OK, so some nerds from Seattle (and elsewhere) want to change the world. They finally got the first run of their new book, and they’ve mostly set up a North American promotional tour. Go see if your city is on their itinerary.

Back in 1992, I was reading William Burroughs and cyberpunk and screed-ifying on dialup BBSes. I remember going to a really amazing cyber-arts festival in a warehouse space, where all kinds of stuff was exhibited and discussed. There was a guy wearing a ‘bodysynth,’ which was a MIDI controller hooked up to EKG monitors (flex a muscle and it plays a synthesizer). There was a cyberspace stage play, which took place over email (and was about as exciting as it sounded). Mix and dance music with big ol’ video screens and stuff… That was all new at the time. A giant pendulum sculpture with video screens hanging in a room. Stuff like this. But one of the most amazing things I heard at that fest was an announcement that Mosaic was at a pre-release milestone. I didn’t get it then, of course.

Anyway. There was cyber this and cyber that. Remember ‘Lawnmower Man?’

Around that time, there was this TV thing. I’m pretty sure it was ABC that showed it. A mini-series called ‘Wild Palms.’ I didn’t watch it at the time. I can’t recall why.

I watched it. Some episodes yesterday, finished up today. Man. What a suck. What an unbelievable suck-ass piece of garbage. Parts of it were interesting, but maaaan… I had heard it was bad, but nothing could prepare me. I’m eternally embarassed for the people who made it. I thought maybe there’d be at least one or two redeeming qualities, but.. Geez.

So much of it is intentionally self-conscious, but there’s so much that’s just suck. It’s hard to talk about how worthless. It’s basically a poorly-written ‘Twilight Zone’ episode with a cyberpunk sheen plastered on. Some very self-conscious film noir aspects, dreams about rhinoceroses, meaningless trips to Kyoto, and large buttons labeled ‘FLOOD.’ There’s some creativity to it, but it’s just so gawdawful.

There’s a moment at which the main characters are introduced to William Gibson. And it’s actually William Gibson. The woman says, “This is William Gibson. He coined the term ‘cyberspace.’” And Gibson says, “And they won’t let me forget it.” Then he walks offscreen, never to be seen again.

But it reminded me of the Lost Cyber-Weekend, and Darek and C-SAW (Commerce Street Artists’s Warehouse). In 1992, I should have been living in that part of town and writing and just dreaming shit up.

Bang.

For those not concerned about the direction the nation is taking, please click the above.

Update: Ok, so maybe I could have been a little more clear.

There are two messages in the graphic: 1) Convert or die, and 2) Teaching evolution in schools leads to school shootings.

This worries me because we’re moving incrementally towards those ideas being accepted in a mainstream way.

See, where *I* come from, Jesus is a nice guy who wouldn’t point a gun at you, God is love, and teaching evolution leads to people who are scientifically aware. Where I come from, science doesn’t some how make you ‘not matter’ to God or anyone else; it’s just another thing you know.

Calling these people ‘wack jobs’ doesn’t address them. Christian nationalism is on the rise. They want the country, and they’ve got enough power and political machinery to take it. The anti-science crowd already got Bush to toss them some red meat by saying intelligent design should be taught in schools as science.

‘Pirate Utopias,’ the book I’m reading in my profile pic, is pretty intersting.

It’s one of those books you hear about for a long time and then finally get ahold of. Or at least that’s how it worked for me.

The central thesis is that pirate communities along the Barbary Coast, and especially Sale (there’s an accent aigu over the ‘e’) on the west coast of Africa just outside the straits, were all much more egalitarian and highly-developed than the cultures out of which they grew. Brutal, sure, but also democratic and upwardly-mobile. That is, a slave could renounce Christianity and adopt Islam, and end up the captain of a ship, or even a fleet, or even effectively in charge of Algiers (this actually happened). In their home cultures in Europe, they were the lowest of the low, and had no prospect whatsoever. But they got captured, and after aposasy, the world was their oyster, if they were capable.

So imagine a society made up of and ruled by the lower classes of Europe, North Africa, and the Ottoman Empire, all remixed through Islam.

There are a lot of interesting parallels to draw from this, a lot of metaphors to consider. I’m also considering how piracy and capitalism go hand in glove, in the sense that there’s always a pirate.

I’m about a third of the way through. It’s a small book, but some of it’s pretty rich with ideas and terminology, so going is slow. And that’s fine.

A tidbit for family historians. My family’s historians, that is.

Everyone knows the Oregon Trail. Among other places, it went through the Blue Mountains of northeast Oregon, and I’ve ‘blogged about those mountains before. There’s a town in the middle of the Blues called Meacham, which I’ve also ‘blogged about.

My surname is one of a number of surnames that’s genetically and phonetically connected to the name ‘Meacham.’ We won’t argue over which spelling is the most correct.

So. It turns out that there’s a Polk County, Oregon, in the Willamette valley. It was incorporated three years before James K. Polk signed the boundaries of Oregon into law, thus separating it from England. The county history is short on explanation of this three-year lag. It also turns out that my family is related to James K. Polk, in a way that’s never been abundantly clear to me, but which I’m assured is well supported.

Now, if you decided to travel the Oregon Trail, there was a point where you had to make a decision. In the Snake river basin of Idaho, just about where present-day drivers have to figure out if they want to take I-86 or I-84, pioneers had to figure out if they wanted to continue along the Snake, or cut across present-day northen Nevada and California, and approach Oregon’s Willamette valley from the south.

This alternate route is today called the Applegate Trail, after a certain family which pioneered it. The Applegate Trail didn’t find much use, because it was much longer and drier and brought more contact with the natives (who were understandably perturbed).

And it also turns out that there’s some controversy about the name, albeit the slow-moving kind of controversy that historians engage in. It seems that there was a book published in 1947 called ‘Applegate Trail,’ which established the name which has been hard for historians to shake.

The Applegate Trail ends in Dallas, Oregon.

Dallas, Oregon, is in Polk County.

And who published the book ‘Applegate Trail’ in 1947?

A man named Walter Meacham. Thanks for asking.

Yesterday, when it was nice outside, I was full of energy.

Today, it’s rainy.

Speaking of Jon Stewart….

Best. Daily Show Bit. Evar.

So far, my favorite bit of political theater surrounding this whole Rep. Foley (R-NAMBLA) thing has been the episode where Rep. Tom Reynolds appeared before the press surrounded by children. This served two purposes: It was an attempt to show that children were safe around Reynolds, if not Foley, and it also guarded Reynolds from specific questions the press would be reluctant to ask in front of the underaged.

I mean, right on. Bravo. Nicely played. Find some children, use them as human shields for your cowardice and buck-passing.

In case you’re not up on this story, I’ll let Jon Stewart explain. It’s got, you know.. adult language and stuff.

Take me up and help me. Pull me into the room and tickle me. Demand that I eat the mango slices. We’ll all laugh together and there’ll be no doubt. The wood floor, the oriental rug, the bookshelves. Our group dancing around in circles.

Not a literal dance. Just a flow. Movement. Motion. Anything. Smoke a J. Drink some beer. Talk about that time. I dunno. We’ll read a book to each other. Pass it around. The shelves are full of books and little toys and gifts people gave.

Wise statements. Very wise, wise things. Just talk and laugh at ourselves for being so wise. So very wise.

The calm ease in the air. Wallpaper the color of ease. Shutters keep out the… whatever. Even though they’re not closed. Magic boundary.

We’re all fine inside. Just fine. This isn’t a party, just the way we do things.

I am be-Skyped.

Skype being the over-the-internet phone thing. Sometimes I’m the early adopter, and sometimes I’m the late adopter. This time I’m late.