Testing Times

I've reached the stage in my academic life where exams are like really, really, really, *really* long blog posts: the rant instinct kicks in, and the keyboard strokes pile up faster than the interest on my student loans.

On the bright side, it's all denominated in soon-to-be-devalued dollars. If I were on the chopping block for renminbi or rubles, then it would be time to worry.

One Order of Claypot Calamari, To Go

The irrepressible Brit comedy duo Bird and Fortune nail the Vampire Squidsters to the wall with a gluon gun. I haven't laughed so hard in weeks.

Reasons to be cheerful...

Bears.

Monkeys.

Waffles.

Another Metal Gear Solid game due in 2010.

* * * * * *

Fragments of my past are catching up to me. They are the fragments of Empire. They glitter and glisten, singing unknown codes, their fractal shards congeal into tunes. These days, I diligently transcribe the melodies. Only then can I perceive the murmurous tumult of the multipolar world: Marcelo D2, MC Solaar, Serebro, and Baaba Maal, with voices like the light of stars.

Heart of the Empire's Darkness

"The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide..." -- Joseph Conrad

Looking back, it's striking how so much of early to mid-20th century US science-fiction, as well as a great deal of 19th century British fiction, obsessed over the catastrophic end of Empire. By contrast, the hallmark of the US-UK mass media during the neoliberal era was an arrogant, preening superiority, a refusal to think historically combined with ever more spectacular (and speculative) consumerisms. Conrad was talking about Belgium's rogue colonialism in the Congo, of course, but you get at least a hint of the mass famines of British colonial India in Kurtz' gaunt frame. Nothing of the sort is permitted a moment of air-time in the latest Star Trek, Batman or Ironman movies. The totality of the neoliberal lie has become totally delusional.

I suspect this lack of historical consciousness has unwittingly accelerated the rot of the US Empire. The British ruling elites, with their Oxford educations, knew what happened to Rome; the gang of war-mongering thugs, health insurance vampires, and credit-derivatives gangsters running America into the ground simply want to steal anything they can get their tentacles on.

Getting kicked when you're down...

America is supposed to be a rich country.

But in America, it's awfully expensive to be poor.

Get behind on your payments just once, and the house of cards formerly known as US middle class life topples over, each credit chain knocking over another...

Overdue rent fees...
Overdue phone charges...
Overdue electric bills...
Bank overdraft fees...
The constant sight of commodities you can no longer afford...
The entirely rational feeling of being hunted, all the time...
Desperation leading to panicky decisions leading to more fees...

Life in America is expensive for the poor.

Get behind just once, and you're stuck at the bottom of a deep, deep well.

Wall Street neoliberals who live on seven/eight/nine/ten-figure salaries call this well freedom. Because they live at the top, in the sunlight.

The rest of us call it being drowned by millimeter.

Just another day in the global favela...

Wake up.

Sift a substance with a vague biochemical resemblance to coffee-grounds, pour water, turn on coffee-machine.

Try not to think about the telco bills I can't pay.

Try not to think about the car maintenance I can't afford.

Try not to think about the gum disease treatment I can't pay for.

Try not to think about the dental fillings which I don't have the money to replace.

Try not to think about the films/media/DVDs/videogames I can't afford to rent.

Try not to think about my $145,000+ in student loans at 7% interest taken out out of sheer necessity when Vampire Squid can borrow from Uncle Sam at 0%.

Try not to think about how neoliberalism terminated my first profession.

Try not to think about how I've lived for 23 years on less than $10,000/year in the midst of the most consumer-mad and overpriced capitalism on the planet.

Deep breath.

Pour coffee. Salt with powdered milk (1/4 price of fresh milk).

Ahhhhhh. To paraphrase Brecht, Kaffee ist für mich Produktionsmittel [coffee is my means of production]. Contemplate the toil which went into harvesting, drying, shipping and retailing those coffee beans. Note to self: less self-pity, more solidarity.

Begin writing.

"Data-proles of the world, unite... we have nothing to lose but our $40 trillion of debt..."

The Empire Says Goodbye, Slorgzilla Says Hello

You know what they say about Wall Street: it's all arbitrage fun and off-balance-sheet games until someone loses $12.8 trillion of a former superpower's money.

But this blog isn't just about Wall Street rentiers, transnational aesthetics, or the digital commons, though I'll certainly be talking about those things.

I work in the educational/university/media-industry, and publish academic works as well as less formal but still fairly in-depth research texts. However, I've increasingly felt the need for a more timely, weekly-based form of communication.

This will be a text-only blog for now, but in the future I'm hoping to expand into limited versions of audio and webcasting. I'm keeping it simple, focused, timely, and on-the-fly.

Stay tuned. The good stuff lies ahead.