Bill Maher Explains It All

AHA! Now I get it! Anyone who denounces Pink Slime is a "liberal," and anyone who doesn't is a "conservative."

So says Bill Maher. Speaking about two Republican governors who spoke out in support of BPI, Inc. and Pink Slime:

I think the Republican party is at war with common sense… I think Republicans live in a world now where whatever a liberal says, no matter how sensible, is automatically evil, wrong, and needs to be fought with the fervor of a starving racoon on crystalmeth.

So if I'm reading this him correctly, anyone who is opposed to PS is a "liberal." Those who aren't are, by default, conservatives.

So. Now I understand why some folks think that since I didn't issue an unequivocal condemnation of PS, it follows that I don't believe in global warming or the climate crisis. Because I'm a REPUBLICAN, stupid.

Okaaaay. Now I get it. Whew. So glad to have that little mystery cleared up.

Gotta go. Off to the county courthouse to correct the error on my voter registration card.

"Beer Wars," "Content Creation," and Crap Shoots

Three years? Somehow it seemed longer than that (which, heh, is probably due to the way I've spent the past three years). According to Anat Baron (and she should know), it's been three years since her film "Beer Wars" debuted. (*1)  Her comment on the film and the anniversary are worth reading in whole, but I'll quote this part of it here:

I still get asked about a follow up film or a sequel. I don’t think that folks understand what it takes to produce and distribute a feature film. Just because everyone has a digital camera these days doesn’t mean that they’re making a feature-length movie. That millions of people will see. And so, if you haven’t realized from my tone, there will not be another film. It takes too long. Costs too much. And in the end, viewers want content for free. So, for me the economics just don’t add up.

I had a story to tell. I told it in the best way I knew how. It’s a documentary so you can’t just make shit up and manipulate the facts.

Ain't that the truth? Especially the "make shit up" part and the "viewers want content for free" part. Making films, like making books, is absurdly difficult and EXPENSIVE and a total crap shoot. Will anyone want to see the film? Will anyone want to PAY MONEY to see the film? Will anyone read the book? Will anyone plunk down some coin to BUY the book?

We "content creators" never know. Which is why, ya know, it's a crap shoot. Most "content" is built on faith and a prayer and a shitload of hard work.

Anyway: As Anat points out, in the three years since BW debuted, everyone and her mother has cranked out some form of beer-related visual "content." (Sorry. Can't help myself. My favorite shoot-a-hole-in-that-mother phrase is "content creator.") And she hopes that someone else will, as she says, grab the baton and make a new cinematic statement about craft brewing.

Which is another way of saying she hopes the dreamers and doers and suckers (like me. Like her.) keep coming. Here's to us: the craps-shooting content creators!

________________________

*1: Full disclosure: I am in the film (BRIEFLY); I participated in the live panel discussion that followed the film debut in Los Angeles. Anat is a dear friend. I also weighed in --- at, cough cough, length --- on the film, its reception, its meaning, etc. in a ridiculously long blog series.

No Neutrality Allowed

This is am image of Kyle David Kipp The meat book is still about ten months away from publication, and already, thanks to Pink Slime, it's another version of the beer book. Not that I'm surprised. Disheartened, but not surprised.

Let me explain: When the beer book came out, I was criticized by many in the craft beer community because I had not written an all-out attack on the "big" brewers. Critics assumed that I MUST be on the big brewers' "side." (As if there were sides to be taken....) And, worse, that I'd been paid by a big brewer to write the book. (Nothing could have been further from the truth.)

I didn't write Ambitious Brew in order to "take sides." I wrote the book because I thought the history of beer in America would enrich my understanding of what it means to be an American. Period. End of story. It never occurred to me to "take sides."

So, too, the meat book: I wrote it because I didn't know anything about meat, its place in American society, how it's made or why. I spent researching the book, and, no surprise, I learned a great deal about meat and its place in American history and society.

When the Pink Slime uproar began, I thought that  knowledge could add to our understanding of Pink Slime. In my mind, the PS uproar smacked of conclusion-jumping and fear-mongering, and I hoped that if people had some facts, they might slow down and rethink the conclusions to which they'd jumped.

Silly me. (Stupid me?) The pro-PS crowd immediately concluded I was "one of them," and the anti-PS crowd concluded that I was a shill for Big Ag and Corporate America.

Neither is true --- but the food "debate" is so mired in hostility that neutrality is (apparently) not an option.

Live. Learn.

"Death to Word"

Death to Word? So suggests a writer for Slate. My question is: Why the HELL does anyone use Word in the first place?

If there is a clunkier, stupider, less elegant word processing program out there, I want to see it. (I don't want to USE it. I just want to see it.) (*1)

Way way way back in the day -- back in 1985 --- Word was a lovely, elegant program. Intuitive, easy to use. Smart. I loved it.

Then one day --- it wasn't. It was this incredibly, well, stupid program that was hard to use and made zero sense to me. I was annoyed. I even called up Redmond to ask "what gives, people?" (This was back when you could call Microsoft and get a real person on the phone. At that time the company had, what?, 15 employees?)

A nice guy at the other end of the line told me, with a sigh, that, yes, the company (read: Gates) had re-invented Word and this was the new version.

I've never used it since then, at least not intentionally. There are times I have to translate documents into Word format and it takes too long and causes me to swear too much.

So. Yes. Death to Word!

_____________________

*1: I read somewhere that that early version of Word was based on a program called Xywrite. I was not surprised to learn that the program I've been using since 1987, Nota Bene, is also based on Xywrite. NB is also intuitive, simple, elegant. (*2)

*2: For years, I resisted switching to a Mac, because NB was and is only available for PCs. But about a year ago, I thought "Doh! The really GOOD writing software is written for Macs! So switch, you idiot." So I'm waiting for the new iMacs to come out --- in June --- and then I will. And I will not be sad to say bye bye the world of the PC. I've used one since 1983, and owned one since '86, and they feel and behave like relics of that era.

The Sweetest Words A Writer Can Write

"The End."

Yes. A bit more than five years after signing the contract for this book, and five years (more or less) after finally starting it (the beer book came out the same week we negotiated a contract for the meat book) and minus the two years during which I did what felt like nothing because of an arm injury ----

I'm finished.

Well, okay, more or less. Here's an insider tip: Manuscripts are NEVER "finished" until about four hours before they go to the printer. Seriously. You'd be amazed at what happens during those last few hours.

Plus, nothing's finished until the editor says so, and I just sent it to her. (As in: about ten minutes ago.)

But you get the drift: About a year from now, the manuscript I just sent will appear in public as a book. 

Am I happy? I dunno. I'm too exhausted to know if I'm happy. This has been a serious slog. And if I EVER decide to write another book this complicated, you have my permission to lock me up. Permanently.

But perhaps my life will return to normal: Lots of blog rants. More time with my family and friends. More time to cook, read, walk, hang out, etc. Plus, hey! Tomorrow I'm leaving for Florida and my first real vacation since 2008. (Am I excited about doing NOTHING but drifting in a pool for the next four days? Yes. Yes. Yes.)

But lest anyone misunderstand: I wouldn't trade the privilege and pleasure of what I do for anything. Not ANYTHING. And it is a privilege to spend my time sitting in a room thinking, reading, and writing. I never forget that. I never take it for granted.

Lou Gehrig had it all wrong: I am the luckiest person in the world.

 

Capitalism, Us/Them, and Finding the Middle Ground

Another quickie post (because, yes, I’m still working on the manuscript --- and so close to the end that I’m finally enjoying the writer’s bliss zone). (*1) But I’m taking a moment to comment on two essays I read this week. 

The first is by Alexis Madrigal writing at TheAtlantic. The second is a response to Madrigal’s piece by Rob Horning writing at The New Inquiry. 

Madrigal’s essay is about the mechanisms of online advertising tracking. Trackers “follow” you around the web, and then sell the info they’ve gathered to advertisers so that said advertisers can “target” audiences with appropriate advertising (read: with ads that will make you want to buy what they’ve got).(*2)

 Much of Madrigal’s essay is devoted to the nuts/bolts of how this works. (Fascinating stuff, by the way.) But that’s all by way of his main point: What does tracking mean for us in our “real” lives (if indeed our online lives are separable from our non-online lives)? And is tracking a bad thing? 

Madrigal’s conclusion (for now) is that it’s a necessary evil (my term, not his): Online tracking is the price, literally and figuratively, we pay so that the web/internet can remain a mostly “free” resource. The folks at the New York Times, for example, can post much of its content for free, or for a minimal price, because ad tracking helps pay for that content. In his words:

There’s nothing necessarily sinister about this subterranean data exchange: this is, after all, the advertising ecosystem that supports free online content.

In his view, the alternative to tracking is the paywall, and as far as he concerned that poses a greater danger: 

Sure, we could all throw up paywalls and try to make a lot more money from a lot fewer readers. But that would destroy what makes the web the unique resource in human history that it is. I want to keep the Internet healthy, which really does mean keeping money flowing from advertising.

Horning disagrees. (*3) In his view, Madrigal’s conclusion amounts to a sell-out (no pun intended) to “capital.” By conceding the need for tracking, we’ve ceded our “selves,” our humanity, to capital. In his (more eloquent) words:

 The question here is about what the internet is for, and whether it allows us to imagine alternatives to capitalism or simply serves to allow capital to co-opt the alternatives generated by technological development.

But one might argue that the fact that it seems as though we can’t have an internet not fueled by advertising is a sign that the internet is already unhealthy, sick unto death. And perhaps we are all sick too if we can’t imagine a way to collaborate and communicate without also commercializing it, that we need private incentives to generate and share information . . . .”

And:

 There’s nothing not sinister about that, including the alibi generated through its association with our access to “free” content. That we think its free is indicative of our delusion: We are paying for it with personal information that may be used against us in perpetuity.”

Here’s my (admittedly paltry) contribution to this discussion. Despite their differences, Madrigal and Horning agree on one point: Tracking and advertising are an us/them situation. In their view, trackers/advertisers are “them” horning their way into our lives. (Madrigal’s “us” view, I should add, is markedly more measured than Horning’s. (*4))

I disagree. In my view, capitalism is less about us/them than it is a participatory system from which all of us benefit. Let’s consider, for example, Apple, the very model of capitalism, and, thus, presumably a “them.”

Apple has been criticized lately because it manufactures its products in China under allegedly less-than-stellar conditions. (I say allegedly because it’s not clear to me that anyone involved in the discussion is being completely forthright.) A strike against Apple. (*5) But consider the other positive ways in which Apple affects our lives. Consider, for example, the iPad.

Many people spent years imagining, designing, and developing those little wonders. They got paid for doing so. Apple’s marketing people earned money thinking about how to “position” the tablet in the market. When people visit an Apple store, they enounter a crew of employees whose job it is to help them understand and perhaps buy the iPad; that a crew earns money. When you buy an iPad online, someone in a warehouse earns in income by boxing your purchase for shipping (using packaging that others earned money to design, fabricate, and deliver) so that the woman in the brown uniform and driving the brown truck can deliver it to you.

Nor do the collective benefits of the iPad end with its delivery to your door: The iPad’s success elevated Apple’s stock and so its shareholders, including myself, earned more profit from it.

That’s obvious to the point of being simple-minded. But sometimes the obvious is what gets overlooked. Capitalism is less an us/them proposition than it is a participatory system: All of us, every last one of us, profits (literally) from this system. (*6) Tracking is less an us/them equation than it is a particularly efficient mode of stoking capitalism’s engine (and a device that, yes, many people have earned incomes inventing, designing, and implementing).

So perhaps one step toward “imagining” a better web/internet, and a better capitalism, is rethinking our stance on the conflicts (we believe/imagine) it engenders.

_________________

*1: The writer’s bliss zone = the moment when he/she realizes that, wow, this is truly, finally, almost a finished work! Hey, this is going to be finished; it’s going to be a coherent whole, worthy of sharing with the rest of the world.

*2: Here’s my own recent encounter with tracking: I’ve been looking for a shoulder bag for five years and not had any luck. (I’m not that fussy, but most bags are less about practicality than about fashion, in which I’m not interested. Unless “practicality” is a fashion statement.) But about six weeks ago, I finally found one that came as close to perfection as I was likely to find. 

But it was expensive: “suggested retail price” was (if I remember correctly) $235. I found it online for $178. I’m a writer; I make shit for income. (Boy were my taxes easy to do this year!) So I was willing to wait --- for the price to come down; for a coupon; for a “sale.” 

I’ll be damned. Twelve hours after I found said bag, I was visiting some site or other --- no idea what, but probably a news-related site --- and there, at the of the page, was a banner ad, containing my bag and a hefty discount coupon. I clicked the ad, bought the bag (and set in motion the chain of events I describe in the body of my essay). 

*3: For lack of any better place to put this: Horning does not address one of Madrigal’s main points: How the hell do we pay for content? That’s a biggie.

*4: About the trackers, Madrigal writes: “None of them seem like evil companies, nor are they singular companies. Like much of this industry, they seem to believe in what they're doing. They deliver more relevant advertising to consumers and that makes more money for companies. They are simply tools to improve the grip strength of the invisible hand.”

*5: Frankly, I don’t get the criticism, especially because the critics are busy tapping out their critiques on devices, Apple or otherwise, built under similar conditions, probably while wearing clothing and shoes manufactured under similar conditions, and probably while sitting in a chair manufactured under similar conditions.

*6: At this point, many of you are rolling your eyes. “Has she never heard of Enron? Did she sleep through the stock market collapse/scandal of ‘08?” Yes, I have, and no, I didn’t. Of COURSE the system has “bad” players. Every endeavor has its shares of incompetents, devils, and bad guys. 

But it doesn’t follow, logically or otherwise, that the system is bad. I’ve experienced more than my fair share of incompetent physicians, to name one example, but they don’t make me want to toss modern medicine out the window. (Indeed, I thank the universe pretty much every day for its wonders, without which I wouldn’t be here to write this.) There are bad lawyers and evil politicians and shifty bankers. But the law, and our system of governance, and banking survive and function well because most players are good, not bad.