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Ghost
10/1/05 14:01 - permalink - email - category: Image

Roving photojournalist extraordinaire and international man-about-town Jake Appelbaum has been shooting with color infrared film for several months. He shot this image of me somewhere in San Francisco.

I've compared his shots to many of the Photoshop filter techniques for simulating IR and have reached the conclusion nothing beats the real thing. My favorite aspect of infrared is the way it captures the eyes as the entrance to a dark, entirely separate dimension.

Three rolls of excellent IR shots to be found in Jake's flickr gallery.


Vlad Spears: ghost caught between the wavelengths.

Photo by Jacob Appelbaum.

Photo License: Creative Commons - Some Rights Reserved.


Samuel R. Delany - Aye, And Gomorrah
9/29/05 22:02 - permalink - email - category: Read
Driftglass territory.

I don't know how I missed Samuel R. Delany in my traversals of the speculative fiction multiverse. Reading the short stories collected in Aye, And Gomorrah I've landed in strange, beautiful, undiscovered country.

Most of the stories in this collection were written in the latter half of the 60s, a few were born in '70-'71 and a single odd tale from '88 was added for good measure. Delany, a black, gay science fiction writer, wove self, times and cultural context into his fiction. With this single volume, he's landed on my top ten favorites list.

The social commentary and insights on the human condition he spins are just as relevant today as they were in days of smoke and roses. Some of these insights are simply wonderful indications of a great writer. Others, such as 60s-era racial issues ("There's this little nigger girl, Bim" - from a situation in Corona) force the realization of their continued relevance today, a sad statement on the same separating bigotry almost half a century later ("They're so poor, and so black" - Wolf Blitzer characterizing our national disgrace in New Orleans).

Delany writes with intense descriptive power. The colors and images in his words are reminiscent of another of my favorite authors, Roger Zelazny. No coincidence then: I'd just made the comparison and found Delany dedicating the masterpiece of gender hierarchy versus gender equality of We, in Some Strange Power's Employ, Move on a Rigorous Line to R. Zelazny, even naming the main character Roger. Again, how did I miss this writer?

You'll find stories here of humanity's future ranging the stars, where there are still family problems and fucked-up kids (The Star Pit), interplanetary thieves, artists, law-enforcers and the honor amongst them (Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-precious Stones), riffs on self, reality and their intersection (Night and the Loves of Joe Dicostanzo), fairy tale style fantasy on growth, authenticity and self-awareness (Prismatica), brilliant re-imaginings of the old adage "the more things change the more they stay the same" (Driftglass) and many other mind-openers.

My to-read queue is stacked 30+ deep at this point, but I've placed three of Delany's longer works (Dhalgren, Nova and Stars In My Pocket Like Grains Of Sand) right on the top. The books beneath can wait.


Modern Death
9/27/05 22:38 - permalink - email - category: Incantation

The days have stretched from post to post, and the nights are worse.

No doubts remain: I've a problem. When my brain becomes conundrum occupied and cannot find the requisite solution or even a semi-viable explanation on which to base the next step of attack... progress on other endeavors slows to a trickle. My fiction consumption rises, perhaps because I'm casting about for answers, but little else is accomplished.

My brain's been engaged in mono-focus overdrive these last few weeks.

The question: Death is the single most unifying experience of humanity. Why do we hesitate to bring our combined effort and will to bear upon it?

I think of my grandparents, my friend Jake's father, my grade-school English teacher Mr. Hafner, Dwayne Goettel, John Balance, Robert Moog, Francis Bacon, Linus Pauling, Susan Sontag, Robert Heinlein, Theodore Sturgeon, Roger Zelazny... losses to the world, their ongoing, living influences absent from our collective future. All those patterns of existence stilled, stopped. Then there's you, and there's me. How do we let this continue?

I'm at a loss to explain why we still have not placed death's eradication at the top of our priorities. How is it trumped by making war, by hoarding gold, by pointless labor for pointless ends, by the same circles our feet have trod for tens of thousands of years?

Is our rut so deep we can see nothing but the sides of the pit we walk in?

Part of what we're witnessing is the tail-end of a battle between religion and science. Religion was our best prior attempt at minimizing death and its impact. We didn't have the tools to destroy death, but we had highly evolved human pliability of mind to believe death into the fiction of a heavenly state. Now our great golem walks with word upon tongue, religion a potent foe of the lengthening of our spans. There's a lesson here: just believing isn't the same as doing the work.

One could argue everything we see as human culture is a product of our reaction to death, and there may be some truth in this position, for without awareness of our eventual demise we would likely live in vastly different fashion. Knowledge of certain death drives short-term planning. It channels effort into areas of immediate gain and damns the consequences because you won't be around to worry about them. Our reaction to death creates waste and unsustainability. In our haste to live, we aid and abet death in its task.

Death is our great nemesis, the villain of the story. Here, in modernity, we have the tools to defeat it.

Why do we keep giving it the starring role?


Related: Culture Of Life


Rumors Of My Demise
9/21/05 23:10 - permalink - email - category: Flow

To quote Twain, "have been greatly exaggerated."

Rumors of existential crises, internal philosophical debates on death, meaning and the value of individual actions are, however, entirely supported by empirical analysis of observed data.

I am capable of supreme distancing, a part of myself rooted to the firmament above, staring down in awe and wonder at the turns reality can take. The other parts, standing amidst, could really use some of that right now.

As my good friend William claims, "there is nothing good or bad, only thinking makes it so." I keep in mind the balance must maintain, the cycle shift, the thoughts turn and silver be revealed at last.

I'm thinking... make it so.


vs.xoxbox.js
9/8/05 20:16 - permalink - email - category: MaxMSPJitter

Another Daevlbox graphic controller! I found myself making my 500th custom matrixctrl pictstrip and monkeying up state logic for it, so instead I hatched a replacement jsui: vs.xoxbox.js.

vs.xoxbox.js work file image.

Born specifically for traditional xox-grid style rhythm programming (patching some chaos-driven beat machines inspired its creation) it has four states:

0 off / 1 on / 2 accent / 3 beat

with configurable parameters for each: background, frame and facing colors, gutter and frame width, display time ms for the beat indicator.

Clicks toggle off/on, and command-clicks toggle accent. Send a bang to vs.xoxbox.js and it outputs current state for rhythmically triggering a sound or video source.

As the latest Max/MSP allows the creation of custom inspectors for jsui controls, I have yet more fun in store tonight.


Revolution
9/4/05 22:47 - permalink - email - category: Politics

Feeling the call of revolution put me in mind to re-read a classic on the subject: Robert Heinlein's The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress. One passage has struck me as being particularly cogent, given our present circumstances:

"Followed a long time during which would have been possible to forget anything as unlikely as revolution had not details taken so much time. Our first purpose was not to be noticed. Long distance purpose was to make things as much worse as possible.

Yes, worse. Never was a time, even at last, when all Loonies wanted to throw off Authority, wanted it bad enough to revolt. All Loonies despised Warden and cheated Authority. Didn't mean they were ready to fight and die. ...We were as non-political a people as history ever produced. I know, I was as numb to politics as any until circumstances pitched me into it."

Yesterday I prophesied this: "If you have enough money to be one of the people Bush calls "his base," you'll get the inevitable reconstruction contracts and tax breaks once those poor blacks are all out of the way in Louisiana."

Today I read this on forbes.com: Halliburton Subsidiary Gets Katrina Deal.

BushCo couldn't respond in time to save thousands of lives, yet they planned in advance to give the millions of dollars in "natural disaster" reconstruction contracts to themselves. How convenient then, that Bush cut or denied annual funding to fix the levees in New Orleans repeatedly, with each year worse for hurricanes than the prior.

Circumstances, my friends, have pitched us into it.


Lazarus
9/3/05 21:27 - permalink - email - category: Politics

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." - Emma Lazarus

These words from Lazarus' sonnet "The New Colossus" are inscribed within the Statue of Liberty. They have been used to represent a vision of America which I grew up with, and grew in scope to encompass The American Dream as an extension of a fictionalized but inspiring history: here, in America, the melting pot of the world, we are all equal and we are all free.

How did we get from that vision to the present sorry state of the nation? We've moved from "Liberty and Justice for All" to "Money Talks." Simply watching Fox News, that bastion of right-wing media integrity, I was aware New Orleans would be a disaster two days before Katrina hit. We all knew, including the director of FEMA, your representatives and the many corporate influences which combine in the person of George W. Bush.

Why wasn't every single bus, truck, helicopter and plane mobilized from surrounding areas to evacuate the danger zones? Why are the people still suffering and dying in New Orleans predominantly dark of skin and poor?

Because money talks.

If you have money, you can leave easily. If you have enough money to be one of the people Bush calls "his base," you'll get the inevitable reconstruction contracts and tax breaks once those poor blacks are all out of the way in Louisiana. It costs less to let people die than it does to move, house and care for them, and the Conservative and Christian Right which currently dominate the political landscape have never shown much mercy to those they scapegoat as responsible for the decline of our nation.

It's easy to forget just how recently women became eligible to vote, how recently slaves were freed and blacks became full citizens, how recently we jailed our own people for being Japanese, how recently we realized the Industrial Revolution brought with it environmental and health consequences, and just how recently science and technology transformed our world into one of human proportions instead of ignorant make-believe guided by a divine hand.

Some people are still smarting after being on the wrong side of those battles. Some of them, in the form of our current administration, are determined to change the tide of the war.

Yes... war.

We have a government which has proven, many times over, that only the wealthy matter and all others are second-class citizens.

Your government doesn't care about you.

Chief Justice Rehnquist died today. This same uncaring government is now poised to change the laws of our land through two or more appointments to the Supreme Court. These changes will benefit only the rich and corporate, and the ideologies of those who keep them in power.

Since Bush's election, I've heard endlessly about the death of the Left. The Republican talking heads have repeated the funeral message and demonized every group associated with Leftist principles and values.

Don't believe it.

If you're not one of Bush's millionaires, you're a member of the Left. If you're a union member, an honest educator, a policeman, a firefighter, a car mechanic, a waitperson, an artist, a student, you're a member of the Left. If you voted against your interests and now find Bush's "ownership society" means you won't own anything, you're a member of the Left. If you're one of the tired, the poor, the huddled masses, you are a member of the Left.

Now is the time for all decent human beings to rise from the dead, stand up and fight like hell. This can be a bloodless battle if you register to vote and send these despicable people and their corporate backers packing in 2006 and 2008.

Elsewise, the future is more like post-Katrina New Orleans than The American Dream.


vs.asquare.js
9/2/05 08:23 - permalink - email - category: MaxMSPJitter

I whipped up this new jsui controller during my layover in Phoenix:

vs.asquare.js in progress.

So far it's only about 500 lines of messy code, but works well for the basics. Assigning the side values to various softsynth parameters is great fun, and will be even better once I get a central drag point coded. It also functions as a horizontal/vertical slider, range control or combo volume/duration control. A few more bells and whistles and I'll roll it into the Daevlbox tools release.

It's named after the central character of Edwin Abbott's Flatland, which I read (yet again) while in the rust red wilds.


Culture Of Life
9/1/05 00:06 - permalink - email - category: Futurism

In mid-August I received a weekend call of the sort we all pretend will never come, and by the following Monday night was on a plane headed for the midwest. Ruby, my grandmother, responsible for so much of what makes me a decent human being, was in hospital with pancreatic cancer.

Ruby, somewhere idyllic.

I was at her bedside each day with my grandfather and other family members: watching her breathe, listening for the occasional slips of recognition and coherence between the drugs and dementia. I kept returning to thoughts of her past life and how, for each and every one of us, it all comes to these few final moments here upon this mortal coil.

I am enraged.

We let life slip away, pointlessly. It's as if because "we all know" it will eventually come to this, we stop short of what we could be and collectively fulfill the prophecy. My grandfather carried the photo above through the entirety of WWII, yet soon it and his memories will be all that remain. We could create a paradise of immortals, filled with humans vibrant and alive as my grandmother was then, if only we'd straighten our priorities.

This is not simple idealism. It's absolutely possible if enough of us want it together.

Here's what I want:

Let's honestly assess the morass of religion for what it is: superstition and social control. Remove the cross and we can see beyond the torture instrument to human self-determination. Let's accept ourselves for what we are and take responsibility for life and death. Imagine a populace placing life above all other considerations, including nationality, skin color, gender, sexual preference and, especially, money. Let's get on with being human and doing what humans do best: create.

Let's start with creating ourselves. If we pour as much effort and budgetary priority into medical science, bio-tech and saving lives as we do into killing and destroying for profit, imagine the diseases we would never worry about again. Imagine living a life knowing cancer and Alzheimer's were maladies of history. Imagine cures for heart disease, HIV, hepatitis C, Parkinson's, multiple sclerosis. The list goes on and on. We have minds capable of cracking them all.

Imagine living a life as long as you want it to be. Imagine being in the driver's seat without anything else, especially old age, dictating how it was going to be lived. Imagine not having to figure out what you want to do with your lucky 80-odd years, only what you want to do next. Don't roll your eyes, wag your finger and say "It will never happen." Look around you... look at all of our human triumphs and advances, each one preceded by the same wagging finger.

It will happen.

The question is: "When?"

It's too late for my well-loved grandmother, but we may yet attain it. We're able to return to the primordial Garden. We may be unlost. The wandering may come to an end.

Imagine a national budget in which defense spending is only a small fraction compared to education, medicine and science.

Doesn't wanting that sound like a better idea than wanting what we have right now?


the weblog of Vlad Spears
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