...with a Bang on the ear

um, yes, another week has gone by without a post, and yes, um, I have been on the road again doing my bit for global warming, this time traveling (not quite) the length and breadth of the UK to catch up with friends, enjoy some really good food, and hang out in the heartland of the Daily Mail enjoying really good music at BangFace 2009.

The trip began with a visit to Proper Chris, a friend from the Have' currently ensconced in Oxford with possibly the most amazing job in the world, encompassing sixteen hours of teaching a year and an almost miraculous lack of pressure to publish. He proved to be a most excellent guide to the city and environs, and took our constant exclamations of "how Hogwartsy!" in his stride. Oxford is a beautiful city, especially in the glorious sunshine that miraculously graced our visit. Highlights for me included the obligatory tourist visit to the Eagle and Child (the pub made famous as the home of Tolkein and Lewis' Inklings group in the 30's and 40's), picking up a 1946 Penguin edition of Pygmalion for the princely sum of £1.99 in Oxfam books, an amazing meal and pint at the vegetarian pub, the Gardner's Arms, and a fantastic tour around the city and colleges by Chris, tour guide par excellence.

Friday saw us travel down to Camber Sands near Rye for BangFace Weekender 2009. The event last year was for me a celebration of leaving work, and starting on a new phase of my life. This year saw a much larger group of friends attend, from the UK Netherlands and here, and while the music lineup wasn't as big a draw for me the luxury of 72 hours with good mates more than compensated. Noisia were the eyeopener for me that Modeselektor were last year, as in I had heard some of their stuff but was blown away by seeing them live. The other outstanding act was DJ Kentaro, possibly the best turntablist I have ever seen, doing amazing things with three decks and using them more like instruments, fiddling around with the pitch blend and reverse to force out individual notes from two records and playing a unique song with those notes. Simply amazing!

Saturday night was interrupted for me by a stupid sinus headache, but other than that the weekend saw me up till well past my bedtime, and normal folks getting up time, with almost zero alcohol consumption. The trick, mes amis, is a big pasta dinner at about 2am - carbohydrates are your friends! Sunday saw a pleasant afternoon spent on the beach wading in the sea and playing frisbee (one might almost be fooled into believing the whole thing to be a healthy experience) topped off by the narcissistic pleasure of cooking for 13 people. We managed to finish the weekend off by sitting everyone around a table to eat a final meal together before heading out for a last little boogie. All in all a good time was had by all.

Monday and Tuesday saw a trip to Brighton, with amazing lunches at Bill's Produce (Monday) and my favourite Veggie restaurant in the UK Terre a Terre (Tuesday), before heading up to London to visit my sister and her fiancee and have even more amazing food at Eat and Two Veg in Marylebone. As a consequence this week I will be mostly starving myself to return once again to my normal svelte and caribou like state.

It was really amazing to get away with the Very Understanding Girlfriend for the second time in three weeks, and escape the economic meltdown, atrocious weather and general doom and gloom that is the signature of an Irish spring.

Pity we seem to have come back to the dawn of a global pandemic though.

Links
Food
The Gardner's Arms, Oxford
Bill's Produce, Brighton
Terre a Terre, Brighton
Eat and Two Veg, London
Music
Noisia
DJ Kentaro
Pictures
Oxford

Che's Anatomy

Went to an interesting lecture last night at the Science Gallery, where Lawrence Weschler spoke on convergences in art and nature as part of the current INFECTIOUS series.

Drawing heavily on his book "Everything that Rises", the lecture looked at ways in which iconic images echoed previous historic imagery, either intentionally or on a subconscious level, and then also examined the way in which this process is bidirectional, that our understanding of classical images are shaped by our contemporary understanding and biases.

He began with two iconic images, that of Freddy Alborta's photo of Bolivian officers parading Che Guevara's corpse, and compared this with Rembrandt's "The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp":


Weschler was amazed when he first saw the striking similarities in the poses of the observers and display of the body in both images, and began to wonder whether the photographer intentionally framed the photo in homage to Rembrandt, or if on some subconscious level all the participants instinctively stood in such a way, self-framing their actions based on an idealized notion of how one should stand in such a situation.

To me this seemed quite a platonic notion, suggesting that both Rembrandt and the subjects of Alborta's photo were both on some level referring to an idealized image, that there was in fact a perfect way of standing around a corpse and these were both shadow images of it.

Many more examples of art and life imitating art and life can be found at McSweeny's, where Weschler is soliciting submissions and offering his thoughts on such convergences. Unfortunately during the lecture itself, and even in the subsequent Q&A, he did not elaborate in great detail as to his ideas on the origin of such convergences.

I raised the issue of the purpose behind the creation of art; I suggested that an artist instinctively wanted to communicate a message to the audience, and that convergence in art could be accounted for on both a conscious and unconscious level by the artist framing their work in a manner evocative of an earlier work known on some level to the audience. This familiarity would thus create a fertile ground in the minds of the audience for the message of the artist. I was interested to hear his thoughts on whether this process was intentional on the part of the artist, or if in fact it was the work of the idea itself.

Susan Blackmore's work on developing Richard Dawkin's concept of the Meme as a self-replicating concept, idea or cultural aspect has always held a strong fascination for me, and given the inclusion of this lecture as part of the INFECTIOUS series, charting the spread of ideas as pathogens, I would have liked to have more of an opportunity to hear Weschler's thoughts on memetics in general. Are convergent themes in art a way for the ideas central to that art to spread themselves more easily through the minds of the audience? How complex is the artistic meme, ie is the meme that attempts to self-replicate through numerous crucifixion images one of suffering, redemption, hope and human frailty and the other ideas and concepts associated with the Jesus myth, or is the meme simply that of an image of a body on a cross with no further substance that got lucky because its one that the audience accepts rapidly?

With this last notion I am being influenced in part by Peter Watts' book "Maelstrom", wherein what appears at first to be a strong Artificial Intelligence operating on the net turns out to be a group of viruses working in concert to mimic the actions of an intelligence, as by doing so allows them to spread further. Consider the programs written to pass a Turing test, you are more likely to engage in a chat with that program than with something that is obviously a badly spelled spam email about Canadian medication, and for a longer period, because you think it is person on the other end of the IM. Watt's virus learns to mimic electronic conversation in a similar way to a Turing program, all for the purpose of spreading to more systems and replicating further, but it is not in and of itself self-aware.

In this way I wondered about the artistic meme, is it a meme of deep ideas, or is it a meme that has evolved to mimic deep ideas, learning that it will be able to replicate more easily by doing so?

All in all an interesting lecture, raising many ideas to be digested at length.

Or perhaps it was just a meme that had learned to mimic an interesting lecture.

Only time will tell.

All these things that I've done

Back in Dublin after an amazing few days in Helsinki, catching up with fantastic friends and our amazing godson. He's now almost two and really starting to talk, but of course its all in Finnish, so I have no real idea what are real words and what are just Finnish-sounding gibberish. Also, as my Finnish is non-existent, I spoke in English pretty constantly to him just to confuse him all the more, just as he's starting to get the hang of this talking thing.

"What's that you say? This thing is called "cheese"? But yesterday you told me it was "leipäjuusto", make up your mind you stupid moose".

Yes, the internal monologue of all babies sounds like Stewie Griffin, even in Finnish.

It was thus while basking in the afterglow of a week of sumptuous Suomi hospitality that I completely failed to notice an important anniversary creep up and then defiantly pass me by, for Thursday was in fact the one year anniversary of my graceful transition to the world of underemployment.

There were those who said I would crack under the lack of strain and constant stress, overdose on the luxuriant freedom afforded to me by an almost complete lack of obligations and responsibilities, and loose touch with the common man who remains oppressed under the unrelenting yoke of the global corporate machine. To all these naysayers, doom-mongers and more, I say 'Feh! A pox on your doubting houses!"

And what exactly do I have to show for these last twelve months? A lot of international travel, apparently:

April 2008 - London & BangFace festival, Camber, England
May 2008 - San Marco di Castellabate, Italy
June 2008 - Pezinok & Bratislava, Slovakia
July 2008 - Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
August 2008 - Mexico City & San Cristobal Des Las Casas, Mexico; Caye Caulker, Belize; San Francisco, CA & Burning Man, Black Rock City Nevada
September 2008 - Donner Pass State Park & San Francisco, CA
January 2009 - Belfast; Washington DC, New York, New Haven, CT
March 2009 - Belfast; Brno, Czech Republic
April 2009 - Pezinok & Bratislava, Slovakia; Vienna, Austria; Tampere & Helsinki, Finland

Looks like I need to get measured up for a new Carbon Footprint.

When I left work I had put together a monthly budget that would allow me to take a minimum of 18 months off, and surprisingly in spite of the ridiculous amount of travel I actually came in pretty much exactly on budget. This says to me that if I cut back even just a little on unnecessary perambulations I should be able to stretch out this happy period of underemployment just a bit longer and possibly sleep through the recession.

But beyond the travel and the hiding under the bed-covers from the reality of the global depression, what else do I have to show for the last twelve months? About half a stone less in weight and a blood pressure down to a very respectable 128/72.

This, beyond the new experiences and reconnections with old friends, beyond the time spent with family or exploring new avenues of creativity, beyond the opportunity to be a part of history on a global stage and to be part of the life of an individual child, I would say that the restoration of my health and well-being has been the most significant accomplishment of the last twelve months.

Actually it is not beyond these experiences, rather it is because of them that I have rediscovered myself.

Every event in the last twelve months has been a key that unlocked another part of the real Me, the Me once buried deep that had sacrificed too much of my sense of self for external goals that now seem difficult to even fathom.

To everyone that has been a part of this voyage of rediscovery, thank you!

The Great Moomin Hunt

This week I am mostly in Finland. Continuing down the road to amassing the largest carbon footprint held by a member of the perennially underemployed, the Unkie Dave Experience has set up camp in Helsinki for the Easter Weekend and beyond, with no ulterior motives or hidden agendas beyond spending some time with a few good friends*.

Activities to date have included successfully locating a vegan restaurant in Tampere (The Manchester of Finland), eating copious amounts of bread cheese (leipäjuusto), avoiding any overtures towards public nudity, and wandering through snow-covered forests and frozen lakes in search of the tasty Finnish delicacy known in English as Moomin (mmmmnn, tastes like chicken).

While internet access is excellent and I have much to write about, I am enjoying myself too much to actually take the time and post anything of worth. Normal service will be resumed shortly, consider this to be a welcome respite from narky budget/economy related comments.

Pidä tyyli!

* Although I am half-tempted to try and track down The Thugs In Charge who sold Jaiku to Google, and subsequently let them "Dodegeball" it. Twitter is a very poor substitute indeed.

Everybody needs a 303

Somewhat inspired by An Snag Breac and the ever Fabulous Felix, both of whom have a propensity for creating knitted and felt simulacra of everyday objects such as fruit, vegetables, internal organs and vertebrae, I present to you my own recent homage to the classic Roland TB-303.

Now, of course, being a 36-year old male I did not actually make this full-scale plush groovebox myself, oh no. It was made by the good burghers at Softmachines in Berlin and arrived this morning to brighten up a rather grey and overcast Dublin morning*. While some may argue that purchasing a plush synthesizer is not true creativity, I say that if the good Lord wished us to make things for ourselves He wouldn't have given us Capitalism**.

(Enjoy this sort of post while you still can, my friends, for no doubt it will be the last impulse purchase for a good while as I have heard rumours of an imminent "Unkie Dave Tax" as part of tomorrow's emergency budget measures. I'm not sure what form this will take, but it doesn't bode well for lovers of unnecessary things)

* For once DHL actually found my doorbell. Maybe they have been reading my blog after all.

** Or so I am reliably informed by the fair and balanced journalists of Fox News.

Concerning the Fruits of my Labour

Ah, the silent wind that blows naught but tumbleweeds across the digital landscape that is my blog.

Yes, it has been more than a few days since last I posted, but unlike other periods of self-imposed exile from the tubes this occasion results from more than the usual pitiful attempts at excuses ranging from the classic 'My dog ate my keyboard" to the topical "I didn't want Brian Cowen sending the police to arrest me for gross indecency", all of which mask the rather more truthful "I've just been too lazy".

No, my friends, my recent sojourn is the result of yet another voyage into lands unknown, as part of the occasional series that my internal monologue has come to refer to as "Unkie Dave Investigates".

Over the course of three months between late 2007 and early 2008 I passed through the airport in Wroclaw, Poland, at least ten times. On each occasion I was struck by the tearful scenes of families saying goodbye to loved ones, leaving home in search of work in unfamiliar lands, not knowing when they would be able to return. As it happens, and thanks to the careful mismanagement of our economy by successive Fianna Fail governments, their time in Ireland proved not to be as long and open ended as they originally feared, and today up to 1,500 Polish workers a week are fleeing the decaying corpse of the Celtic Tiger and returning home with little to show for their effort beyond an addiction to Tayto crisps and a healthy distrust of the Irish employer. Given the level of exploitation and racism Polish workers experienced here it is no wonder that "No Irish" signs are cropping up on Polish building sites.

With unemployment each month setting new records and the prospect of the recession metamorphing into a depression the likes of which we have not seen for twenty years, it occurred to me that in the very near future we will no doubt see a reversal of the Wroclaw experience, and Irish ports, airports and bus terminals will once again bear witness to the sight of a generation of Irish men and women leaving our shores for Sassanach lands in search of gainful employment and an escape from poverty.

In preparation for the upheavals next Tuesday's "I can't believe its our third attempt to fix things in six months" supplementary budget will cause in the fabric of our society I decided to get out and about and find out more about life as an economic migrant myself.

Yes, my friends, I have spent this last week in the Czech Republic working in a smoothie kiosk in a shopping centre.

I'll just let that statement settle in for a minute.

Working in an industry I know nothing about, with minimal training, zero grasp of the native language, no understanding of my basic rights as an employee and, as it turns out, no actual monetary compensation for my labour, I quickly started to grasp what generations of my forebears learned on the railroads of the US and the building sites of London and Manchester.

Alcohol is the solution to all of your woes.

Okay, maybe I need to throw in a slight disclaimer here. A good friend of mine recently set up a juice and smoothie business in the Czech Republic, and he invited me over for a few days to catch up and have a bit of a break. As he himself works behind the bar, he gave me the opportunity to don an apron and shirt and spend a couple of days doing some honest hard work (for a change). The rest of the staff were very patient, great trainers, and I appear not to have poisoned any of the customers, in fact some even went as far as to tip me for services rendered*.

It has been many, many years since I worked in any capacity where I was able to instantly see the results of my labour. Working for large corporations, and indeed any managerial role, removes you further and further from the fruits of your toil, until one day you can no longer think of your work in any but the most abstract of fashions. For four years I managed a group of managers who managed another group of managers who managed teams that contained people who did various things with computers that allowed other people to put advertisements on their websites that attempted to influence people into visiting other websites in the hope that a certain percentage of those visitors might purchase goods or services from those sites and ultimately result in those advertisers being charged for their ads and my company taking a small percentage of that revenue.

Sounds pretty fulfilling, doesn't it?

There was something so visceral, so rewarding about the simple act of making a smoothie. Here was an actual item that someone wanted to purchase. As I put together all the ingredients, I knew exactly how much each component cost, and what relation the final price of the product had to the total cost of labour, equipment, rent etc. I knew how many juices had to be sold each day to be in profit, and thus knew exactly how each hour's work that I did contributed directly to the success of the business. I juiced and I smoothied, took out the bins and polished the counters, traveled to the wholesalers and cold storage and then juiced some more, and at the end of the day I went home tired but satisfied. Work was no longer abstract and nebulous, it was definable and tangible. I was no longer alienated from my labour**.

My friend and I had quite a few conversations about the striking difference between the Work:Reward ratio of our last jobs and that of his current smoothie business. I even suggested that there was a business opportunity there in bringing groups of jaded executives and putting them behind a juice bar for a week. A bit of real work, with real customers and tangible results would certainly serve as a healthy reality check***.

Now of course I am idealizing and romanticizing the role of the labourer here, as have many a long list of leftie philosophers and social malcontents, but for me it seemed close to Andre Gorz's ideal of a post-wage-based society of educated part-time workers engaged in multi-activity; Almost all of my co-workers were full-time post-graduate students, juicing part-time to pay for rent, food and books. We had discussions on Cambodian rural poverty, political censorship and journalism in Cuba, Mayan architecture and competition in the Czech travel industry, all of which were conducted through English (for none of them a native language). Essentially my co-workers were working to support their other interests, work in and of itself was not their end goal. By choosing to work part-time (only one worker, the supervisor, was full-time, none of the other employees were interested in full-time work) more workers could be employed, thus what could have been an unfulfilling 40 hours work for one worker became 10 hours work for four workers, enough to support each of them to the level they wanted and allow them to concentrate on other pursuits.

The rewards of multi-activity, where workers toil for less hours at a greater salary (perhaps coupled with a government-provided supplemental income funded by a luxury tax), and thus have more time to spend on education and research, creative pastimes or social and community activities, are obvious. All it would take to happen is for a society to agree that it is no longer acceptable for the richest 1% to have such a disproportionate amount of the total wealth in that society, and that wealth should be spread more equitably.

This doesn't necessitate revolution, just higher taxation on earnings judged to be grossly above societal norms. Labour have called for a third tax bracket of 48% on income over €100K, an idea that is gaining traction, and will certainly gather more steam if the Government's emergency budget on Tuesday is seen to be disproportionate in its measures. Given their track record of the Income Levy, the State Pension Levy, and the lack of any change in the corporate tax in their last two attempts it seems likely that yet again the poorest in society will pay the most. Redistribution of wealth no longer seems a fanciful political notion when the majority of the electorate have lost their own wealth.

As "Eureka!" moments go, it might not compare well to Newton's apple tree, or Luther's "Tower Experience" (which actually happened on the toilet), but the last few days spent in a small kiosk in a shopping centre on the outskirts of Brno have set off a horde of lightbulbs in my head.

Oh, and the juice was pretty tasty too.

* Alas, as I was not being paid a single cent for this work and looked forward to my share of the tips as a hard-earned reward, somehow we never seemed to get round to the divvying up of the tip-jar, no matter how often I raised the subject.

** Or at least I would have been if I had been paid.

*** Much in the same way as this recession should serve as a healthy slap across the back of the head for today's narcissistic, shiftless youth. Get a haircut, you damn punks.

Links
Pictures from Brno, non-smoothie related