Words are the only victors.

 

 

7.17.2024

How could you create a city of legend?

Once upon a time there were cities of such renown that they attracted visitors from far and wide and developed nearly legendary reputation. The grandeur of great Rome, the Forbidden majesty of Beijing, the beautiful epoch of Paris, the tolerance and wealth of forgotten Bisnaga, the aspirational promise of New York, the byzantine bridge between continents of Constantinople, the countercultural promise of a new culture forming in San Francico, the stately pleasure of Xanadu, the desert licentiousness of Las Vegas.

Indeed, many of them survive today, though oft evolved beyond recognition, their original virtues visible now mostly in tourist kitsch.

So let’s say you wanted to take a nowheresville and somehow infuse it with the buzz that will create global awareness and a desire to visit?

What values or virtues would your aspiring Chamber of Commerce project seek to project?

How would you begin?

7.16.24

On the Life of Gods

Aside from orphans, almost everyone starts life with a firsthand experience of the presence of gods.

We spend time with them in our most formative first minutes, days, years, when they are luminescent and powerful beings. For most people, I believe these gods are benevolent creators of your universe. In some cases I suppose they are regrettably terrible, absent, cruel or worse. But most of us experience a deific presence in our lives for the first few years.

Then, later, we go through a period when the gods become slowly diminished, falliable, perhaps even out-of-touch and silly. In this, our adolescence, we are driven by biology and our peers to view our gods with a most critical eye. They disappear into the normal and take on the guises of everyday people. Gods who walk among us, go to work, stand in checkout lines. Often this makes us not very forgiving of their foibles. And of course, they have foibles – even gods do. And what a letdown this can be, to recognize that the all-powerful are not.

And in time, though lack of belief or some other atrophy of the fuel that powers the devine, Gods wane. They stoop, hunch, forget. We watch them fall into the powerlessness of a forgotten former god.

And then they are gone.             

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Rushdie's amazing novel, Victory City, has me thinking about the lifecycle of the gods and goddesses of creation, the myths they inspire, the cities and worlds they dream into creation, and how these dreams are eventually forgotten...

 

7.14.24

I’m flying to Paris today, and that has me thinking about creativity and intellectualism and writers and poets and painters and all the rest. And specifically:

Why do some places develop an outsized reputation as a hotbed of creativity for a while other places never seem to be acknowledged for generating any of the creators who come from there?

Why is Paris or Austin branded in the public mind as cities for people who want to create, while places like, say, Minneapolis are noted only as a strange outlier when folks like Prince hail from there?

Let’s start with – in my mind – why Paris?

There’s a gallic tradition of intellectual ferment. For an (exhaustive) hagiography of this evolution, To The Finland Station offers a sort of James Burke “Connections” history, if not a real explanation for “Why there?”

I don’t know that this really explains why Paris in particular developed a reputation for being a mecca for artists, and particularly writers. I suppose all I’ve seen in my many visits there is a mecca for tourists and service-industry folks who are surly about having to serve them. But then, perhaps that’s just the nature of a tourist destination in a major city. And this week, between the Olympics – celebrating sport and athleticism rather than creative pursuit – and the recent French election, which seems to be interpreted as a triumph for the right wing, it’s hard to really feel much of whatever might have fueled this collective creative desire in centuries past.

So what about other places? Well… Florence during the Italian Renaissance is often spoken of in similar context. Silicon Valley in California gets love (and money!) as a place where creative entrepreneurs go to create machines of wealth generation (though not-so-much literature or art). When I was vising Beijing in 2015 there was a strong feeling of entrepreneureal energy and creative hustle – at the time I judged that from the inflow of massive amounts of capital, and the wild-west spirit of the Chinese internet at that time; my understanding is that the Party didn’t love it and so the party didn’t last. Austin, as I mentioned earlier, is associated with some talented filmmakers like Richard Linklater and Robert Rodriguiz, and certainly the “Slacker” creative spirit was strong there in the nineties; lots of us channeled that Birkenstock no-rules approach into making games. Since then it’s become part of the Austin brand, though I struggle to really name great creations that have emerged from there. SoHo, The Village, Atwood’s Toronto Alley, TinPan Alley, Berlin for a time, and a few other cities have all received a lot of love as centers for fostering works of creation in different fields at times.

Is the idea of a fertile creative hub city a romantic myth created after the fact as a sort of Chamber of Commerce branding to drive tourism? 

Austin certainly feels like that to me when I go back home.

In a few hours I’ll land in Paris, and I will look around for people actually MAKING things other than Aperol Spritzes. I’ll report back if I see any.

Vine and Fig Tree

 

7.13.24

My fellow Americans,

I’m here today to clear the air and clear the path for our nation to move forward into the future.

In 1973 I began proudly serving in the United States Senate. I remember still walking into that august chamber, can still hear the roar of legendary voices like Robert Byrd, Strom Thurmand, the great Ted Kennedy, Diane Feinstein. These men and women differed in their politics and their beliefs – and often their debates were heated - but they never differed in their common resolve to form a more perfect union.

I shared that conviction with them, and I carry that spirit with me now.

We men are imperfect creatures. Women too, though Jill might disagree with me on that.

We live but a short time, and all we can do is strive to use what time and strength we have to make the world a better place for those who come along after us.

In all, I have faithfully served my country for more than fifty years. And I believe we have made a powerful difference. Under the administration of my friend Barak Obama we brought healthcare to every American even while helping guide the country to a swift recovery after the financial collapse of 2008. On foreign shores we led our troops in the valiant fight against terror and made the world safer by ending the reign of Osama Bin Laden. We made sure that every American had the right to marry the person they loved in 2015. And we worked hard to combat the threat of climate change and a rapidly heating world.

Then, a few years later, I inherited an America that was hurting from a terribly managed pandemic that took too many from us. My predecessor had sewn division at home and among our allies abroad, fanning the flames of hatred on these shores and emboldening autocrats in Europe.

And as president, I rose to these challenges. My amazing team and I managed a soft landing to the economy. We increased jobs. We extracted American troops from Afghanistan. We worked with our allies in NATO to keep the world safe for democracy. I could not be more proud of what we have accomplished over the last four years.

We still have a lot to do.

As a nation, we face unprecedented complexities. Too many Americans still struggle to make ends meet. And overseas, in the Ukraine, in Palestine, and elsewhere, innocent civilians are too often forced to cower in fear. The ocean levels continue to rise, and I don’t need to tell the good people of Texas that it’s getting hotter every year.

We still have a lot to do.

I believe – I know – that I am committed to this challenge, ready to keep fighting that good fight until my last breath.

What we have to do is that important.

But leadership isn’t about me.

It’s never about the person who thinks only of themselves.

It’s about doing what is best for this great country we are trying to build, not about personal agendas.

And that’s why I’m announcing today that I will not run for a second term as President of the United States of America.

We have built a strong bench of great leaders who are ready to step up to the challenge of this land, of this world.

So rather than let our national – this global – discussion be about me and concerns for my age and health, I want us to return the discussion to something that matters more: the health of our country, our planet.

In the coming days, we will announce a new pair of Democratic leaders for the United States of America. And my team and I will stand behind this duo as they continue our essential mission.

George Washington, upon stepping down from his role as the first president of the United States reminded us of the scripture:

"Everyone shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree, and there shall be none to make him afraid."

And based on what I understand is the will of the people, I shall do the same, unafraid in the knowledge that my administration is handing over the reigns to a strong country, and a world that is getting better to a wise and powerful team who will lead us into the next four years.

God Bless you all, and God Bless the United States of America.

 7.12.24

I'm trying to move my writing about technology to another place to keep this one focused on ideas that explore the creative impulse and, yep, books. 

https://texasmouse.substack.com/

 7.3.24

I find poetry difficult. It's a form of expression through wordplay, using the distance between precision and slipperiness in language to engage with thoughts and feelings. Feels like using words to create a shadow-box puppet in order to look at ideas. 

And it was said by Lazarus Long, "A man who reads his verse in public may have other nasy habits." So there's a certain cringiness associated with poetry in our culture, as if anyone who takes feelings and words seriously (even playfully!) is most assuredly not very well adjusted. 

Using playful words to describe the crocodiles that are approaching you in murky water isn't a respectable response; you're supposed to pretend you don't see them. 

 7.2.24

The Killing Floor

You've fallen into the Killing Floor now

The bad news is, that means your life will soon be over

The worse news is, it might not been as soon as you'd like

Your killer is not one you can possibly outsmart or defeat

The Killing Floor itself makes escape impossible because the walls are too high and there is nowhere to hide

Your murderer is what Gavin deBecker called a Process Predator

None of the specifics of your personality or nuance of your appearance matter to them

There is nothing you can say or scream out that will change their mind

(The screams excite them)

And it is the prolonged thrill of the hunt and slay that is their whole goal

I feel for you, though we are on opposite sides of this war

I side with your killer, though their cruelty disturbs me

Hopefully it will be quick for you, as painless as possible

I hope so

I'll give you a burial at sea, 

and in that moment at least one god will notice you

And then, like in that poem about children in a war zone

I hope when the game is over you get to start a new life

And then your killer will slink away, satisfied, proud even

And go to sleep beside her god

Making soft humming sounds to express her joy

Purring.