iSkew

Transition

Wed, 06 Jan 2010 17:19:10 GMT

Obviously, I've moved away from this journal. I like what I've got on here and don't intend to shutter this or make it private so stuff can stay visible, at least not yet.

But just so I leave some breadcrumbs for where I live now:

http://twitter.com/dbrowell
http://feedbackagency.com/blog/
http://www.facebook.com/

And some other places you can probably dig around for like LinkedIn and Foursquare, etc.

-d

Fallen Apple (Dean & Whitney) on NPR / WVTF

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:50:20 GMT

Interview on the Fallen Apple exhibit/collaboration w/ me & @wpratt on NPR/WVTF - MP3 here:

Lead story: http://www.wvtf.org/
Images of the paintings on WVTF's site: http://www.wvtf.org/news_and_notes/
MP3 of interview: http://tinyurl.com/fallenapplenpr

"There's been a lot of talk around our region about the "creative class"-- and efforts, especially in Roanoke, aimed at attracting entrepreneurial and creative talent to the area. They are the knowledge workers and artists who some have theorized are a still-untapped source of economic growth nationwide. WVTF's Connie Stevens recently had the opportunity to watch two people in the so-called creative class at work. Listen as we hear how they work to un-stop a creative block-- by merging words, songs and paintings into a multi-media arts exhibit. "

Story to air on Weekend Virginia 03/22/09 and on Morning Edition on 03/23/09

Fallen Apple: Gravity of Life on Facebook with video:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Fallen-Apple-The-Gravity-of-Life/137805905087?ref=nf

I win at the game of life because I got NPR to play Iron Maiden and Public Enemy.

SAVE THE DATE: Fallen Apple: The Gravity of Life -- Roanoke Art Exhibit March 13th

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 04:15:37 GMT

Fallen Apple: The Gravity of Life
A Multidisciplinary Exploration by Dean Browell and Whitney Pratt
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=70832326334

March 13th, 2009
4-9 pm
The Water Heater, 813 5th Street, Roanoke, VA

In an unusual collaboration, a writer transforms a vision into words and an artist translates it back again, creating the world you'll peer into. For each character, writer Dean Browell used song choices, environmental, emotional and social clues to inspire the artist. Whitney Pratt took those concepts and clues, and through her own interpretation developed the characters in paint on canvas. The exploratory process comes full circle to create this unique exhibition.

YES. WE CAN.

Thu, 05 Feb 2009 01:37:53 GMT

I'm going to Bonnaroo.

I'm doing it alone, just getting a general admission ticket and going guerilla style with no idea of who I'm with or what the fuck will happen, but I'm going. Here by the grace of Corri go I.

NIN + BONNAROO = DEAN.

That is all.

Cool Bonnaroo video

Tue, 03 Feb 2009 21:43:00 GMT

sans NIN tho... a late add?

Doors That Lock Behind You (Complete Project)

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 05:14:23 GMT

Doors That Lock Behind You: An alternate history of and by Dean Browell
The opposite of an autobiography.

This novella presented as written, entirely un-edited. The project was created and posted as each chapter was written as an experiment in serial writing on Facebook and in conjunction with National Novel Writing Month.

You can download a PDF of the unedited novella for free here for a limited time:
http://www.skewedperspective.com/dtlby/index.html

------

I want to thank everyone who came along and read as I was writing and those who have found this project after I finished. The whole endeavor was literally writing without a net since I didn't have a topic until about five minutes before I started writing and by the end of the first chapter a few more wild hairs changed it again. It was clear after a few chapters that this wouldn't be a novel in the NaNoWriMo (50,000 words) sense, but rather very deliberately a novella. It was fun to write and certainly interesting to let the balloon into the air immediately after writing each chapter. That very act was strange and allowed even a planned story get heavily flavored with the influence of my surroundings at the time. While certainly about many places and times, it's also in a weird way a map of my last six weeks, sometimes prophetically.

Anyway, thanks for reading, it means a lot. Maybe over a beer (or the internet) you can tell me what you thought of it or the process.

Sincerely,
Dean

P.S. In case you're curious, here's all the music referenced:

"Closing Time" by Semisonic
"Modern Day Cowboy" by Tesla
"Lake Michigan" by Rogue Wave
"Bitter Sweet Symphony" by The Verve
"Kiss Off" by Violent Femmes (I)
"So What (live)" by Ministry
"Falling Slowly" as covered by Angela Hamilton & Brian Pluta originally by The Swell Season
"Shut Up & Let Me Go" by Ting Tings
"Other Side" by Josh Ritter
"Just" by Radiohead

I'm not saying the list would be any good in a playlist, so don't judge my mix tape making abilities on these selections or order. I probably do deserve some credit for not putting an NIN song in there (but they do get a reference).

Addison Jade Browell in Yorktown, Virginia on November 2, 2008.

damn.

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 18:28:42 GMT

From nin.com -
"File this one under lost opportunities.

"I'm very proud of the show we've put together for this tour and have been working hard the last few months to find a way to capture it. I had an amazing situation lined up that would have allowed me to film the show in 3D with James Cameron's team for a theatrical release as well as DVD / BluRay, etc. We had an extra date added to the tour that we were going to give away all the tickets for and have a filming party / thank you show.

"I made two critical mistakes. One was to approach a certain record company that owns some of the song rights about producing / funding. The second was to allow said company to fuck around as usual for months before saying um... no. We then achieved the impossible by finding alternate production / funding but the timetable is too rushed to get it filmed comfortably with the remaining time left on the tour. This tour and a lot of the personnel involved finish at the end of this leg, so we can't push filming into Jan / Feb.

"Deep breath...
This was an amazing tour and production - certainly the best thing I've ever been involved with and likely the final tour for NIN on this scale. Thank you to those who came out to see it and forgive me for having a Kanye West moment, but this was FOR SURE the best show of the year and any bullshit end-of-the-year poll you may read in the next few weeks that says otherwise simply has it wrong. Those of you who saw it know I'm right.

"The shows we have announced in 2009 and any more that may be announced will be a completely different approach with some different personnel and will likely be the last for the foreseeable future."

trent reznor

sorry

Sat, 22 Nov 2008 03:08:05 GMT

been busy. really.

but at our company retreat had a great time and got new headshots done, including some fun casual pics such as:

Meeting heroes. A 4-year-old's tale. (w/ new pics)

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 02:54:30 GMT

So today was a great day at Universal's Islands of Adventure. Lots of good reasons for my enjoyment, but one situation deserves retelling in particular: This morning, we had breakfast with Spider-Man. And during our visit with him, I got a pretty deep glimpse into my daughter Addy's psychology.

We weren't planning on doing any kind of character meals this trip, but this one was available and we wanted to kick off the trip. Spider-Man, Cat in the Hat, Thing 1 and Thing 2 all ran about as we ate a decent hot breakfast.

When we entered the restaurant, the group took the opportunity to use the restroom before eating. In the women's bathroom Addy started to get a little nervous about meeting Spider-Man. She began to fret over details such as: "What if Spider-Man's web things go off and shoot everywhere?" (Incidentally this line was repeated to the group in such a way as to suggest Addy was inquiring about boys and the male anatomy in general- to much blushing.)

She exited the bathroom and returned to the table to find her grandfather and I already chatting up Spider-Man.

"Look who it is Addy," we exclaimed.

And immediately her reaction froze in terror. She ran to my arms and buried her face in my neck. This lasted quite awhile.

Shortly, we were joined by Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Addy was much livelier with them, but their mischievous personalities translated well even through the foam and cloth, so they were easier to see as a cartoon.

Eventually, Addy spotted Spider-Man chatting up Thing 2 in the corner. We tried again, this time taking her over to ask if Spider-Man would sign her journal. (She and I are keeping a journal of her trip complete with stickers and spaces for autographs.) Spider-Man of course signed it, but Addy again froze and wouldn't look at him. At all. Even through two awkward photos.

During the meal we watched as the three galavanted around with other kids. Spider-Man, obviously trying to be nice, stopped by our table two more times to try and break Addy's seemingly icy reception of him (oddly reminiscent of a boy who can't take a hint). On both occasions Addy still wouldn't look at him. Her eyes stared fixated on any one thing nearby. However, she answered any question she asked. She was transfixed on a spot with her eyes, but her head was in the game. Spider-Man suggested that Addy could help him fight crime, that she was obviously strong. She wants to help people, right? "Right," she'd offer with a nod, as she intensely burned laser-vision hole into her cup of orange juice.

His last visit to the table was after we all watched Thing 1 and Thing 2 play with a girl's hair at a nearby table. Spider-Man surprised Addy with a visit and suggested that Things 1&2 were silly and wild. It sounded derogatory. He switched the subject to suggest Addy was Spider-Girl and that they were on the same team, fighting crime. A few more weird inferences and a nice good-bye to us all and he was off.

It would be easy to mistake Addy's attitude toward Spider-Man as just rudeness or actual dislike of the situation. But that would be ignoring the greater motivation and reaction here. Later, she would validate that there was more to it...

Throughout the day she referenced Spider-Man very positively. Enough to suggest it was one of the highlights of her day. Sure she'd also meet other characters from comics (Storm, Captain America) and her books (Grinch, Sam I Am) and take in lots of rides and activities, but it was clear meeting Spider-Man was important to her.

On the walk back to the car after an exhausting day she and I chatted. Again we reviewed her favorite parts of the day. But she offered her least favorite parts as well:

"Thing 1 & Thing 2. Spider-Man doesn't like them and he said I'm on his team so I don't like them either." Incidentally the Things made her favorite list as well.

Sure there's all sorts of disturbing material to work with there in a herd mentality and easily-influenced sense, but it was the confirmation that her seemingly bonkers and useless meeting at breakfast wasn't some weak excuse for just not liking him. In fact, her reaction (it turns out) was borne of real admiration. She was intimidated by meeting one of her heroes. Someone who wasn't supposed to be real. The fact that he was male is a part of it, but not as large a part as you might think- she did this in a way with the princesses at Disney before.

It was so very human of her to be uncomfortable and yet engaged. She wouldn't look at him and yet she hung on his every word (and changed her behavior). It reminded me of how mush-mouthed I've been in meeting playwright Edward Albee, a member of NIN and a few of my favorite artists and writers. Hell, half the time I can barely work up enough courage to get an autograph.

But there my daughter was... being awed. The unflappable love of life tripping a fuse in her emotional circuit board. It was a telling moment for me as a dad to see how she can be influenced and how she is, even now, picking who she wishes to be influenced by. It made me reconsider how she truly does pay attention to all I do.

There are no disposable moments anymore, if there ever were.

My daughter is growing up.

George R. Fotiades

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 23:09:19 GMT

GRAFTON - George R. Fotiades, 66, passed away Tuesday, Nov. 4, 2008, in Mary Immaculate Hospital after a short and courageous battle with cancer.
George was born in Astoria, N.Y., was raised in Perth Amboy, N.J., and was a York County resident since 1990. He was a veteran of the U.S. Army. George was a great musician, historian, conversationalist and friend. He lived to love and he loved to live.

George was preceded in death by the love his life, Laura Baker Fotiades, with whom he traveled the world, visiting and diving in some of the most beautiful and dangerous places on Earth.

His work as a consultant for Stone and Webster Engineering brought him to the Newport News Shipyard where he worked in E-45 until early August. A beautiful man with a striking physique, he used his strengths to always champion for equality and tolerance.

He is survived by two cousins in New Jersey, John and Gene Dowches; his fiancEe, Marie Valencourt; his loving dog, Katie; and his close friends, Georgie Stavros and Tony and Nancy Merendino.

Thanks to all George's doctors and nurses during his illness with special thanks to the care givers at Home Helpers.

Memorial donations may be made to the Peninsula SPCA, 523 J. Clyde Morris Blvd., Newport News, VA 23601, or the American Cancer Society, 11835 Canon Blvd. Suite A-102, Newport News, VA 23606.

A celebration of George's life will be held at 3 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 6, at Harwood Mills, Shelter 2, 500 Oriana Road in Yorktown.

Arrangements by Amory Funeral Home, Grafton. View and post condolences on our online guestbook at dailypress.com/guestbooks.

http://www.legacy.com/dailypress/DeathNotices.asp?Page=Lifestory&PersonId=119796444

Trent' election comments (and rare band introductions)

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 19:32:31 GMT

NINtastic

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 05:46:46 GMT

Holy shit, what a rollercoaster... last night I was emotionally drained... tonight what little emotional color came back was drained again and then physically wiped thanks to NIN and my first front-rail NIN experience (out of 7 shows).

Photos on Facebook
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2009093&l=560e4&id=97500200

On Flickr:
http://flickr.com/photos/26031958@N04/sets/72157608705935537/

And hey I made NIN.com!

Trent was chatty... at least at the prescribed time. He of course commented about the election: "No matter how good you think we are, it can't match yesterday." and now, "I'll have to find something else to write about... here's another soon to be out-of-date song..."

If you care, the setlist:

Setlist:

999,999
1,000,000
Letting You
Discipline
March of the Pigs
Head Down
The Frail
The Wretched
Closer
Gave Up
Me, I'm Not
Vessel
Ghosts 1
Ghosts 5
Ghosts 21
Ghosts Piggy
The Greater Good
Pinion/Wish
Terrible Lie
Survivalism
Ghosts 31
Only
The Hand That Feeds (no fucking GB/McCain background!)
Head Like a Hole
Echoplex
The Beginning of the End
Hurt
In This Twilight

Us. The Morning After.

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:27:29 GMT

As the final statistics come rolling in, one thing is for certain: this election was more representative of the actual citizens of America than usual. No one can deny the engagement of so many, that hopefully only inspire more to become engaged.

But if you will allow me a moment to reflect, I wish to say as a father what a remarkable feeling it is that my daughter will likely only remember her first president as someone who looks like some of her best friends. That she will remember her parents engaging in a political process because they saw her future reflected in their determination. But above all, that she will simply have no concept as to the obstacles that were placed before so many previous to November 4th, 2008. She will learn about them. She will learn from them. But she will grow truly knowing that leaders are not determined by the base they were born on or the supposed divisions of their skin tone.

And if you will allow me to be cynical, I wish to say: Racists, this has got to be a difficult day for you. It's not going to get any better. I'm not sorry. I'm sure your preconceptions and hate will try to overcome but I hope you realize there is finally something larger and fuller than an underlying oppression.

No matter your candidate, be humble. But it is okay to feel proud inside that we have something to feel humble about. For many people, even if it is not you, are feeling hope without cost for the first time in a long time (and maybe ever).

The following was a concession speech earlier this year. It is just as appropriate now.

"We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can withstand the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We’ve been asked to pause for a reality check. We’ve been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we’ve been told that we’re not ready, or that we shouldn’t try, or that we can’t, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.

Yes we can.

It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this world. Yes we can.

And so tomorrow, as we take this campaign South and West; as we learn that the struggles of the textile worker in Spartanburg are not so different than the plight of the dishwasher in Las Vegas; that the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in America’s story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea – Yes. We. Can."

-Dean

Full text here: http://politics.learnhub.com/lesson/page/4689-transcript-of-obamas-speech-yes-we-can

P.S.: Thoughts also on George Fotiades today, as we learned he passed yesterday. He was a frequent member of a merry band, (literally and figuratively) an especially talented guitarist and writer, and his energetic spirit was enlightening.

Oh yeah, you need to

Tue, 04 Nov 2008 04:25:16 GMT

Do it.

Do it in front of your children.

Do it with a friend.

Do it behind the curtain.

Do it on a desk.

Do it hard.

Do it soft.

Do it sweating.

Do it after hours of satisfying foreplay.

Do it after hours of unsatisfying foreplay.

Do it with a few other people.

Do it FFM.

Do it MFM.

Do it MMM or FFF.

Do it for the first time ever.

Do it for the first time in four years.

VOTE.

Wait in the line.

Participate.

Vote for who you want but VOTE.

Then go get laid. You're good looking and you deserve it.

yes.

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 02:14:44 GMT

Mtv Pretends it plays videos, chapter 43

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 13:18:47 GMT

Dear Mtv,

This image would have been cutesy if you had actually not ruined the music video industry for yourself and for bands like Pearl Jam, who openly ttthhhpppttt'd you.

love, Dean

http://www.mtvmusic.com/

---------

In other news, NanoWriMo.

I'm seriously gonna just write without a net. With an idea on hold right now and no desire to go any particular direction, I think I'm just gonna start writing. Maybe sorta live-write with chapters thrown up on Facebook or something. I dunno. But i think I'll do it. After the stringent idea-gotta-get-out of Script Frenzy this year with "Lane In The Fast Life" it's actually nice to not be in my normal need-based writing mode. I dunno. Are any of you NaNo'ing it?

Happy Halloween! Free mask!

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 13:11:14 GMT

http://www.236.com/news/2008/10/27/free_holoween_costume_9837.php

BO BBQ

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 00:38:04 GMT

Sooooo.... Barack Obama had a rally in Richmond today at the Richmond Coliseum where 13,000 seats were filled (allowed capacity; slight less than normal because of media space). More than 7,000 were not allowed in... Pretty impressive to draw more than 20,000 total to an indoor venue in the middle of a work week (Palin drew the same number outside on a bank holiday last week in this "red" state.)

It was an amazing experience. The diversity was so obvious and completely reflective of what I once cynically assumed was a staged group behind Barack in videos-- no, the entire crowd was like that. The actual day itself, for all it's waiting was very positive and full of new friends and mutual support. It began at 6:45am and didn't end until we all staggered out around 2:30.

If you think Barack Obama speaks well on TV, in person he's practically perfect. Less about charisma and charm and more just about poise, an intelligence that is nearly intimidating, and a practicality to his phrasing that is entrancing. More to the point, his off-speech moments are even better (somehow). He managed to make Warner and Kaine look aggrandizing (and for any ego those two have, they aren't exactly dripping with overconfidence). Of course seeing Wilder speak briefly reminds us how important the dramatic rise of Obama is from a minority perspective, and at the same time shows us how Obama completely transcends Wilder's issues by being (gasp!) inclusive.

Anyway, the actual crowd and rally experience with 13,000 people - most of whom I can safely say would be considered middle to lower class in terms of wealth - was as much of the event as Obama. This was a rally not dominated by polo shirts and $200 sweaters, but by a much more representative electorate of all stripes. When Obama asked the loaded question of, "Who here makes less than $250,000 a year?" it may seem obvious, but of course the entire place raised hands and didn't even bother looking around them to see if anyone voted differently (not so fast Wilder).

By the end I'd gotten a chance to shake his hand. Throughout the event, once I made it to the floor, I had a really nice view. For me personally it was a landmark moment for my family. Speaking to my mother, after the rally by phone, we confirmed that should Obama become president that I would then be the first person in my family (either side) to see a president in person like that. (Finally, I beat my Dad at SOMETHING.)

Lastly, I can honestly say that I personally was proud of Obama. I've never felt like that about a candidate. Hell, most of the time I'm mind-numbingly disappointed in the people themselves enough that I have to hold my nose and vote. But with Barack, it's different. The catcalls of socialism are so amusing. First off, they use it as a vague term, not at all separating the various kinds of socialism (communism, Scandinavian democratic socialism). And secondly they use it with no sense of irony as the federal gov't takes over a bank, restricts more freedoms than ever, continues a failed war on drugs and more. They point at the shiny object of interpreted words in a pick-up conversation, while practical implementation of socialist concepts actually happen under their noses. There's little discussion of what is actually right and would be helpful. I'm largely in agreement with many Libertarian ideals - but I also recognize that until we get this nation on a track, there will continue to be a chosen few are essentially born on 3rd base, while more and more aren't even born in the stadium. It is idealistic to want to pull the rug from everyone and say, "hey we're all free and equal!" It's even worse to wish upon those people a lack of assistance while Rome burns. Guess who has a second home when Rome's in ashes.

Okay, I'm ranting. Anyway. It was really something. I'm happy I was there. Photos and video...

More photos on Facebook here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2008943&id=97500200&ref=mf

More videos on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/user/iskew

Powell Endorses McCain, Thoughtfully

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 14:21:40 GMT

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27265369/

Proud.

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 23:18:54 GMT

I just wanted to say how proud I am of Roanokers today. Sorry I couldn't be with you for Obama's visit (and he got his hair cut literally next door to the ND&P office)! But it was very cool how the area stepped up with the spotlight on them...

Seeking A More Authentic New York? Try Brooklyn

Tue, 14 Oct 2008 23:33:16 GMT

Thought you'd like this...

----------

Seeking A More Authentic New York? Try Brooklyn
by Mike Doughty

There's a stock market doohickey that came with my iPhone; you click it, and have instant access to incomprehensible statistics. It came with the thing, along with a calendar and a web browser, and as such, can't be deleted. I've been using my iPhone mostly to read Moby Dick -- which cost me 99 cents and is deletable -- and I was mildly offended that Apple now considers it a no-brainer that I would want to check my stocks every two minutes, as I do my email, while waiting for the train. I loathe the market-statistic culture -- it's like hanging out with a guy obsessed with baseball stats who's done a lot of coke -- except this guy makes me feel bad about myself for not being a math Jedi, and bitterly resent him for always getting to fly business class.

In the past couple weeks, though, the stock doohickey has come in handy. I'm working on a record, and between takes I've been checking the market and gleefully reporting to my cello player the current status of its down-the-drain-ness. That's right, gleefully. I'm one of those New York artist people that fervently hopes, in spite of myself, that an economic catastrophe will bring an inversion of Travis Bickle's rain -- a cleansing tsunami that will wipe all the money and the hedge funders from the streets of this city, which I came to at a time when all the girls you met in bars wanted to be Debbie Harry, not Carrie Bradshaw. We fools actually believe that widespread financial doom will magically reset the clock to 1990, Basquiat will rise from the grave, and we can all triumphantly return to cheap space in Williamsburg.

I'm not one of those guys that pines for the charms of a Times Square rife with porn and crime. The internet may have killed the porn palace, but as yet, to my knowledge, you can't buy rock cocaine on eBay, and thus, if you seek grit and squalor, it's still out here somewhere, you may just have to take a different subway. I really am no longer suited for the edgy, paranoid city of my youth -- my paranoia enhanced by the drugs I was taking, in which I'm unlikely to be indulging again, even if that laundromat on 7th St, or the guys on the stoops on 10th St resume their avocations. I mean, despite my glee, my heart hopes for Bloomberg's third term, on account of his promise to build bike paths.

It dismays me to hear other artists entertain this delusion that a recession will restore their scary city, and by extension make them 19 again. The meaning of avant-garde is the vanguard -- we're supposed to be blazing a trail. To me this means embracing change, for better or for worse.

Still, if I can calm my desire to seek revenge on the moneyed crowd blowing us out of our old neighborhoods, I am nonetheless left with a desire for a just correction. Maybe a little Schadenfreude for people that bought million dollar lofts in Bushwick, for crying out loud, but mostly a hope that the young artists eager to join our energy are able to. I now live pretty far out in Brooklyn, where there's nothing to do but walk in the park and eat jerk chicken, but that's my vibe anyway. I see young artists here and there moving in, and I really hope that if they put up a new Williamsburg out here, it won't just be cleaning up a little for the office commuters to come.

Maybe, with a little forced sobriety in our economy, this dream of a mixed-race neighborhood that could at once be an artists' enclave and a reliably cheap place for New York's minority working class could be realized. Gentrification, contrary to appearances, is not an eternal force -- it didn't exist before the 70s. Also contrary to appearances, there isn't a bottomless barrel of recent MBAs who want parquet floors and wine bars. Artists, take heart; we may never get downtown back. But there's a whole lot of Brooklyn left.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mike-doughty/post_204_b_134637.html

On travel and an only child's belongings

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 22:27:01 GMT

I write this from the Pensacola airport where apparently the time-shifting island of Lost has a sister airport. Besides swallowing my luggage on the way in, it now conspires to strand me in Atlanta, assuming I can ever get there.

It sucks, I'd rather me home, but at least I have my stuff.

I am an only child, and the wonders of the back seat of my parents car has fewer amorous connotations than it does memories of dozens of trips to Florida, Tennessee and Pennsylvania. Florida was the most frequent destination, usually beginning at 3am in a sleepy Yorktown garage as Dad pulled the car out of the driveway with a humorous (to him): "Wally World here we come!" Dad said this every time we began a journey. Mom scoffed. I groaned, sort-of amused beneath a veneer of R.E.M.-broken sleep. Of course, I now say this at the beginning of any long car trip with my family (to lesser reactions).

It was then I learned to judiciously select what to have on hand at any given time so that I am never bored. Every kid wants to take their stuff with them on trips. I would select several of each kind of toy so that at any moment I could re-enact or create scenarios in my spacious backseat universe. Coupla He-Man figures. A handful of Transformers. Later it would be the particular set of cassette tapes to go with the Walkman. I do remember completely freezing up the night before a trip when my mother suggested I only take one or two of each toy. This new limitation was devastating for someone who cross-checks and dissects every decision. My over-thinking was legendary even as a child.

How can I play effectively with just a Battle-Damage Skeletor and Optimus Prime? (Would she count Optimus' trailer as a separate toy?) Are we traveling to someplace with water? Perhaps the comic I loved the most, Iron Man #175 (given to me by an uncle, it started a longtime love of sequential art)? It was nerve-wracking. Later, choices of music were easier since I simply didn't own much -- in retrospect an amazing assertion. For one entire trip to Europe I must have listened to Tesla's "Mechanical Resonance" through six countries over and over... In the middle there I learned to ween myself from my toys and focus on daydreaming out the window. Creating fantasies of people jumping all over landmarks and flying beside airplanes. They even started whittling into concrete plots and eventually stories that I'd start writing down.

Fast forward. For today's particular predicament, I have another selective batch: my laptop and PDA for a constant work tether; a new book I bought at Fort Morgan, American Costal Defenses 1885-1950; Michael Palin's Diaries 1968-1979 (my of-hours business trip staple); my Nintendo DS with Civilization: Revolution permanently wedged in, and a copy of the latest comic issue of The Red Star. Perfectly normal reasons to be carrying those things, but there's a loftier purpose...The Red Star is one of the most exquisite examples of thoughtful world-building, alternate history and careful, stylized art direction. The Coastal Fortress book was picked up because of the interesting history of star-shaped architecture in 1800's military bases. And Civilization, while also a favorite game, is a time-waster entirely centered on creating and stewarding a culture and alternate history.

I have a creative project idea that revolves around a writer who obsesses about world-building for his next story to the detriment of his love life and personal relationships. Which means I get to create the world he's creating. No, the irony isn't lost on me, hence the idea.

So, I make use of my time. Contextually it's very different from the back seat of a Buick on a 12 hour trip, stopping at Shoney's for every breakfast. But it's still the same ol' me thinking too hard and manufacturing a personal responsibility to always be creating, always be engaged.

A Yuengling by my side at the airport bar, staring at the window where I should have been able to see my plane to Atlanta by now, I watch the Dodgers playing in a TV above me. It's very likely that I'll be stranded in ATL at best, worst even this airport, farther from rescue. But while frustrated, I needn't be lonely.

The only-child's arrogance: Why be lonely when I have me?

Watching my Dodgers at the airport bar

A look at eight months ago. At my original fire.

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 02:14:59 GMT

Bear with the period-piece ephemera, but I hope it articulates, a bit, what I saw and still see in our presidential possibilities...

"Just a Circle"
From February 1, 2008

Interesting night.

I picked up a very wound-up Addy, who feel asleep in the car as we drove, and travelled to a restaurant/bar in Roanoke on Melrose called The Venue. In the car, I'd tried to explain to Addy what we were going to, or why before she nodded off. She knows basic geography, that she lives in Virginia and Virginia's in the U.S.A. So the idea that someone is the President of the United States wasn't totally beyond her. She asked if she could be president someday. I said yes. She asked if I wanted to be president someday. I said heck no. I asked her if she wanted to be president some day. She said heck no.

Waking Addy up, we strolled inside as the night grew dark. Inside, we encountered what looked like 150 people sitting, standing and reverberating with a palpable energy. We luckily found some seats on a corner stage the speaker's weren't using. Removing our jackets, we settled in.

Addy was fabulous considering how tired she was, and also considering she isn't a fan of loud, participatory noises (like thunderous applause). And even though we were late, apparently we were there in time for most of the speakers.

The leaders of the rally were very organized and seemed to be pleasantly surprised by the turnout (considering they were expecting 70 or less). Note that I often don't agree with most Roanoke politics (any side) but there were a few local politicians present. The mayor spoke well. Easily the most effective speech came from VA Delegate Onzlee Ware, who had driven in straight from sessions in Richmond (only to go back in the morning) to speak at the event.

Ware asked us to look around. He proceeded to remind those who had lived through, heard of or merely read about the civil rights movement that the movement itself took the courage of more than just blacks. He reminded us that Obama is also just human-- not to expect, as many do, for a black man to be three times the man that we would expect of another. But more than anything Ware seemed genuinely inspired by the crowd before him. We surprised ourselves in multiplying our own enthusiasm.

---

I want to note that I have always been at least fleetingly politically active. When I was much too young to understand politics I worked with Delegate Shirley Cooper and her sons for most of her elections, occasionally also assisting with other campaigns such as Mary Sue Terry. While I wasn't explicitly a Democrat as I grew in my personal philosophies (neither party seemed particularly welcoming to over-stated goth/alterna-kids) it was a Democratic slate that I worked for, handing out apples at fairgrounds and stickers at football games.

It wasn't long before all of that stopped and other bits of life interrupted my political engagement. Always a voter, I simply grew too sick of hypocrisy in either party to draw a straight line for allegiance. In college I participated in only a few major causes, notably awareness issues of rape and domestic violence and race/poverty. Sure I leaned left in many areas, but my more pragmatic side probably looked a bit Libertarian even then. Fiscal responsibility wasn't really my forte, as my debts made possible by Plan 9 and concert-going showed.

Post-undergrad I did become fleetingly involved with Nader's 2000 campaign. Nothing too engaged, but I did get so frustrated after one debate that I made a horrible t-shirt at the screenprinting shop I was working at: "The puppet robot and the puppet idiot make me want to Ralph." Did I vote for him? Yes, but only because I was in Virginia. Had I been in a less "red" state at the time I would not have. I always thought that the Republicans should have seen a post-Bush backlash coming because if Ralph did really cause Gore to lose in those key states, than the combined votes of Nader and Gore nation-wide certainly showed a majority of America was uneasy with the pendulum, all other election issues aside.

Fast forward eight years. And I have to admit that there is a dream playing out before me if Obama becomes the nominee. I see a hope that Addy will grow up not seeing the cracks and uneasy seams in our country's race relations like I have. That she will begin from a tabla rasa that will keep her mind from wandering to the rusty ideals still standing there from uneasy, incorrect historical dogma. I am not so polly-anna to think that she will grow up struggle-free in regards to race. Or that there won't be some seams in the fabric. But it would be amazing if in her conscious mind there was simply nothing special about being president and also being black. Would it be the same in the gender category was well if Hillary was president? Certainly. But the Clinton dynasty is hardly the most healthy. Moreover Hillary's distaste for the transparency Obama desires is telling enough. Clinton is part of a political machine that Obama has moved on from. She's coal to his wind.

---

Addy and I looked around the room at The Venue. All ages, races, sizes, shapes, classes... They were all there. And in the same moment that it was clear they were there, it was clear that they were not there; the presence of such differentiation brought about the obviousness of commonality. There was no overriding trait that we had in common at the core except that we were just human beings. It was really, strangely, poetic and it's hard for me-- a gen x cynic to the core-- to articulate how much it meant.

Addy captured smiles as she played with an unlit candle on the table and listened.

I didn't ensure Addy could say Obama's name or encourage her to chant. This isn't about brainwashing a near-4-year-old, it was just important for me and I was happy to have her there. It's about her in my opinion, not for her. She was tickled that I was smiling on my own as we listened.

After the speeches, we shuffled through the crowd and shook some hands. We picked up a t-shirt.

For the first time in my political life I was completely putting myself in someone's corner. For once I didn't feel that a candidate I supported wasn't being duplicitous or insincere in the slightest. In fact in the debate later that evening, Barack invited and baited those who doubted that sincerity by suggesting that all formerly "closed door" meetings with entities like the energy and healthcare companies be broadcast on C-Span for anyone to see. Banish the lobbyists. Throw open the curtains. Make this about us. It means that far more importantly to the history of this country we're not trying to elect a black president, we're electing a president who doesn't want to be president the way anyone else in recent memory did. He wants to be the first clear president.

I wondered and re-wondered whether to write this narrative at all. If I should post it only to friends on my LiveJournal blog, or to a wider swath among Facebook friends. Or bigger still, to anyone in public. I decided on all three. I'm not an overly political person publically (I just get in my sarcasm at times), but I'm engaged right now. I feel like I have someone in this fight. That the choice, almost literally, is clear. That a selection and installation of this person would shake up this country in all the right ways. It'd beat the grass and bring out the snakes. It'd call a lot of fair-weather Democrats on their bluffs. It'd change everything.

And in even some small way, it'd alter reality just enough for my daughter so that it'd be a whole new world for her to remember.

Finis.

...

P.S. Roanoke Times Story on the Rally: http://www.roanoke.com/politics/wb/149166
(Note to Rob Johnson, Addy's not elementary-school-age, she's a "big 3" as she likes to say; but it's a common mistake.)

P.P.S.
I can't believe I'm linking to Fox, but this was an interesting video and for some reason Fox chose Monty Python's John Cleese help moderate (?); it's a perspective on the debate that shows many sides of relatively typical citizens (just bear with the badgering by the Fox host):

listening to "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2" on Blip

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 14:35:09 GMT

What if what you're looking for is invisible?

listening to "Drag - Placebo" on Blip

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 12:36:47 GMT

Gotta love Placebo.