We know, U.S. Republican Party.
We know that it was you who built and brought down the house of cards that was the Iraq War, the Mortgage and Credit Bubble, and the deregulated Wall Street massacre to create the biggest American financial quagmire in nearly a century.
We know that it’s been you who has built the lion’s share of our $13 trillion deficit by cutting taxes on the rich, starting an illegal war in Iraq, spending nearly $10 trillion off-budget to fill your own military-fueled financial interests, and digging a hole so deep that we’ve had to have emergency sessions to protect the world’s biggest economy from a bankruptcy you yourselves have master-minded.
The Dragon Knows
We know that it’s not just disingenuous of you to claim that Barack Obama is the cause of these economic and social maladies. We know that it’s not just politics or gamesmanship. We know that what you’re doing is nothing short of Orwellian double-speak, a well-poisoning lie crafted from your ever-expanding conservative dogma of lies — The War on Terror, The War on Drugs, Tax and Spend Liberals, Obama’s failed policies, The Liberal Media. On and on and on. We know how easily, ruthlessly, and consistently you perpetrate these lies, and we know for whom they are intended.
We know the reason why you are willing to spend money on everything under the sun except education, the arts, and social remediation. We know why you hate the idea of making medicine more affordable and why you would sooner blow up the world than share all the money you make on guns, oil, bombs and death with the people whose sacrifices have given you the opportunity to control their money and their futures.
We know what you mean when you question the “birthplace” of Barack Obama. We know that even a century and a half after the Emancipation Proclamation there are many of you would love to have, in addition to all of your money, land, capital and power, the ability to make people who are not like you, whom you believe to be inferior, your servants. And we know that you have as many code words to mask your racist polemics as you do political maneuvers to make sure that the value of equality is as far from the American social dialogue as you can possibly displace it.
We know how much you hate everything that isn’t you or of you. And we know that it’s that hatred that, thanks to you, has brought much if not all of the Republican generated, completely unnecessary hardships we are facing in this country today.
We know that the political candidates you have trotted out for the 2012 election are easily the most shameful lot this nation has ever seen. Having set the bar so incredibly low with George W. Bush, you have managed to offer us nearly of a dozen “hopefuls” who are – in defiance of logic and taste – as utterly lacking in intelligence, morality, integrity, good ideas and human warmth than W. and his angry overlord Dick Cheney.
We know that a two-man Republican race between Mitt Romney and Newt Gingrich is akin to asking Dan Quayle and Karl Rove to compete in a winner-take-all mud wrestling contest to determine who gets to run for the world’s most powerful elected office. And we know why you give your constituents choices that pit Mean vs. Dumb while the rest of us try valiantly to clean up the mess you selfish ultra-conservatives have made.
And finally, we know that while all of us are ultimately responsible for the condition of our country and world, past, present and future, and we all need to work together to fix these problems, the obstructionism shown by the Congress and the subjectivity displayed by conservative judicial nominees has kept us stuck in a ditch while you figure out how to achieve your one and only political objective: taking back The White House.
We know. Yes, we know, and we know something else. We know you’re not getting away with it. We know that ultimately you probably won’t nominate Mitt Romney because he’s a Mormon and your parochial and prejudicial character won’t stand for it. And we know that you probably will nominate Newt Gingrich because he’s a good old boy who will viciously attack President Obama and continue to perpetrate the veil of confusion you find infinitely more expedient than hard work and good ideas.
We know that your brand of anti-dialogue with racist undertones is as dead as the military-industrial economy you keep valiantly trying to resurrect. We know that an old, mean, hypocritical racist like Newt Gingrich is going to fight like a hungry pig with rabies but ultimately fail because he has no good ideas that look forward. At all.
And we know that, in spite of the obfuscation, the doublespeak, and the cries to the contrary, the faster we move your bad ideas to the dustbin of history, the sooner we will accelerate what President Obama has already accomplished — preventing a depression, staunching the economic bleeding, and slowing the unemployment rate that exploded under Bush/Cheney by shifting resources from the over-compensated back to the under-represented 99%. And attempting to shift the burden of the biggest debt in the history of humankind back to the people who created it: you, the selfish, the mean, the mercenary rich.
We know. We know, Republican Party. We know, Tea-baggers. We know, Mitt and Michelle. We know, Newt and Herman, how you use your power to make up for your shortcomings as men. We know, Rick Santorum, you racist. We know, Sarah Palin, how much you like to kill things. We know, John Boehner, crying man, that your entire agenda is to obstruct and defeat Obama. We know, Big Media, why you’d sacrifice the free speech of everyone to recoup a few million dollars you’ve been too lazy to earn with innovation, the way that Apple does.
We know. And because we know, we will succeed.
HERMAN’S MONSTER >>> Truly enjoying what a total freak show the Republican presidential nominations race has turned into. It’s a glimpse into the mediocrity and meanness of a party that has done nothing but bottom-feed on American politics, economics and society for nearly half a century. Trickle-down allusion intended.
Watching sociopath Michelle Bachman and insane zealot Rick Perry wind up like so much fly carcass on the windscreen has been almost as much fun as watching career Neanderthal bureaucrat Mitt Romney be overlooked for being too progressive. That we’re now on Newt Gingrich’s turn to get thrown under the bus is almost a step up for the party. The best they got is a guy who was exposed as a lying hypocrite culture assassin 14 years ago is a definite upgrade, especially from Horny Pizza Guy.
What more can you say about HPG Hermain Cain? Hand caught in the cookie jar, he did what every modern American politician does: Lie, Deny, Lie, Deceive, Obfuscate, Spin, Lie and Deny. Notice that he’s NOT ONCE admitted to any wrong doing, or given any legitimacy to the legion of women lining up to say he groped, fondled, made a pass at, or successfully bedded them. That’s not just what these politicians do, it’s what their “brain trust” tells them to do. And they do it. And it’s not working.
Did Herman get Thomased, or did Clarence get Cained?
The only real way to handle these messes – and when I say mess, I’m talking about the *astonishing revelations” that this guy who merely seemed incompetent and unqualified is also a dog and a hypocrite – is to resign oneself to the truth. If the truth ain’t enough to get the job done, get another job. It also reminds me how close the word “election” is to the word “erection” in the English language. Think about it. Not for too long, though.
IS THAT THE BEST YOU GOT? >>> Whether it’s Newt Gingrich, or Mitt Romney, it really doesn’t matter and won’t next November. The bigger issue, and problem for Republicans, is something President Obama pointed out in his excellent 60 Minutes interview Sunday night. Today’s Republican agenda is not just antiquated and out of date (as it has been for all of my lifetime). It’s simply, straight up dead wrong about the application of capitalism in America.
Having pumped guns and the military for years beyond the time it was economically prudent to do so, Conservatives have successfully kept all of American oil resources safely under the control of the private aristocracy. Under George W. Bush they won and are still winning the battle to “deregulate” the American economy, and the direct result is the chaos that exists in the country and the world today.
Against all logic, societal benefit, and Darwinian law, America has remained dogmatic about so many things over the years. Religion. Creationism. Guns. Taxes. Deficits. But the biggest dogma of all is that Capitalism is some sort of perfect machine, something we need to enable, grease the skids, and give it (as a concept in dialogue, as a tool for preserving individual mega-wealth in practice), and it’s killing us. Literally.
And if you don’t agree, please refer to Karl Marx’ epic, thousand-page logical dissertation “Capital” that explains, in detail, how incredibly disastrous that would be for any society. If you haven’t read it yet, please do so immediately (I’ll wait…). When you get that what is happening was pre-saged to the letter by a Russian scholar over 100 years ago, you would agree that any political party that espouses continuing to move money to the upper class under the current set of economic conditions is choosing to steer the entire world straight into the abyss.
This goes for Republicans, NeoCon and other-wise, and the whole Libertarian movement, which will never be able to reconcile its give the money back ethos with a $15 trillion dollar debt. Anti-Tax Conservatives continue to throw every piece of fiscal spaghetti to the wall in hopes that it will stick without considering the one, simple, straightforward solution that not only makes sense but might even work — raising taxes on every class of income earner who can afford it. And that’s the way it is, and no Republican or Libertarian who makes raising taxes a non-starter can solve these issues any other way.
And because the conservative agenda, controlled by the likes of Grover Norquist, is not able to escape a fiscal dogma that can only doom us to failure, Barack Obama’s willingness to confront this faulty logic with plain speak and common sense is going to succeed both in theory and in reality. Look it up. Read the book. I don’t have to make it up because it was figured out by someone very smart a long time ago.
Mitt Romney may be very competent. Newt Gingrich may be very clever. Neither of them will be able to overturn the tenets of logic. And that’s why whoever wins the Republican presidential nomination in 2012 will lose the presidential race to the President next fall.
OCCUPY EQUALITY >>> The best thing about the Occupy Movement, which apparently was broken up by an unholy alliance between the Executive Office, Department of Homeland Security, and state and local governments, is that it has gotten the world, and by the world, I mean people who aren’t getting rich from big government-business, talking, thinking, and doing.
The key for the Occupy 2.0 is to not just be about doing something, it should be about having a purpose, an agenda, an achievable goal. Too many times, when the lights shone on a protestor and the questions asked, “What are you doing here, what do you want?” the long pauses and blank looks from the questionees betrayed the lack of focus of the cause.
No reason to pan or ban, as our government and all who pledge allegiance to the Fox Television Network have done. But it is a tremendous opportunity to draw up an action plan and talking points with punch and bite so that when the spotlight shines, participants can take advantage of the occasion and bring the dialogue to any and all sympathetic, interested parties who are watching.
Sample Brief statement: I am here to call attention to the inequalities in our country, and the rest of the world. It’s unfair that all the money and opportunities go to the richest 1% among us, while the working class suffers. I want politicians to stop helping themselves and start helping all of us, or we will get new, better politicians who will fix the system the greedy have broken. Go to www.occupyequality.com and check out our list of recommendations to improve our country.
Boom! Even I could remember that with a light shining in my face.
GOING VEGGIE >>> Every time I have a vegetarian day, that is, a day when I eat no meat products of any kind, I always feel better at night and in the morning when I wake up. No exceptions. For the rest of this year and into the next I plan to do this more and more. Because I really like feeling good.
CRISIS GOVERNMENT >>> Another To Do on my list is to read The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein. I have seen her on a wide variety of talk shows, and agree that her theory of how governments move our electorate and manufacture submission is a dominant paradigm of the new millennium. So I want to know more.
I study news, politics, and the markets, attempting to find an objective set of sources from which to draw information. The one thing I continue to notice is how all these monstrous “crises” that continue to befall, or almost befall, “us” somehow magically always manage to massively benefit politicians and the upper class before they also somehow magically are brought under control.
In the case of recent global economics machinations, the people who trigger the crisis are one and the same with the people who heroically resolve the issue. By rewarding them with more power and re-election, it is like thanking the school bully for dunking our collective heads in the toilet, flushing, then “rescuing” us before we drown. This is a cycle of abuse that needs to end and end soon. I’ve grown tired of watching as world politicians continue to give The People a Socio-Economic Swirly.
OBSTINANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER >>> Watching Chris Paine’s “Who Killed The Electric Car?” (again) and it never stops surprising me to see straight up video of Ronald Reagan’s heartfelt determination to dismantle even the slightest environmental protections. Other memorable moments include George W. Bush’s canard proposal of the hydrogen “alternative”, a multi-multi-trillion dollar non-starter conceived to fail when even tiny incentives to increase hybrid development could save so much, so much sooner.
Also priceless, the uncomfortable shuffling of the Big Auto Execs when Bill Clinton tells an electric car joke, and the sweet, innocent faces of Alaskan Caribou juxtaposed with W. proposing drilling in the wildlife refuge as an option to decrease oil dependence. Sometimes I feel like I’m so busy hating NeoCon policies for waging war on our present day lives that I forget to be angry about how profoundly and effectively they’re also raping the future.
THAT’S LIKE .01% >>> Trying to figure out who Lexus thinks is going to be buying a new car as a Christmas gift. Either they’re trying to target the 1% of the 1% who has enough cash lying around to drop $50 Gs on a present, or they’ve completely run out of ideas on how to sell cars to people in December.
GOT MY MIND MADE UP >>> I am finally climbing down off the fence on this one. I definitely, for sure, hate like that stupid T-Mobile girl. All dressed in pink, gangly as heck, with that phony, girl-next-door smile. You just know she’s a monster on the set when they’re shooting those ads. Probably only eats pink M & Ms.
Yep, Pink T-Mobile Girl is a symbol for everything that’s wrong with this country, and the world. With so many unemployed, it’s an affront to human decency that she has a job. I would like to see her fired, and her salary donated to the homeless. Or is it possible that I’m taking the whole thing too seriously?
HEAVY ROTATION >>> Defunct!, Lazy Rich, DJ Hero, Meleefresh, Wireless Mice.
<3 or $$ ?? >> Contemplating the future of my beloved St. Louis Cardinals now that Albert Pujols has migrated to Southern California. As a prominent St. Louis native who now also lives in the Southland 
, I can say that you can take the Man out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the Man. His bat may be in Anaheim, but his heart will likely never be the same.
Who knows what the next 10 years will bring for baseball’s brightest light? Selfishly, for me, I’m now only a 50 minute drive from watching the Best in the World ply his craft. I’d just rather have seen him do it in Cardinal red than Angel red. Funny, when you look at the numbers, adjusted for cost of living, CA state and property taxes, he’ll probably be no wealthier than he’d have been with $40-50 million less in St. Louis.
Who can blame a guy – when offered a guaranteed quarter of a billion dollars to play a game for the next 10 years of his life – for opting to receive a little more pay, job and no-trade security, and the ability to improve his longevity with the option of being a designated hitter? Not to mention that the weather here, especially in the summer, is fairly delightful. If you can stand the Anaheim smog effect.
The biggest difference King Albert is going to feel in the years ahead is the nature of the fans when his team is at home. St. Louis fans always were at the very least among the best in the game, before and during his time as a Cardinal, and I don’t see that changing in the after-Pujols era. Granted, Anaheim fans aren’t nearly as surly and belligerent as L.A. Dodgers’ fans, who proved themselves the worst in history on opening day last year.
Life is short, and people (having stuff be-damned) are what it’s all about in this world. So no matter what you get to have and hold, it’s who you got to share it with that matters most.
LAMAR’S LAMENT >>> Poor Lamar Odom. Married, with children, a reality star, basketball hero, and 6th man of the year in 2011 and the LA Lakers still wanted to trade him to get the best point guard in the game. That didn’t sit well with Lamar, so when his trade for Chris Paul got nixed, rather than breathing a sigh of relief, swallowing his pride and continuing to do his job (things we working people do every day of our lives), he let his ego and emotions take over and requested another trade. This one, to the Dallas Mavericks for which the Lakers received virtually nothing, will stick. So rather than staying in LA, Lamar gets to move to the armpit of the universe where his famous wife is going to be very very unhappy. More proof to the pudding of be careful what you wish for. And yet another reminder that cooler heads prevail, and hot heads go to Texas.
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Making a Difference
Steve Jobs the Boss was known for his authoritative leadership and intimidating style. It was said you might find yourself in an elevator on the campus at Infinite Loop, any elevator, alone with Steve, and the door would shut and you’d be thinking, “I’m alone on an elevator with Steve Jobs. What do I say to him?”
And just as you open your mouth to utter the smartest thought in human history, Steve might stop you in your tracks and demand to know: “Why are you here?”
“I test iPods,” you, a devoted, highly intelligent Apple Employee would tremble.
“WRONG!!!” Steve would roar back, “The iPod is testing You!!!”
And you’re fired. By Steve. In a recession. With the next Jobsian Juggernaut about to launch. Now you’re going to have to wait in line with all the other lumpen Apple Fanzoids to get it.
Well, you couldn’t have been too smart. You got into that elevator.
One of the greatest traits we can have is to learn. In addition to moving a lot of money and a lot of brilliantly designed, massively functional gizmos Steve Jobs engaged and opened a lot of minds — including his own — on a regular basis.
The man learned from his mistakes. He compromised his vision at Apple, was politically out-maneuvered and almost saw the whole thing go down in flames. Almost. All before NeXT…regaining the reins…making the Devil’s Bargain with Microsoft…and engineering the greatest corporate turn-around in American history. Sorry Chrysler. You needed a government bailout. Jobs had Bill Gates, who owed him one.
Yeah he screwed up the Licensing thing. But he made up for it.
One day, much later in his insanely great, world-bettering life, Steve Jobs found himself once again in that elevator with another devoted, highly intelligent Apple Employee who also happened to be a big, wheezing, decidedly unaesthetic mess of a human being. “Uh oh,” muttered several intelligent Apple Inc. bystanders as they watched the elevator doors slide ominously shut.
But it was not the same Steve in the elevator this time around. Not the young, smart, entitled Steve Jobs with the authority to make the rank and file validate their own unlikely existence. This time, an older and wiser version with experience, humility, a more than passing awareness of his own mortality and infinitely more success under his belt approached matters in a different way. He demanded to know what was wrong with this guy who must be working like hell for us or surely he wouldn’t be here. What does he need?
Within a day, that very same Apple employee was headed to a nutritionist whose orders were to help the kid get to the bottom of what were apparently the long-term effects of allergies and a lousy diet. An almost fatherly gesture from the great Apple Chairman. Same elevator; different thinking. Much, much better result.
In the America of my childhood, of my dreams, of my heart, you don’t get to be the One in Charge standing in that elevator without a willingness to confront or unlearn even the most epic of your own most spectacular traits. And you surely don’t belong there if you don’t somehow, someday, some way develop enough empathy for the human being standing next to you to ask more than a single question.
So today, we’re back in that elevator. You and I. Because he is not able to, I will do Steve’s job. And I’ve got not one, but two questions for you:
1. Why are you here?
2. What do you need?
“The fault, Dear Brutus, lies not in the stars, but in ourselves.” – William Shakespeare, JULIUS CAESAR.
Formerly of Los Angeles, currently and at least for the near future of Las Vegas, the Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) is the biggest dance music festival in the world. Let me run that by you one more time, for effect: EDC is the biggest dance music festival in the world. And now it belongs to Las Vegas where they are very happy to have it. Which should be leaving the citizens of Los Angeles, once considered the music capital of the world, wondering why.
OK. You don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll tell you why. Because we the people of LA blew it, assisted by our politicians, and our local mainstream media.
Last year’s EDC drew over 190,000 people to the LA Colisseum in two days, a record until this year’s model. EDC 2010 was one of the best run big events I’ve ever seen or participated in, and I’ve been to some great ones: Coachella, Jazz Fest, Lowlands, Dance Valley, etc. EDC doesn’t have camping, and it does have a younger skewing audience. One of the big issues in 2010 was the 16 and over age limit. That was changed to 18 and over in 2011, a good move that made a big difference this year.
Royksopp rocks the live stage at EDC 2011
But the thing about EDC 2010, the event that led to Insomniac packing its tents and heading east to Sin City, was that in spite of it being a 16 and over event and despite the tragic death of an underage attendee (a 15-year old girl who had taken ecstasy and later suffered a head injury then subsequently died of complications due to over-hydration) EDC 2010 was every bit as good an event as EDC 2011.
The real difference between the two is that one took place in Los Angeles, a city that either doesn’t want or won’t do what it takes to earn the $100 million in revenues and related taxes EDC generates, and Las Vegas, a city that does, will, and did.
Let’s break it down. First, the tragic death: 1 in 190,000. Is it acceptable? No. Never. Is it the fault of Insomniac or EDC? No. People of all ages make choices. We cannot blame the event for the bad choice of one of its attendees. One of two choices made by this poor young girl that broke two of the clearly stated rules of the event: 16 and over, and no drugs.
We cannot ban music festivals round the world because someone might take drugs, or might die or be injured subsequent to taking drugs. Nor should we. We do need to educate, start talking about the causes and effects of using chemicals (all chemicals) or the “War on Drugs” will continue to be a “War on Ourselves” that, like most arch-conservative wars, are meant to be fought in futility forever.
More complex are the two biggest institutional culprits in the loss of this business by the city of L.A. First, the media coverage of the 2010 event and its aftermath was overly simplistic at best, and fear-mongering propaganda at worst. For example, the young girl’s death, due to complications from her head injury and not an overdose, was widely reported as an O.D. Ignoring the facts in propagandizing this tragedy is a major breach of journalistic ethics, for starters.
Another dramatic example of LA mainstream media manipulation was the widely reported figure that over 200 people were “rushed to the hospital” during the course of the 2010 event. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this stat reported back to me as a factoid from EDC 2010. In actual fact, and this information comes directly from one of the ambulance drivers at the event whom I spoke to during the show last year, nearly 80% of that 200 number was not due to a medical emergency, but rather a local ordinance requiring underage drinkers to be carted to the hospital in an ambulance. Ergo, 200 trips, but less than 50 actual medical issues.
That this number was and is still so widely quoted out of context by both television and print media speaks volumes about the state of LA mainstream media. Why would LA media report inaccurately to the detriment of the music business and the city’s economic well-being? Perhaps because the story of a disastrous music festival attracts more eyeballs than the tale of a well-run event.
A multi-Ferris Wheel situation
Then there’s politics. Along with failing to read between the lines on subjective media coverage – information available by asking a couple of simple questions to obtain the facts – the city and state have turned hostile to the business of holding music events large and small. California, home of the Beach Boys, is banning or over-regulating everything music-related to the detriment of its own economic well-being in light of the current economic climate.
New city ordinances require late night music events to conclude at 2 a.m. (EDC 2011 went to 6 a.m. each night in Vegas) and mandate an increase in the lead-time to request permits for music events from 30 to 90 days (unnecessary and unreasonable). A statewide law (yet to be passed) would restrict the use of pre-recorded music at everything from major raves to private weddings. This latter pending law – prejudicial and only selectively enforceable – is sponsored by a San Francisco Democrat angling to garner conservative votes by positioning music policy as anti-drug legislation. It’s an embarrassment to the state, the city of San Francisco, and to Democrats everywhere. So weak and ill-intentioned, it’s finally galvanized music lovers in California to unite.
And so we have to ask ourselves…why? Why does Las Vegas get it, and Los Angeles doesn’t? Why is California chasing away a hundred million dollars worth of business that Nevada has embraced, accepted and will continue to enjoy for at least the next few years to come? Southern Californians need to keep asking these questions, and exploring solutions that will attract – not repel – business to California to support our reeling economy. Drug education, better reporting, accountability of the media to truth (and barring that, to watch-dog groups) and a willingness of government to ask questions and do the work it takes to enable commerce would be a strong start.
Above and beyond that, it requires each of us as citizens, voters, and the population of this state to keep asking tough questions and to push our media and politicians even harder to come up with solutions that meet our needs instead of giving up on or even banning this particular type of commerce. Because the biggest difference between EDC 2010 and EDC 2011, aside from one more day and 60,000 more people in 2011 and a decline in the accidental death rate from 0.0005% to 0% can be summed up by this simple statement: Los Angeles’ loss is Las Vegas’ gain. We’ve got to stop L.A.’s losing streak right now because I, for one, would not be interested in a five hour drive to go see the Las Vegas Dodgers play baseball.
10 things LA and California need to do to embrace the live music opportunity:
1. Perform a study of live music events in the state and report on facts obtained.
2. Understand how media statements and mis-statements shape opinion and policy surrounding live music events.
3. Adopt a modern, practical education policy for teaching under-aged kids about the pitfalls of drug use.
4. Identify possible venues for holding large-scale music events in state.
5. Develop and articulate a fair and enforceable set of guidelines regarding security policy at live music events.
6. Begin to extend the hours of holding music events at venues of all sizes, and end the ridiculous 2 a.m. curfew on events in Los Angeles.
7. The State of California needs to curtail the archaic policy of last call at 2 a.m. This is a draconian limitation creating a competitive disadvantage versus other states with major cities (eg. – Illinois and New York) that profit from allowing alcohol service to continue later into the night.
8. To support a new, later last call (4 a.m., 6 a.m.) develop and even subsidize mass transit solutions (a late night “party bus,” local shuttle service, zone-based cab fare) to discourage after hours driving and increase new business opportunities around longer drinking hours.
9. Stop saying no and start saying yes to new business opportunities in the state, including organized music events and festivals.
10. Remove unnecessary bureaucratic limitations from the event-throwing process. Forcing event promoters to go through a 90-day permitting cycle when 30 days is more than enough lead-time for the state to process an application is an unneeded and unrealistic burden on promoters and California commerce.
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EDC 2011 – The Music
Sure it’s a carnival, but it’s also a magic musical rave in the desert, and this year’s EDC lineup – which looked great on paper – didn’t disappoint. With the notable exception of a superstar, headline performance by Swedish House Mafia on the Main Stage, some of the biggest booms were heard in the Neon Garden.
Skrillex killing it at EDC; a transcendent performer
Although the stage appeared to be built to accommodate about 30,000 people, Skrillex drew about twice that to his show, easily sucking in more than half of Saturday night’s crowd into his lair, directly across from the Carousel and the Tilt-A-Whirl.
MSTRKRFT closed Saturday night with a bang of its own, and Sunday at the Neon Garden included the monster rally of Harvard Bass, Felix Cartal, Felguk, A-Trak (spinning vinyl), Wolfgang Gartner and concluding with a complete, dance-your-ass off roof-blaster by Dada Life. And that was just Stage 4.
Main stage (Kinetic Field) highlights included Wolfgang Gartner (his first of two sets at EDC), Dirty South and Tiesto on Friday. On Saturday, Martin Solveig, whose track “Hello” must have been played in at least a dozen sets during the weekend, took the boards, along with Afrojack (the first of 2 sets for him), LA Electro-house hero Benny Benassi, F**K me I’m Famous David Guetta and Above & Beyond. And on Sunday, Paul Oakenfold, Avicii, and Laidback Luke rocked the Main Stage.
The Cosmic Meadow, a stage that included both DJs and live acts, featured such Burning Man favorites as Beats Antique, The Glitch Mob, and Bassnectar. A trio of riveting sets on opening night included Royksopp, Plastikman (Richie Hawtin), and Sub Focus, while Saturday featured Empire of the Sun, followed by Dada Life and Boys Noize closing.
On Sunday, LA house favorites The EC Twins opened in the Meadow while The Stanton Warriors’ Dom warmed things up in the Garden. Bunny (Rabbit in the Moon) put on a spectacular show that pulled out all the stops. Big buzz acts that followed Sunday night included Infected Mushroom, The Bingo Players (tech house DJ duo), and Afrojack’s second set, which attracted the majority of the people still in the house on Monday morning.
On the Circuit Grounds, a Tech House friendly venue, Crystal Method, Roger Sanchez, Cosmic Gate, and Calvin Harris provided opening night fireworks. On Day 2, Pleasurekraft (“Tarantula”) rocked the decks, along with a banging two hour set by Green Velvet. UMEK, Richie Hawtin and Victor Calderone also lit up Saturday night.
And at the Bass Pod, where drum and bass and breakbeats met a whole lotta dub, highlights included Marcus Intalex, Roni Size, Friction, Skream & Benga, Dieselboy and Marky on Friday night. On Saturday night, High Contrast and Andy C set the table for Rusko, Hype, Zed’s Dead and LTJ Bukem. Sunday night showcased Liquid Stranger, J Majik, Datsik, Doctor P, Planet of the Drums, Shimon and Nu:Tone.
Often criticized for its focus on younger music and younger audiences, this year’s shift from 16 and up to 18 and up, along with the move to Vegas accompanied the real triumph of this show: the lineup was artistically ambitious, balanced and deep. Featuring some of the best dub artists in the world: Skrillex, Rusko, Skream & Benga, and Dieselboy (who still brings it) among others, alongside Electro House juggernauts like Bart B More, Jack Beats, Dada Life, Boys Noize and MSTRKRFT.
Top Tech House talent included Cosmic Gate, Pleasurekraft, Green Velvet, Richie Hawtin, Bingo Players, Ferry Corsten and ATB. And superstars of psy-trance (Infected Mushroom) played on the same stage as Boys Noize, Bunny, Empire of the Sun, Bassnectar, Dada Life, Royksopp, and Plastikman, to name just a few.
Richie Hawtin’s Plastikman set, accompanied by a tremendous traveling stage show, was a revelation as the closing set at Coachella 2010. It’s still an aural and video wonder. Compared to my initial impression of the lineup for Coachella 2011 (the weakest Coachella lineup ever), the Electric Daisy Carnival lineup was blow the roof off spectacular from the get go. Reputation and good press count, but kicking much butt by booking one of the best lineups on the planet doesn’t hurt either.
As a top-notch music festival approaching par with Miami’s Ultra Festival and well within its right to be compared to the mighty Coachella, not to mention the most highly attended music event in the world (I said it again), EDC 2011 promised, arrived, and delivered. To a Las Vegas community that’s very happy to now be able to call it their own.
Thinking about going out?
It’s a new world out there, and though the police, the government and the anti-social among us may deny it, going out to dance is becoming the world’s greatest pastime. Bigger than football, or, as we call it, soccer. Though maybe not sex. Nonetheless, with the explosion of phenomenal DJ talent flourishing far and wide, we are blessed to be in the midst of a dance floor revolution that features a lot of happy feet and booty bumping bodies every place in the world that has decks and speakers.
Dancing isn’t just about rubbing up next to the hottest piece of ass that’ll let you get close. Dancing isn’t slapping on your fishnet stockings and a glittery gold thong while sucking on a binky when the E kicks in, either. If that’s all it is or seems to be to you, then you’re missing it. There’s now a place in this world where adults can be adults, mix it up, socialize in a big kids kind of way. And it can be a lot of fun, if we all agree to keep it cool, keep it smart, and keep it together as a community.
Joe Clausell cranking it up at Deep's 12-year anniversary
I am a big fan of The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz’ perfect little book on how our beliefs influence the agreements we make with others and ourselves. It’s an easy read, and offers a healthy and easy to act upon set of principles to keep in mind as a social Rules of the Road. If you haven’t read it yet, I highly suggest it. And if you have, I hope you’ll agree that its principles can be valuably applied to the potential highlights and lowlights of dance music culture in the early two thousand and teens.
The First Agreement: Be Impeccable With Your Word.
Personal integrity. Say what you mean, mean what you say. Walk your talk. This applies on the business side of the coin so well. Promoters, party throwers, you don’t throw a number out there and then not follow through. You say you’re going to pay $200 to a DJ for their set, don’t try to talk them down to $150 or $100 because you want to put a few bucks back on your bottom line. It was your job to promote, it was their job to DJ. They did their job. If you didn’t do yours, don’t take it out on them.
Of course, if a DJ shows up super late, mails it in, gets hammer-jacked and forgets how to beat match that’s not exactly being impeccable word-wise either. But in my experience I’ve seen and heard 10 times as many true stories about promoters who stiff their DJs than stories about DJs slacking off a set. Any DJ who would do that would only be hurting their self. The same goes for the sound guy; mess with him at your peril. And sound guy…if you’re getting paid to provide sound for the party, don’t be outside working your MoJo when the music inside gets tweaked. It’s your job to be there before that happens and make it stop immediately, if not sooner.
I do need to relate the story of one DJ who’s behavior was not in line with his word, both in terms of a written contract, and the unwritten agreements which unofficially provide a rational framework for our modern, musical social structure. In addition to having his manager dump a late and douchey artist rider on the event promoter the night before the gig, this semi-well known artist hijacked the set of another up-and-comer (one with far more potential, and much better manners in my opinion) on a Thursday because there were “industry people there to see him.”
Then, the very next night, he did the same thing to one of LA’s finest DJs in reverse. Going on late, he played deep into the next artist’s time slot, cheating her out of the opportunity to share her gifts because he “had some industry people running late.” Big Ego Selfish Ass DJ who shall be nameless is now the namesake of this slimy DJ time shifting maneuver, such that all who experienced his embarrassing lack of class refer to the act of bogarting another DJ’s set as __________ ing them. Where ___________ is said DJ’s actual name. Perhaps one day he’ll hear his own name coined in this way and it will ring a bell and he’ll be mega-embarrassed. Good. He should be. Impeccable is a state of mind, and then some.
The Second Agreement: Don’t Take Anything Personally.
Ah yes. If only it were that easy. How do you not take it personally when the one thing we absolutely know is that there’s a vast right-wing conspiracy to get us? Take a deep breath, dude. You’re going to get in the door eventually. It’s just that you’re not a hot chick. So it might take a little longer. Try to love the wait so much that it makes you enjoy the show that much more when you finally do get in.
Long lines at the door suck, and yeah they probably didn’t hire enough staff. I guarantee you the people throwing the event aren’t enjoying looking at the long lines of folks anxiously waiting to get inside. They want you in there, too, where you can buy cocktails and hot wings and maybe even a t-shirt. Right after they let in that hot chick. Everyone loves a hot chick at a party. That doesn’t mean they don’t love you. It just means that you may need to wait your turn to get that love, no matter how much you want it. Nothing personal.
And another thing you don’t take personally. Someone you want to dance with. Someone you want to talk to. They may not want to dance with or talk to you right now. It’s OK. They’re not snubbing you. OK, maybe they are snubbing you, but that’s not because there’s anything wrong with you at all. OK, there may actually be something wrong with you, but it’s probably not your fault.
And even if it is, if you’re doing your part to keep your end of the bargain then you’re beautiful, and you’re awesome, and you will be totally deserving of the next person who’s going to come along and see the beautiful swan in you when someone with different eyes saw an ugly duckling. Do not go psycho. Do not go stalker. Do not post every multi-syllabic pejorative on your or their Facebook wall. Do not take it personally. Just move on. Learning not to take things personally will free your heart and soul from so much unnecessary gravity you will not believe it until you are so unencumbered you are flying.
The Third Agreement: Don’t Make Assumptions.
This is a multi-way street. Just because she’s dancing with you doesn’t mean she wants you. It also doesn’t mean she wants you to touch her, but it might be fine. Don’t assume. Patiently, politely, artfully or directly, whichever you prefer, try to find out. And if it’s a “No,” see Agreement 2 above.
If you see a diamond ring on the left ring finger, that doesn’t necessarily mean that someone is married. On the other hand, if you don’t see a diamond ring, it’s no proof of non-marriage either. Better to find out intentions rather than leaping without looking. Of course, on still yet another hand, the occasional blind leap may be rewarding or fun. Just don’t assume that another wants to take that leap with you until they let you know explicitly that they do.
This Agreement also has relevance in the matter of taking drugs. Whether or not you support the consumption of consciousness enhancers and recreational stimulants, I think we can all agree that it’s important to be safe and sound when it comes to putting anything physiologically complex in our bodies. Know your source and make sure you can truly trust in it. Take moderate doses, especially when you aren’t sure how your body will react.
The above goes for everything from party favors to drinking water. It’s sadly ironic that the girl who died at last year’s Electric Daisy Carnival didn’t lose her life because she took bad ecstasy, or too much ecstasy. She didn’t know, or have friends experienced enough to know, that after hitting her head she should have gone to a doctor rather than drinking so much water she succumbed to encephalitis. It was the water that did it. And the assumption that one could never drink too much of it. Don’t assume. It makes…well, you know what it makes.
The Fourth Agreement: Always Do Your Best.
Oh! Well, you say. If I could always do my best I’d be the most successful person in the world. Sometimes it’s just not possible to do your best. But you see, the key to doing your best isn’t just doing your best when it’s convenient or easy or the ideal time to do your best. Doing your best also includes making a go of it when the wind isn’t at your back.
Doing your best really means doing the best you can under any given circumstances. Making the most of every hand you’ve been dealt. It’s how the postman battles wind and sleet and rain to deliver the mail. It’s how a great DJ can finesse even a crappy sound system with not enough tops and shitty amperage distribution to coax a few more booties that deserve to be shaken out on the dance floor. It’s how a DJ who just had their heart broken manages to put on a brave face, tell their fans where they’re going to be playing, and then rocks one out for the ages in the name of unrequited love and the confidence that some doors close so that others may open.
Doing your best also means not relying on that crutch each and every time. It means sucking it up and muddling through when things go bad, and maintaining humility and keeping the ego in check when it finally begins to blow up for you in a good, big way. Sometimes doing your best means apologizing even when it’s not your fault, or doing something either major or menial behind the scenes where you may not get the credit, but your service to the greater good makes all the difference in the world. Do your best and the best possible thing will happen, and that’s just how it works.
So here in an approximately two thousand word nutshell is my attempt to mash-up the wisdom of The Four Agreements with the international phenomenon of dancing to music with other people. Once we’ve taken these principles to heart and created a culture in which we make and keep all of our written and unwritten agreements, living with integrity, self-love and peace by unburdening ourselves of the limitations and unhappiness laid on us by others, we can all get down with the vital, Fifth Agreement: No Parking on the Dance Floor.
Like a mini-Burning Man, just an hour away, Lightning in a Bottle beckoned. Behind the Orange Curtain. By the long, skinny, lake.
An early arrival opportunity paired with my not-ready-for-playa-time self had made for a hectic week before. My shit was not together. No air pump. Not packed. No food. A Wednesday night arrival would be a stretch, if not an out and out bad idea.
So I opted to arrive Thursday, by noon. Land a minute after and I’d be waiting till 4, I’d read. And I believed it. If LIB was going swim not sink with a tidal wave of creative humanity literally doubling attendance at the event from last year, its producers were going to have to be able to follow their own rules. The Do Lab did.
Freshly minted camp signage at the beginning of the weekend.
Reached the box office in the back of the Santiago Canyon College parking lot at 10:15 to be safe. No one even there yet. Maybe 8 early birds in the parking lot and a couple of friendly staffers at the Arrival Tent. Were they ready for the mob scene that would ensue when gates opened 6 hours later? I’m told the wait was up to 5 hours. True or apocryphal, long lines at the start of a big event can feel like forever. One Arrival Tent for all those people. Brave Staffers. Needed 3 tents at least. But from my POV, before the deluge hit, they got me going with a smile.
Dropped off my gear on the grassy west camping area almost exactly noon and drove to the ginormous parking lot at the far end of the property. Moved the car as close to the campground as I could, which was a wise idea. I’d be walking there again, and again, and the walk was substantial. Gotta be ready to do some walking at LIB. Bikes are allowed, but not too practical, especially with the big old hill separating the east side from the west.
Savored the walk from my car to my camp, a slow stroll over what was about to become the weekend home of Southern California’s hip, aspiring, and just plain curious. To many, and a lot of these many being women, LIB is Burning Man with showers, and without the dust and the 12-hour ride up the coast. So while the women of Burning Man are extraordinary, the women of LIB are abundant beyond even the wildest California Dreams. But please don’t LIB simply for that or it’ll ruin it.
For the next two days, a city of tents, cars, campers, shade structures and as much of the BRC portable petting zoo that could reasonably be brought to the OC flourished across this landscape. Would love to see a timelapse video of it. Envision this city expanding from the bottom of the hill to the lake and all the way back to the parking lot in the east. Not fully jampacked. But close. Orderly cities built in the flat, east basin, including the pornjy puddle of my homies in Lushville. The west side was equally well organized, if not exactly so linear. Lots of hillside camping kept the angles interesting. Gravity is not exactly your best friend on a tilted camp sight.
Nor is the wind, which occasionally pummeled my brand new tent purchased for the occasion. It went up pretty well and stayed put mostly considering I didn’t find the spikes until I put the thing away. Better to locate these things first so you can use them while you’re actually camping. Next time. And note to self: remember not to forget the iPod speaker and my bath towel when packing for Burning Man. Thanks, Lina, for the extra towel. It’s being washed and folded with care.
After a quick tour of the grounds with my biz partner Art Cruz’ awesome wife Tonya, whose designs totally rock and completely killed it in the Vending Village, I ran into The Spaceman at the Lumi Cafe (named after me), and watched Lou E. Bagels rock worlds with his midwest magic on the toasted cheese grill. Back to camp by 4 for a quiet night’s sleep with an assist to my brand new mattress pump — three days and nights of music on the horizon.
Decided that Friday I would take a long, slow walk east across the campgrounds and land in Lushville. Began with a little family time with friends Regan, Jason and Mira in the celestial Temple of Consciousness. Bumping into Lina, we hit the Lightning Stage for Onamare and The Mowglis, then were totally charmed by Kaminanda’s spritely set before connecting with our peeps in the Land of Lush.
Pornj in the Puddle @ Lightning in a Bottle.
In and around Space Island and the Playa Surfers was a trio of pink EZ-ups connecting a consortium of Disorient, the Mozaic Lounge and friends of Ryan Jesena, DJ Lush Bunny. With a plush community chill zone and a cuddle puddle that would be my landing pad on Sunday morning, Lushville was home away from home at LIB. Thanks to Ryan, Joni Day and crew for that slice of heaven.
Hours waft by like tiny rain drops in the puddle, and I somehow managed to catch only mere moments of two really important sets – Mark Zabala at the Woogie and Stefan Jacobs at Bamboo – while hustling to the big stage (Lightning) for Freq Nasty and David Starfire’s Dub Kirtan All-Stars. Headline artists joining forces to create something more in collaboration. With live instruments, call and response, and generous Dub collaboration (not easy), it rocked sonically and spiritually. A harbinger of good things to come.
Wandering back to the Lumi, I was pleasantly surprised to catch rising stars and LA Disorient favorites Love in the Circus performing an absolutely mesmerizing, acoustic set in advance of their main stage appearance on Sunday. The band was picture perfect in this intimate space, and lead singer Leanna Rachel shyly sexy, subtly smoldering, utterly dazzling the flock of 300 that had gathered around. Always leave the audience wanting to know your name. LITC got that done at LIB. Twice.
Love in the Circus lights up the Lumi.
A few inspiring moments with Random Rab then a big pow wow at the Woogie (which absolutely rocked all weekend long, kudos to Sammy Bliss and Jesse Wright) with Rafa, Beau, Brooke, Karoline, Marques, Ryan and Ivy to catch a superb set by Claude von Stroke. Tight, fun, and funky, with his signature animal grunts and snorts crystal clear on the Funktion One.
High recommendations for NastyNasty proved to be warranted, and after a few amusing glitch-funk throw downs from PantyRaid we moved onto Lucent at the Lightning. Lucent Dossier delivers eye candy of the highest order, a sexy steam punk circus that continues to expand in artistry and complexity. Friday’s Lightning stage headliner MiMOSA was so original and spell-binding that I had to be dragged away to the last half hour of Nick Warren’s pulsing, tribal prog house set at the Woogie with Charlene, DAK, Dale, Debbie, and Kai. Worth the trip, yet left me wanting still more MiMOSA. He got me hooked, and I will be there for his next LA performance.
Once the music stages closed at 2, Marques Wyatt dropped a magical, late night deep soul session on a renegade music stage in the shadow of the Woogie. A perfect way to round out a thoroughly satisfying night of music for the many gathered tribes.
Saturday was a different kind of day because a music project materialized thanks to Lush Bunny and Rafael de la Cruz. Love and thanks also to the enormously talented Zomes crew (a white, wooden temple shaped like an onion parked next to East camping across from the Woogie) and the generosity of LIB for providing a generator to keep us powered through the night. After several hours of set up by day, I abbreviated my Saturday music rounds to be ready throw down an electro-house set in the Zomes at midnight. A worthwhile barter if ever there was one.
Before that all went down, I quite fortunately ran into LABA’s Patricio (dressed for the day as Cockzilla) with girlfriend Shawn, who led me to one of the finest sets of the entire weekend – Joplin MacColl at the Woogie. Having heard so much about her, I’d never gotten to see Joplin really do her thing, and on Saturday at LIB she was completely in the zone. I could see the sparkle in her eyes as she accepted glowing congratulations back stage.
Joining Patricio, Shawn and friends at the Vending Village, where I’d soon find the perfect sport utility vest I’ve been seeking. Patricio got hooked up with a sweet pair of shorts and a proper shirt, which I have to say was a relief to many in light of the aesthetic onslaught that was Cockzilla.
Heyoka’s hair will rule the world if we let it. His set was playful and elegant at the same time. Loved Sammy Bliss’ gorgeous twilight set, and then enjoyed but couldn’t quite come to love what seemed like a subdued performance by Beats Antique before returning to camp to get my gear.
Arriving at the Zomes, the party was already under way with DJ Marco from SF on the decks rocking some classic house. Jumping on at the stroke of midnight, I spent an hour going from deep to techno to electro, ultimately dropping a phat and phearty phunk excursion into the intimate, house party vibe before Lush Bunny took the stage at 2. Lush’s sound and his audience continue to evolve very organically, and while he wasn’t totally satisfied by his set, which was interrupted by the generator giving out in a consistently misting rain, the vibe was perfect as the audience continued to build, bump and groove.
Top of the Zomes at Daybreak.
From there Beau Robb (The Temple Monkey) and Rafael de la Cruz took the wheel and steered from 4 a.m. to well past sunrise. Rafa’s deep and world-influenced house balanced perfectly with Beau’s round-the-world house ethos: from Balinese Progressive to Sunday morning Gospel, turning the Zomes into a playa-fied tribal party zone all night long.
A long, chilly morning walk didn’t seem so long or chilly with all that warm vibe in the air. After an extended stop at the Wench for deep space sets by Jupit3r and Stefan Jacobs, Quade, and iMagika Om, I fell back into the puddle for a sunrise snooze. Awakened, with bacon, in the puddle with Sabine, Miguel, Roxanne, Ted, Ilan, Vanessa, Chuki, Gaby, Michelle, Vanita, Ruby, Jason, den mother Hruby and more, Sunday day was a bit of sleepwalk until Love in the Circus dropped a groovy, bubblicious set on our pornjy existences.
Landed at the Woogie for the last moments of Syd Gris’ electro-breakbeat feast, before what might have been the best set of the entire weekend (apparently, yet again) by L.A.’s favorite son Pumpkin. Trying to explain Pumpkin’s sound is only part of the fun because the guy is all love to begin with, and his sets are so full of good ideas, familiar songs “all glitched up,” and a vibe so warm that his giant heart-shaped sunglasses end up becoming an understatement.
Joined the love-fest with Kimmie and Matt, M-80, the Spacenutz and Will and Diva backing up on-stage. Here’s the best explanation I’ve come up with so far: imagine that you’ve just met the love of your life, and upon heading home, basking in the glow, you make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Pumpkin’s music is the happy feeling you get every time you eat a PBJ forever more because it tastes like the day you fell in love.
I would also add that Pumpkin’s sound combines the spirit of the Beach Boys with the more modern promises of glitch. And that’s all I’m going to say about Pumpkin because everyone’s already saying so many nice things that the guy’s head’s going to blow up like a giant hot air balloon and we’re not going to be able to afford to have him play our parties anymore. ☺
Pumpkin Love-Fest at the Woogie.
After a trip back to the West side for more layers, and a catch up with Tim n Tessa, caught a delicate set by LYNX, then the middle of Lee Burridge’s three-hour marathon fusion of minimal house and techno. Gorgeous. My buzz act of the weekend, Baths, was a one-man wrecking crew, twisting knobs on Ableton Live. Cranking the glitch-bass, banging quirky beats, and rocking the mic, he’s a Tasmanian Devil once untracked. And a monster of chill when dialed down.
Enjoyed Eskmo but didn’t love that his name reminded me how cold it was getting. Warmed up a bit with Jacob and Diana on the bridge over the lake, and Deborah, Bagels and J*Labs (who brought the thunder late night Saturday and Sunday, too) in the d i a l e c t art gallery next to Lightning Stage. The same gallery that housed the by-then indispensible space heater. Bonobo’s set, which I caught with Farid and David, was superb, dancey and worldly at the same time.
Seraphim was hot, literally and figuratively, providing a fittingly Burner transition from Bonobo to Thievery Corporation’s Outernational Soundscapes. While I like them best as a live band; LIB’s DJ set was a worthwhile testament to the range and breadth of their prolific career.
Finally, freezing, out of gas energy-wise and a little concerned about succumbing to the elements, I began the walk home with a stop at the Woogie for John Kelley’s remarkable closing set. Funky desert breaks infused with moments of lightning and thunder on a cold, clear night. Suitably epic; so new it’s old. Great one, John.
It got pretty freaking cold Sunday night, and I was starting to feel crappy. Nose running, dogs barking. Hated to miss sets by David Starfire and Electric Dandelion on the Wench that I’m told were off the hook. Had to get warm and hit the hay to conserve energy for what would prove to be an eventful day of packing up and getting out of Dodge. Left it all on the playa, as they say, or in this case, in the O.C. on the hill overlooking the lake.
More helping hands at the gates included J.K., who graciously facilitated my exit by 4 on the dot Monday. You gotta hand it to The Do Lab. They successfully cultivated a weekend-long, professionally curated art and music sleep-over for more than 10,000 with broad participation from the entire Southern California Burning Man community. And they doubled the size of their Big Annual Event without creating a gigantic O.C. clusterfuck. Southern California’s biggest Burning Man regional — Lightning in a Bottle 2011. The Do Lab did it right.
My friend Fly and I were having one of those conversations in the kitchen. Breaking it down. And the subject turns to bamboo, which seems to be taking over every single sky-exposed millimeter of the garden, when an ash grey rat shuffles by the window. Stops, looks us both square in the eye, then prances off into the thicket.
Perhaps our furry little friend was just passing through. Or maybe headed home to a nest deep in the brush between the neighbor’s house and mine. When I’m in the back, especially at night, I keep an eye out for my little, grey, uninvited guest, and so far haven’t seen or heard a peep. But every once in a while, when the bamboo shakes and there’s a rustle in the thicket, I wonder if somewhere its beady red eyes are looking down on me.
Oddly enough, three years on, this is exactly how I feel about the Age of Bush; gone but not forgotten. By me. They did such bang-up job grabbing the world by the balls during their first four years, then squeezing mercilessly for the four even longer more, the mere thought of the neo-conservative menace lurking out there makes me jumpy like a rustling in the trees, causing me to jerk reflexively in defense of my crotchal area.
I can still vividly recall the psychic assault of two years at The Walt Disney Corporation. How that Machiavellian hell-hole left me feeling like an abused child still five years down the road from my exit interview. Having regained the optimism to rejoin corporate ranks, this time at Symantec, the first compliment I received from a co-worker had me thoroughly dumbfounded. An actual incident of corporate kindness, or clever subterfuge to disguise yet another blindside attack from the right?
There was no rat in the bushes at Symantec, for the next ten years at least. Unless it was Microsoft. And in a more collegial environment, I learned that concepts like teamwork and positive feedback weren’t mere devises of fiction. That which works in theory can also work in reality when we’ve held the dumb-asses at bay. And the flinch is a mental scar that Mice and Men may leave on the impressionable.
Of all the disasters Mother Nature’s bestowed in the past 10 to 20, none have weighed more, or killed more, than the Bush Debacle. Ultra-Conservatives, Trojan Horse Tea-Baggers and Polar Pundits have harrumphed long enough to dump the lion’s share of blame for “today’s economy” on Barack Obama. But the truth is that the war was a lie; a $3-6 trillion pump and dump that marks the Military Industrial Complex’ slickest job of global eco-terrorism to date. Its Capitalist Manifesto.
Phony WMD, Shock and Awe, The Patriot Act, Mission Accomplished, the Enron shell game, and a multi-trillion dollar corporate handout — in doublespeak, Too Big to Fail. And BAM!!! more than a million dead and we’re over $14 trillion in debt.
How do we look ahead without looking back? Is the rustling in the bushes real noise or just rustling? What in today’s world still bears the Mark of Rove? Rush Limbaugh’s oxycontin skidmark? Another Dick Cheney hunting casualty? In the Age of Bush anything (bad and/or stupid) was possible.
That we even debate today who dug the hole this country is in, as opposed to knowing and learning from the reality of so many costly Neo-Con mistakes is a testimony to GroupThink and a totem of the indefatigable Extreme-Right’s relentless War on Truth.
So confused are we that oh-so slightly left-leaning, weed-loving California voted against legalizing marijuana in a public election for no good reason at all. This nation so intellectually tweaked that upon the assassination of Osama bin Laden, all of our collectively abused reflexes could only at first twinge. What shoe will drop next? What civil liberties will this week’s War Against The Other allow us to be convinced to drop from the social contract? Is Obama really with us, and is this a result of his intelligence and diligence paying off? I really hope so.
Nothing but glad we got our Boogie Man. Some knew where he was hiding since 2008, so long past prepared to snag that bottom feeder. Apparently they dumped him on the ocean floor. Here’s hoping his evil molecules don’t fuse with the flora and fauna, spawning sprawling, killer seaweed. Did you hear that? Feint but firm. Soggy yet steadfast. More Rustling.
We are excited to announce that tickets to Mecca are finally on sale! After much time planning and scheming, we have secured a beautiful place in the desert to hold this event. Tickets are $75 for a full weekend pass, $50 for a single day. 3 Stages x 14 hours of music each, Friday and Saturday, with a half day on Sunday ($30, Sunday only). We were not able to obtain on-site camping permits for this year’s version (YAY Goverment!!); however, there are many excellent local options for campers and hoteliers, even bed-and-breakfast types. We will be publishing recommendations and links to those soon, so stay tuned.
This is not EDC, or Coachella, or Lollapalooza. This is Mecca. 4 Music. More power to the great, Big American Music Fest, but this event is for us. The DJs, the music makers, the artists and fans who love new sounds and want to enjoy them under the sun in a classy and comfortable environment. Mecca is a destination for DJs and people who love DJ music. An outlet for the incredible musical talent developing in Southern California and around the world on a stage (3 stages actually) where you can relax and enjoy, or dance your ass off, for less than $100 for a whole weekend of music. It’s not about the money, it’s about the beats.
If you believe in what I’m saying, you should come to Mecca.
We have a limited capacity — less than 2000 tickets will be sold for the entire weekend, our choice — and we want this event to be fun, affordable, and a really nice weekend that you’ll want to attend every year for years to come. We are at the beginning of something big, now, and really that’s one of the best reasons to be here for this. In addition to the music. So many DJs: brand new, emerging, blowing up and some diamonds in the rough. We will be adding many more acts from Southern California and points beyond soon, so get ready for more good news.
The idea of Mecca is simple: nice place, good peeps, great music all day and into the night. This one’s for Us.
Mecca Festval is 16 & over with a 21 & over drinking area and on-site parking. Carpools and Keeping it Green are highly encouraged.
Fair enough, yet the differences are semantic, not substantive. The issue is, we have a scarcity of resources in this world. And we’re not just talking about oil or beach-front property, we’re talking about ALL THE MONEY.
We can keep playing this game where we try to package it as nicely as possible, and the plutocracy is going to cry “socialism” every time. They’re going to hit that button. I believe one of the things that must happen is that people need to know what it means to “socialize” a resource or a service.
The bigger problem is the belief that it’s OK to for the wealthiest to have more and more without recognizing that by unlimited having we are creating and perpetuating a massive worldwide epidemic of NOT having. Which is killing us, and creating problems as diverse as the 9/11 attacks, the Eqypt and Libyan crises, and more.
By the way, the logical end-game of the rich getting richer that will “probably get corrected” to use Warren Buffet’s words isn’t some sort of clean, neat, nice, magical redistribution. Redistribution without revolution will take dialogue, discipline and restraint, the lack of which have gotten us to where we are now. Without facing the very tough questions, like how much is too much, and how do we get the wealthy to slow down and the aspiring to stop and think, and lacking a leader who can articulate these problems in the face of unpopular reaction, the logical outcomes are not nearly so pretty, sane, or orderly.
I’m concerned we have long passed the crossroads, and it’s going to take something much bigger and more shocking to change our course. Whatever that is, I do believe it will be far more cataclysmic and far less appealing than facing the simple reality that we need to *redistribute* our resources so that the wealthy, who just plain have too much, proactively prevent the vast majority, which has virtually nothing by comparison in terms of resources, from becoming sort of human tsunami.
A tsunami that, while unstoppable as a geological wave, has been predicted by most of the great sociologists of the last two centuries. We can prevent that tsunami from unfurling, but it’s going to take serious, sustained, fundamental change. Starting with the relatively simple idea that redistributing resources isn’t just a good thing, as in not a bad/socialist thing, it is probably the easiest and best way to fix this broken planet before it gets so broken that fixing it isn’t an option.
December 3, 2010
Hello, Friends and Family. It’s been a while! I hope this finds you at peace, productively on your path and on your way to a satisfying year’s end. For me, 2010 has been a year of tremendous productivity, taking giant strides toward the personal and professional goals of the last five years. I know it’s crazy out there, but I’ve hit the accelerator and found luck and still untapped potential in a world that at times feels surreally hard to peg.
I love and miss The Morning Brief, and hope that to the extent it’s realistic you do, too. My intention is to continue to write and post Briefs from time to time, perhaps on a monthly basis. We’ll see how things unfold. There’s a lot brewing, and I’ve chosen to take my editorial energy and put it to work producing music and new media that enlightens and hopefully makes a difference. So far, so good. Can’t wait for you to see, and hear, what’s next. Won’t be long now.
Meanwhile, with the remainder of 2010 up yonder, and a goodly chunk of the year on the books, I thought I’d drop a few Brief-style Idea Bombs on ya and see if anything reverberates. There has never been a time when sincere intentions, new ideas, and good, old-fashioned work can do more in this world. I’m excited about the possibilities, and hope to inspire dialogue, creativity, and most of all, action in you.
In politics, the state of suspended animation enveloping the laws and processes of our land continues, and spells historic opportunity for Barack Obama and the entire American Body Politick. Much like Bill Clinton in 1994, Obama could be looking at 6 more years to build on a handful of achievements in this glorious, albeit imperfect, post-Bush age.
Barring impeachment, over what I don’t know, we’ve got at least two more orbits before we might be forced to face the Peril of Palin. Hey, if there’s even a fraction of a percentage of a chance that it could happen, that’s way too close. Remember thinking that almost 10 year and two months ago. Time yet to win hearts and minds and improve on a handful of managerial shortcomings in the preceding mid-term.
In the modern world of business, one needs to do one’s job, and let those around them know the job has been done. As nice as it would be to live in a world where no one wanted or needed to toot their own horns, with all the many, many tooters filling the air with sound upon self-promoting sound, those with more humble or modest demeanors must not allow themselves to be tooted out.
As accomplished an executive and leader as he was, one thing Bill Clinton never did was to get a universal health care bill through Congress and on his desk for signing, with or without a public option. Though it may be a little less than, so far, it is an achievement; a monumental and historic one, too. Like most v1s, with more hard work, refinement, and a reasonable amount of follow-up it can be the starting point of our country’s national discussion on how to fix the tragically unfair and inefficient mess that has become of our once mighty health care industry. We do still discuss things around here, don’t we? Well, perhaps then it’s time to start.
In addition to more work on the government’s part to move the healthcare ball forward, I’d like to see the doctors and insurers step into the void and stop being dyed-in-the-wool capitalists — no altruism, no sense of propriety over the well-being of those they’re charged with protecting. We need doctors and other healthcare pros to acknowledge that there is a problem, and get in on the process of finding a solution before the rest of the world summarily decides they ARE the problem.
And while we’re on the topic of unlikely but necessary and entirely capable heroes, many of whom also number among the professional benefactors of the healthcare inequity, it would be equally helpful if more of this country’s rich – the upper 5% — who have seen their share of the universal economic pie increase from $8 trillion to $40 trillion over the past 25 years kick back their bubble-bred wealth. This in the name of shaving our National Debt, which has grown from $6 to $12 trillion after the Bush Years and the Iraq War.
Former Reagan budget director David Stockman (Reagan!) has even spoken out about the fiscal lie of cutting taxes, espousing a 15% one-time tax that would cut our debt in half. Of course, in a world where everyone is so vested in their own long-term potential to be overpaid and under-taxed, getting a rich man, or even a poor man, to vote on giving anything back is like asking a camel to walk through the eye of a hurricane while standing on pins and needles. Or something to that effect.
We live in a country where the richest man in it (Bill Gates) and his Dad tried to give some back in Washington State, and the rank and file said NO. Taxes may seem like a slippery slope, something to spill tea over, but they also (Gasp!!) pay bills and downsize deficits. Like the kind which materialize after you go on a multi-trillion dollar boondoggle in the Iraqi desert. The constant striving for more, the tendency to be owned by one’s own possessions, and the inability to see better for all in the narcissistic fog of wanting more for oneself are their own slipperier and sadder sort of slope indeed. For those hoping pop culture or mainstream news or entertainment media will shine a beacon or even light a match, please don’t hold your breath, real or imaginary. Unless you’re swimming underwater to a submarine spaceship that will magically transport you back in time to a mythical, blue world that learns from its failings in Vietnam and successfully stops the War in Iraq by massive, non-violent protest. As a society we have become better watchers than doers, and that’s precisely why a whole lot more doing is in order for all of us in the days ahead.
That’s where my head’s at, and why I’m writing less Briefs, and doing more of everything else that I can. There’s a cultural, communal movement taking place right now, blending music, artistic self-expression, dancing and good, old-fashioned live social human interaction. Not a political party, it’s just…a party. It’s fricking awesome, and it’s happening right here, today. It’s grass roots, plus, and it requires folks to stand on their feet for long periods of time and look other people in the eye. I can’t get enough. Artists and other humanists of the world are beginning to unite, wanting more: music, unity, dancing. We need more, too; face-to-face congregating, conversating, and just plain old boogieing for the boogie’s sake while we’re at it. So I’m working the boogie beat from all sides these days. Doing, creating, and going more, writing and talking about it less. I suggest you climb aboard that bus as well, if you’re not already ridin’.
You don’t need a ticket, and everyone’s a VIP. @ @ @ UPCOMING BASS RITUAL / DJ LOOMER GIGS You may need a ticket to get into these upcoming events, but they’ll be well worth the price of admission.
