Monday, June 17, 2013

Getting over Winesburg, Ohio Syndrome

Last week had a lot going on. I turned 32. I try not to make a big deal about birthdays, but one can’t help but reflect on his life on his birthday. This year I found myself reflecting on what I thought I would be when I was 16; a writer, or maybe an artist, or a filmmaker. I believed in these possibilities pretty firmly well into my twenties. Then somewhere along the way I gave up those dreams and went to grad school for library science. I still don’t know why I did that, except that I love libraries and hopefully I will one day actually work in one.

The trouble with the writer/artist/filmmaker dream is that I almost never write/make art/film. It seems all I can do just to write in this blog a couple of times a week, and sometimes I can’t even do that. I’m just not an innate writer. I’m a reader that wishes he could be a writer. Still, I get some personal satisfaction in writing now and then, and from time to time someone tells me they liked something that I wrote. So, here’s to writing as a hobby. Cheers!

Another fantasy that has faded over the years is what I might term the Winesburg, Ohio Syndrome, which has to do with self-inflicted exile, something that many a great writer engages in. I call it Winesburg, Ohio Syndrome after the Sherwood Anderson book of short stories called Winesburg, Ohio. I must confess I haven’t read this recently (not since 2005 by my reckoning) but I remember that all of the stories somehow relate to one character, George Willard, who represents the author. As it happens, George Willard is the only character who leaves Winesburg and makes a name for himself in the big city. Each of the stories showcases the various peculiarities of people in a small town, and subsequently vilifies small town life as repressive, isolating, alienating, almost some form of imprisonment. 

Growing up in the small town of Dryden, NY, I sensed a similar resentment to small town life from my peers. I guess it sort of rubbed off on me, because I started planning my departure in my teens, and eventually found myself in Philadelphia at the age of 23, not entirely due to my own planning. I will readily admit that my desire for self-exile was based on some completely unfounded self-perceptions, which I think could be accurately termed delusions of grandeur. 

City life has had its positives and negatives. I’ve met a lot of great people and had interesting experiences. I don’t regret the decision of moving here, but it has made me realize that some of my dreams were unrealistic, and it has given me a respect for what I lost by leaving my hometown. There are certain social opportunities a small town affords that can never be fully realized in a city.

Now I am coming to a point where I may consider something completely different for my life. I must investigate the opportunities. I don’t think I’m ready to move back to my hometown, or the vicinity thereabouts. But maybe I am? I know that I still want to see more of the world, but not necessarily move there. I don’t think I like the idea of Philadelphia as a home-base.

Anyway, these are the types of things I think about on my birthday. Right now, I am not looking to leave Philly, but I could see it happening. Moving back to Dryden isn’t the only option though. Other places under strong consideration are Asheville, NC, or somewhere in Tennessee. 

Here’s a picture of me on my birthday:


P.S. That night someone asked me, “Why Ron Paul Forever?” but I sort of shrugged it off, not wanting to get into a political conversation. In retrospect, I think the answer is somewhat simple. Obviously the notion of Ron Paul being “forever” is at best wistful, and a bit ironic. But I would say “Ron Paul Forever” because, as politicians go, Ron Paul seems to avoid political power games when possible and I think we need more politicians who are not afraid to express the views of their constituents. I think most politicians follow the party line, and Ron Paul deviates, and I want to see more deviation. So that’s my answer, in case you’re reading this Colleen.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Poison/antidote

The term "pharmakos" later became the term "pharmakeus" which refers to "a drug, spell-giving potion, druggist, poisoner, by extension a magician or a sorcerer." A variation of this term is "pharmakon" (φάρμακον) a complex term meaning sacrament, remedy, poison, talisman, cosmetic, perfume or intoxicant. From this, the modern term "pharmacology" emerged. 

(From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pharmakos)

Thus far, my choice for best album of 2013 is Abandon by Pharmakon, a noise project by someone named Margaret who I think lives in New York City. I've seen Pharmakon perform twice, once at the good old Germ Books shop that used to be on Frankford Ave. (I loved that place.) But I don't really remember that performance very well... Then earlier this year I saw her at Kung Fu Neck Tie. That was very memorable, and one of the best shows I've seen in a while, although I wish I'd worn ear plugs.

The experience of the show was to be part of a group of people, mostly men, standing in a circle in a darkish room around a table on which there are some kind of machines. And there is a smallish feminine humanoid pressing buttons on the machine and apparently screaming into a microphone but the screams are only echos heard on the background of a larger rumble so deep that it shakes your being. Not much happens other than she paces back and forth somewhat hunched over screaming something indecipherable and handling the controls on the machine. But it was still really intense to witness, to feel.

The live show can't be duplicated. If you watch a YouTube video of it I'd say you are missing ninety-nine percent of the experience. This new record Abandon takes you closer, but it is much more polished and a different sound entirely. I haven't heard previous Pharmakon recordings as they have mostly received limited release from small labels. Last Thursday I was down at AKA Records on 2nd Street and there was Abandon for sale on CD, so I bought it without hesitation. I've probably listened to it almost ten times since then, but it's difficult to explain my fascination.

The record opens with a scream that morphs into a high pitched multi-toned droning ring. There are some vocals, screamed and distorted. They are more recognizable than you hear at a live performance, but you still have to follow along with the lyrics in the booklet to understand them. There are four tracks, each ranging from six to seven minutes long. Then there are blank tracks from number 5 to 98, each six seconds long. Track 99 is twenty-seven minutes long. This track distribution somewhat reminds me of certain editions of the Broken EP by Nine Inch Nails, from back in the 1990s, which was a very good industrial album. I wonder if it's a nod. To me Pharmakon emits a similar energy to early NIN, but updated for our times.

I don't really want to go into describing how the noise variates throughout the album, or make comparisons to other projects. I will say that in a few tracks I detect a distinct rhythm and melody which I've find to be uncharacteristic of most Power Electronics. It makes them almost song-ish, in a real "song" kind of way.

Noise is a weird sort of genre to collect and in particular industrial or post-industrial noise, which I would liken to the horror genre in film. The idea is to be uncomfortable, profoundly uncomfortable. I remember when I first started getting into collecting this, back in 2008, I got very enthusiastic and wanted to share my findings with other people, but upon trying to play them a sample or two it was difficult to convey the reasons for why it is worthwhile. The best way to listen is alone. For this reason, what I take from the genre is the theme of alienation. You confront yourself when playing a noise CD. If you allow yourself to sit through whole songs and actively listen to them you are forced into introspection. The live experience also tends to be alienating. Communication is futile. This isn't really party music. It's meditation music.

What I find interesting about collecting this genre of marginalization is the paradigm shift that develops when it becomes a regular part of your life. I remember those first few years of being an industrial noise fan and suddenly feeling that there were more and more aspects of noise influencing our culture, that noise was on the up and up. Maybe it is, but I now wonder how much of this sentiment comes from having it on my radar. That is to say, because this is something I like, now I hear more about it, mainly because I'm paying attention, but nothing else has changed.

I've noticed this is true in general, in how people think. When you form an opinion about a subject, or start to care about it, then you are more sensitive to where and when the subject fits into whatever information you encounter on a regular basis. This generates sympathy for that opinion. Perhaps it creates a bias.

Recently, in a conversation with a friend, he commented that the perception that things are getting worse in society is largely due to one's fixation on negativity and an increase in the availability of information to verify such a viewpoint. So if you come to the opinion that a negative trend is growing in society, you will start to become more aware of evidence to verify this while perhaps blocking out other contradicting factors. It's an intriguing idea and when I first heard it, I thought the point was that society is not changing all that much, or that people aren't acting all that differently. But I can't agree with that.

Perhaps the point is to ask what is getting better, focus on that, and stop complaining. I can't do that either. I'm a natural born complainer. But for the sake of argument, let's take the terms "worse" and "better" out of the parameters. Let's instead ask, is society growing or dying? Is society more stable or less? Are communities in our society generally stronger than in the past, or more broken? Are individuals better socially acclimated or worse? These are pretty subjective questions, and we are really only limited to our own life experiences to verify them with accuracy, and even our life experiences taint our objectivity.

I like to look for historical evidences. I tend to look at forms of collective power like censorship and taboo, which change over generations. So for instance, early Hollywood had the Motion Picture Production Code which banned showing certain lascivious, lewd, or violent behaviors. But this was abandoned in the 1960s, as the movie rating system formed to allow for previously forbidden things to be accessible to adults. They were only movies after all. At the same time, behaviors prohibited by the code have been replaced by ideas prohibited by the establishment, academia, and the media. I don't think I need to give an example. Just think of something that would never be in a mainstream movie now but would have in the days of the old code. If you make a list of these these you would have a good idea of the new movie code.

Values have changed. I question the new values. But there seem to be many who like the new way. Perhaps they see it as the antidote, what I see as the poison. The Wikipedia quote at the beginning of this blog post discusses the word pharmakon and it's root pharmakos, and demonstrates that the definition encompasses both poison and antidote, that which changes or makes different, bodily or mentally. Enter "pharmakon" into Google Translate and you get "drugs." Better or worse, it could be one or the other. It could be both at the same time. This reminds me of a passage from Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose when Brother William asks the herbalist Severinus if he keeps poison in the infirmary. He responds:

"Among the other things. But that depends on what you mean by poison. There are substances that in small doses are healthful and in excessive doses cause death. Like every good herbalist I keep them, and I use them with discretion."

I listen to Abandon by Pharmakon and think about how our solution can become our problem.