Not quite sure what to call it…

 

As I was finishing with the last of Walter Benjamin’s 1933 writings (the last was “Experience and Poverty”, which is about, among other things, the poverty of experience that we are/were enduring in our/his modern times), a buttered piece of raisin wheat bread from Mary’s Market and an as yet untitled Irish Coffee variation (unfortunately some bar in the Pacific Northwest has already coined another of their cocktails as Spanish Coffee, which was my first thought).  This one was made with the wonderfully sharp Empress 1908 Elderflower Rose Gin, but I imagine that any gin would sharp up your morning coffee to make for an enjoyable day of leisure.

Next week I start full-time work for the first time in some time, but today I’ll enjoy a bit of the life Ibiza… Afternoons, and coffee spoons. Maybe some T.S. Elliott...

What a Difference a Score Makes...

 It occurred to me this morning*, while I was driving around listening to A History of the World in 6 Glasses, and a reference was made to Sumerian transaction records of beer disbursement (think stone spreadsheets) in the 21st Century BCE, that we get further away each century (and each decade, and, indeed, year) from our Mirror Year (i like to say it in my head so it rhymes!) - the equidistant year on the opposite side of the very arbitrary Moment Zero - and therefore, likely, know less and less about each mirror year than we did previously.

Last weekend I had the opportunity at Gary Con to play two sessions of Gary Gygax's post-TSR role playing game, Dangerous Journeys, which is set on Ærth, an alternative historical Earth, and (in these sessions and in the primary sourcebook of the game) takes place in a version of Ancient Egypt.  As part of character generation in the game, you (can) roll for all aspects of your lot in life, as we all do as we're being rolled up - your level of wealth, parentage, personal traits and peccadillos, as well as physical and mental abilities - and that rolled lot in life affects how you bumble through the world.  The GM didn't explicitly say it, but we easily could have been setting out on our adventure in the year 2024 BCE.

I've been thinking about life in the modern world versus what life might have been like in earlier generations (and even ancient - when does ancient start by the way? - generations), and how someone from one might settle and mettle in to another...  As I started to dig in to the 21st Century BCE, I did find that there was a lot less that we seemed to know (according to our repository of all knowledge, Wikipedia) than even one century later in the 20th Century BCE.  This biasedly confirmed my original take that we will always continue to know less than we did about our mirror year (or more so our mirror century, as in any given year big things can {and do} happen to let them stand out), but I had just been considering that, due to an increase in academic inquiry and improved methodologies and overall knowledge, I would have expected instead to find some kind of equilibrium of knowledge of our mirror year.

Although the highly arbitrary mid-point was only invented around 500 CE (aka AD), I think it's not too much of a stretch to think that people living in the first few centuries of the Common Era were, while certainly aware of the goings on of their immediate ancestors, in terms of civilizational history perhaps comparatively even as to our own knowledge of our own mirror year.  Traditional Western history had the idea of a Dark Age prior to the European Renaissance, however at that same moment Arabic cultural, scientific, and philosophical civilization was preserving the ancient knowledges of earlier Ancient Greek tradition.

I think we like to think that our modern situation makes us special (exceptional, as it were), and that we are uniquely positioned to understand and judge not only our forebears, but also our less geographically-fortunate (shall we say) contemporaries.  Every age thinks of themselves as Enlightened however, and only when we have some time distance do we start to suspect that an era may not have been all that.  I don't, however, think that that interim of time is necessarily the century (or centuries) of retrospect that we might think, historically.  I wonder if it really might be closer to just 20 or 25 years or so that we can really start to intelligently reflect.  

Which means, depending on when we want to mark our start of our foolish historical moment (whether it's the 2016 election of a game show host as president; the first as tragedy, then as farce "Tea Party" elections of 2010; the launch of Twitter in 2006; or more depressingly perhaps the height of dumb cancel culture, which hopefully is in our past, but not sure how far back...), we may have quite a wait yet, or be close to the moment when we can finally get a grasp of what we've wrought...

* I've helpfully charted my core sentence in this paragraph in purple...

What is it That Must Be Said?

 I've just finished an obscure essay of Walter Benjamin's about art history, and approaches to the study of art (but also the study of literature and also history and even, somehow, botany) that may turn out to be among the most profound, and, at our current moment in history, among the most important of all of his writings.

At first glance, he seems just to be in the weeds of an argument about whether a new 'modern' interpretation of how to do art history has replaced the 'classical approach' of antiquity in the early 20th Century, but I think he is more gesturing toward his eventual theories of conceptualizing history and the great potential of the fragment, which are already in his mind, but he hasn't clearly articulated in 1932 when he's writing this essay.

"So began a train of thought that I am no longer able to pursue.  But its last link was certainly much less banal than its first..."

"..., and led on perhaps to images of animals." (is perhaps less than the conclusion for the pull quote that I was hoping for, but there it is).  This quote is actually not from the essay I was talking about, rather from the subsequent one in the collection I'm reading, "Hashish in Marseilles", but it hits on (or is at least adjacent to) what I am finding here (here in this post, and all around the whole blog generally).  That is, that when I start to write a post that is trying to get across an idea (rather than one that's just a response to something or a compilation), I begin a train of thought that turns in to a (compelling) black hole of ideas that starts to connect to and pull in whole bunches of texts and ideas that I'm reading now or have done in the distant or recent past, and the connections and rhymes and implications become bigger (and yes, less banal), and better, but begin bouncing beyond my basis from back at the beginning of the post.  And so I pull up short in all of these begun, and possibly one day done posts, which I occasionally open up, and ask myself, "what was this one going to be about again, really?"

But maybe not this time - if I just decided to say what I meant to say, instead of going back and being sure I was saying the best way I could or should - 

And so, Walter Benjamin was writing in the early days of an era of crisis, 1932 in Germany, and he was of a generation of artists (and of Artists, if you subscribe to the Strauss-Howe generational theory, which I do for the moment, having recently finished The Fourth Turning is Here, by Neil Howe) who had thought to shake up and change the world with their avant-garde art and politics and thoughts only to watch it all seem to begin to unravel as they were entering middle age and the crisis era was ramping up and threatening to destroy the whole world. 

That generation of, not just artists, but all walks of life, came of age just in time to witness (and largely participate in) the horrors of World War I, and then bask in the wonders of the Roaring Twenties, and seemed to be living through a time that would see things on the upswing and a world forever changed (in this case, cured of war) while at the same time harboring deep divisions and animosities that were being largely glossed over (rural poverty versus Flapper culture; Teetotalers getting Prohibition passed in America... versus Flapper culture {and mobster culture!}; race stuff...).

That era of the 1930s is having a moment, not just because it's the Nazis and World War II, and it's always what our stories turn to.  Rather, Neil Howe would suggest that we are in a parallel historical moment of crisis now, starting with the 2008 Great Recession (he marks that previous crisis era starting with the 1929 Wall Street Crash, and through to the Great Depression, and through the conclusion of WWII).  As Benjamin, a Jew writing in 1932 Germany, he's in the midst of the crisis, but seemingly doesn't know it yet.  So too we, here in 2024, can't tell what the nature of the real disaster we are about to experience will be.

We feel like we know who some of the main characters of the coming disaster might be: Vlad Putin seems a good candidate for a villain on that side of the pond, and we have our own possible seat filler over here, oranger and dumber to be sure, but not that much less menacing.  But we don't have any idea, yet, how this one turns out over the next decade or so... whether it's another world war, like (and very much unlike) the last one that ended the last crisis cycle (for the record, Star Trek future history records World War III {or 3, as we may have progressed beyond a time when we can rely on most people to be able to read Roman Numerals...} as starting in 2026, and 2024 is among the most tumultuous years in all of Star Trek history), or perhaps this cycle will end in another American Civil War of some kind, like the one that ended the cycle prior.  Or perhaps it's something wholly new, that we haven't even considered before that results from improved AI or Quantum Computing or ____________.

But we're here for it, and if history rhyming (or repeating itself) is indeed a thing, better days are ahead (but after a big terrible thing first... sorry.) 

You have no idea the torment and torture...

 So, I saw Madame Web yesterday with my bro, against my better judgement (but well within my completionist tendencies...), and while it was mostly very much no good as expected, I had the chance to couple it with a new (to me) kaiju film on Max: Invasion of Astro-Monster.

While I'm not a massive connoisseur of kaiju films, I understand the formula (albeit almost as much from Mystery Science Theater 3000 as from seeing them on the their own).  I get that you're not meant, necessarily, to question the structural logic or motivations of characters in kaiju, but when that kaiju half of your Double Feature Challenge is the movie that rings truer, has characters with more realistic emotional lives and motivations, and more intellectually satisfying plotting, then if you are ready to embrace the camp and absurdity of your day of movie-watching, you could, potentially, be in for something of a treat... probably not, but I'll see if I can unpack it here a little bit.

 The post title here is a line from one of the more obscenely, absurdly dumb sequences in all of Madame Web, where our villain, Ceiling Guy is lying in bed (just like Brian Wilson did) with a woman who he just met, and we are meant to believe seduced a scene earlier at the opera by picking up a piece of garbage from the floor and handing it to her, then watching some of the opera.  This woman who is seduced by Ceiling Guy('s I wanna say evident sensitivity or intelligence {or possibly wealth?} because he's at an opera), turns out to be a spy who no one will miss or notice that her password is being used 24/7 by Ceiling Guy's ??Executive Assistant?? to access every camera in the city (in the world?, it's never quite clear), and our Spy Woman's susceptibility to sleeping with 'super' villains moments after meeting them is only the second dumbest thing about this whole sequence.  The worst by far is Ceiling Guy's continued use of the phrase "you have no idea..." or "if you only knew..." or such similar to imply that he has good reason for doing all the dastardly things he's doing, but really only serves to have the viewer say, "right, I don't know... are you ever going to show my or hint at some further reason?..., but no, they aren't going to.

The aliens from Planet X (Xiliens) by comparison have pretty clear (if insanely overcomplicated) motivations...  Upon revealing themselves to the human astronauts, they befriend them by sharing their deepest fear of King Ghidorah (a giant, flying, laser / lightning spitting monster), and then ask for Earth's help by loaning them Godzilla and Rodan (I'm not sure why, exactly, they wouldn't then just be harried by G & R if they succeed in chasing KG off)...

With kaiju, the camp is baked in - to be expected - and even if Madame Web wasn't made meaning to lean in to the camp, I think if you watch it the same way you might watch a kaiju film, there's something here to enjoy.  It's dumb (like, for some reason no one ever goes looking for a stolen taxi and first aid solely consists of chest compressions... just do that forever, and you can save anyone, no matter what has happened to them), but if you just go with it, and assume that they're doing all of this intentionally for comedic affect, I think it might actually be enjoyable.

My advice, if you're taking on this challenge is 1) drinks, lots of drinks; and 2) start with Invasion of Astro-Monster, and then move on to Madame Web, to sorta get you in the mood...

Top Five (or so) Christmas Movies

 In the grand tradition of holiday list making, I offer my list of absolutely go to every year holiday movies to watch, and when.  Brooke and I have differing tastes for these, so I (and she) end up watching a lot more that maybe wouldn't make our own lists, but here we go with: 

Top Five Christmas Movies!: 

1. Elf (this one lands near the top of both our lists)
2. 
   Love Actually (after some post Me-Too hemming and hawwing over this one, I've brought it back into my fold - of course not every character is fully virtuous nor all their actions blameless, but name me an interesting movie where that is the case! It's such an overall emotional build-up, absurd and completely unrealistic and I love it!)
   
   Both of these first two movies are ones that we often first watch early on in the season, and then again closer to Christmas Day (although Brooke's love of #2 has not recovered much after taking a hit around 2017...
   
   
3. Die Hard (Sorry, Obama, but this is definitely a Christmas movie, and it's a banger!)
4. National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
5. The Holiday

I'll finish this post later, but wanted to get it up and running to start the conversation!... 

It’s really a Medieval Fair…

 We’re now Ren Faire adjacent people - 2 years running, that counts, right?  I am pretty sure that I have the capability to be an all out-in on Cosplayer be it LARP-ing or theater or more RenFaire situations, but I married in to a life where it was quite clear early on that I wouldn’t be allowed  (it was a different time …), and over the years I’ve gotten her to a place where she’s the one who gets us to the Renaissance Faire, not me…

Forget about trying to parse this but it’s a bridge (classical construction), over an ancient (or perhaps Anthropocene-constructed, hard to tell) body of water. It certainly feels like it all might collapse whilst we traversed (so again hard to say if that’s a product of it being so old or too modern and flawed because of the curse of capitalism…)

There was a man, a man named Crack, Adam Crack (it might’ve been Ethan), and woh, could he whip. Whipped it good, he did. This sounds underwhelming (or at least whelming, in Europe, if Clueless is to be believed ), but it was not only a whip show, but a fire whip show, and like time, you add fire in front of anything and it improves, measurably.

And yes, it mostly was, but we were at the Ren Faire (Fire Ren Faire?) and so looking forward to good stuff that we were part of a pretty amazing demographic. 

The highestLight was by far was the Dungeons & Shakespeare show, which brought four willing and thespic Fairegoers up on stage to randomly choose Shakespeare characters from across the Ouvre or monsters from throughout the Manuals (or the Folio, presumably), and act out the Host’s (Public DM?s) narration as Regan from King Lear teamed up with
The Nurse from Romeo & Juliet to defeat a bugbear en route to find The Necronomicon locked away high in an Elven tower guarded by Yeti who killed them. 

And then over by the jousting fields, we find The Insult Artist who spends all day hurling insults at the humans who step up to thrown tomatoes at him. 

It’s definitely my people. 

Row, Row, Row your Desk!

 I have the privilege today to be taking part in what I expect will soon become the hottest new trend in remote work and a bold new path in the search for true work life balance, the Canoebicle.

As work itself has become more and more absurd, with the very latest trends of the corporate landscape^ on the one hand beginning to mimic the trappings of the educational system that many of the trendier employees have so recently left behind, while at the same time seeking to fulfil a kind of performative community of woke third space, the need arises to find creative and restorative outlets for working in your own context.

I have been a long time advocate for the Work-From-Canoe lifestyle as an option, to allow people a better work / canoe balance.  I am glad that, at last, Leinenkugel's has decided to recognize this important demographic.

Having been a pioneer in Work-From-Beach, Work-From-Motor-Boat-With-Questionable-Fuel-Line, Work-From-In-Laws'-Driveway, and Work-From-Bar lifestyles long before it was made all the rage by the COVID-19 Pandemic, I appreciate the opportunity to be a part of this bold new experiment. 

^ I know I know what you're all thinking is that, "Joel, you don't really have a real job anymore do you?  And haven't had for a few years now?  Who are you to critique working conditions in America?"  And while this may be technically true, in the overeducated white middle class sense that I have not been invited back into the corporate life after my untimely demise, I am still an observer of the lifestyle (that is, having jobs), and I feel connected to the current moment of work