art that depicts real people or real situations etc... Probably not. Nevertheless, what did happen to it, and why do we live in a world dominated by abstract art. The art many people look at and think, "a child could have painted this." The art that draws the reply most people think of when they think of art nowadays,..."I don't get it." Well we live in a world dominated by abstract art because the CIA made it that way. There's no political point here, just a fascinating story. Something to think about the next time you happen to be looking at an abstract piece of art and the person next to you is raving about how it makes them feel, or is proffering their deep intellectual insight to the beauty of some abstract piece and how it *ahem* speaks to them. You don't have to feel bad if you don't get it. Maybe it has less importance as a work of art, than it does as a symbol of history. After all, much of the works of the Renaissance say just as much about the Catholic Church during that era as they do about art as an art form. If that last sentence (like abstract art) even makes sense. Fascinating.

The Ideas Department: Female Crash Test Dummies

Who would have thought that a female crash test dummy would be a good idea?...40 years after someone should have thought that a female crash test dummy would be a good idea? I don't know the answer to that question, but I do find it strange that the Transportation Department made through 40 years worth of meetings without anyone bringing this up. Sorry ladies.

Notes on a Soundtrack

I'm finding a lot old writings that are piquing my interest. This little gem comes from 2006 and I completely agree with what it says. Make sense since I wrote it.

Some songs are just good songs--that is they sound appealing. Some songs are good songs that seem to suggest a certain imagery or properly convey a certain emotion--in a way that words can't--to given situations. These songs make excellent soundtracks, and fit in perfectly with your favorite scene in your favorite movie. Then there are songs which strike the nerves of reality. These songs are very similar to the former, however their meaning goes deeper.
These songs compile the soundtrack to life. Not to some story that someone imagined in
their mind, but to reality. To existence. To whatever it means to live. Some good songs will make you listen. Other good songs will make you dream, others make you think, and others still make you feel. Really good songs make you do all of the above whether you intend to or not. You listen to good songs, you live with really good songs. That dreaming, thinking, and feeling...they're all there. I recently listened to a certain song and it captured in its simple acoustic melody everything I had been thinking and feeling and dreaming. My whole life was there, sung in under 5 mins. Everything I couldn't explain to the outside world I listened to the song tell me. It didn't change my life. Which is not the burden of such songs, and I don't believe is the aim of really good songs. Good songs don't cause you to quit your job and move your family across the country in a motor home to follow your dream of being a pillow salesman.
Good songs realize that like everything else good in this world, they are incapable of making the change--that is left up to you. However they simply act as a place of solitude for those planning their next attack. Simply put, truly good songs always seem to understand. These songs are able to do this because they are able to find that thin little strip of connection in the universe where what's inside of a person and the reality around them meet. Those of us who listen to to these songs don't care what the artist gets out of making music. It seems we want the artist to make the music for us. The genre and style of the music is unimportant. The man/woman themself even seems insignificant. Which hardly seems fair. Yet it is. I believe this music shouldn't be made for the fans either. This music should be made for that little strip where internal consciousness and external reality meet. These songs are made so that they may have eternal rest in their home and you have a scenic rest stop on your journey.

I don't know what song I was talking about b/c I wrote that 3 years ago, but here's one that I'll pick for now...
Case # 287:

Happiness

A very interesting article found in this months Atlantic Monthly describing a longitudinal study at Harvard. The study started in the 40's and is, as the article notes, probably the longest and most in-depth studies of happiness ever recorded. Here's a short video of the man in charge of the study discussing its findings, and the article can be found here.

Party Crasher

During the months of September and October my evenings were consumed at the Bowling Green Democratic Headquarters. The building itself was an almost all too ironic metaphor for the Democratic party: a small light blue, old, unimpressive, albeit quaint house located on the southern side of Main street. It was every bit American as any other headquarters for any organization, but it lacked a certain physical sense of purpose needed to carry out its well intentioned function. The headquarters for a major political party looked more like your grandmothers house than a venue of political action and activism. I was told there was an old lady that rented a room in the "attic." Other evenings I shuttled up to Toledo and worked out of the plumbers union. The experience was interesting at best, but didn't rack up a lot of points in the excitement department. I know this because I've forgotten much about the those evenings huddled over phone list, directing seventy year old women who had never seen a cell phone, much less used one, on how to make calls from the phone bank. The work was strangely similar to the house we did it in, unimpressive. Yet recently I stumbled on something I wrote while in the heat of the battle. It reflects a different time and reveals the only important thing I took from the experience. I never finished it and thus never fully developed the point I was trying to make, but as it stands it still makes sense.

I've spent the better part of eight weeks working for the Democratic Party of Ohio in the thick of one of the most important midterm elections in a generation. My evenings have been spent shuttling around northwest Ohio to various political activities on behalf of what is increasingly becoming the opposition party in this country of ours. I've called upwards of 1,000 local voters, attempted to contact every high school in Lucas County (Toledo) in search of young volunteers, and hit the ground spreading the word about the encouraging promise of Democratic candidates seeking a mandate to eclipse the one Bush proclaimed for himself after the '04 election. The election is in exactly two weeks and I have the privilege of watching it all unfold from a box seat. It seems like a win-win situation, but as the old saying goes nothing in life is free. What's it costing me? A comprise of my well manicured political beliefs that are rooted in hours of reflection and what I like to think is deep intellectual introspection. Am I a Democrat? I'm sure as you-know-what not a Republican and in our political system that makes me a Democrat. Am I a party loyalist? I'm more of a party crasher.
A friend that I work with, that I gather shares most of the views that I do, also shares a preference for international politics rather than domestic. While sitting at the plumbers union (local 50) one evening our boss was informing us of one of the issues on the ballot this year: Issue 2. Issue 2, which is to raise minimum wage, garners support from most people when you ask them. After she told us what issue 2 sought to raise the minimum wage to, my work companion belted out, "holy crap that's high," and I couldn't help but respond with laughter. Looking back the two of us laughing for as long as we did with such emphasis was probably a bit distasteful.
Our rather liberal boss, an extremely attractive female who only graduated from UT last year, replied with a look that seemed to undress both of our fake Democratic loyalist clothing......

Essentially I learned that I'm a political orphan. A believer in our political system with no place to worship. My kind?, we're not welcome here. The raising of minimum wage is something I fully supported, however I still like a pinch of practicalism with my politics. That instance demonstrated to me that there is little to no room for practical thought in politics. My laughter signified, not that I was opposed to raising minimum wage, but that it seemed a little high...as a matter of practical thinking. I still supported it (Issue 2 passed). However, my bosses reaction and the dissertation she gave us on minimum wage that followed, revealed that domestic politics is a tow-the-line game. At the very least its not a thinking man's game at the lower levels. But then what job is? Even still, you would think that issues concerning our nation, issues that effect all of us, would be debatable from the grassroots level up to the halls of congress. I guess not. In a strange way I understand what Bush meant when he said, "you're either with us or against us." While it may seem crude, lacking a certain poetic tack and brashly simple given the circumstances, Bush understood something that the average person doesn't however ever unfortunate it may seem. In today's world....that's politics.