My philosiphy: “It is my belief that today’s media (Movies, T.V., Music, Video Games, Etc) does NOT ‘reflect’ the culture as some may believe, but it ‘creates’ the culture as it is.  As Christians, it is our duty to counter that culture through faith-based media.”

My mission: “I am an aspiring filmmaker who, along with the help from my church, is seeking to step out in faith and begin to start a Video Ministry, that would produce projects designed to help spread the Gospel through video media.” 

The world is filled with media that would seek to destroy the Christian faith.  It seems that Christians would be the only religious group that is shunned and mocked worldwide.  Abortion and sexual immorality are portrayed is such a way as to sway the viewer into thinking these kind of things are normal and should be accepted.  Where is the truth to come from?  How can we as Christians, show the absolute truth, that we know for certain?  Can we counter the current culture, and turn the tide of moral decay?  I don’t think we can sway the entire world to our worldview, but I think we can reach some.

My ambition for this blog is to highlight media entertainment that would be faith and family friendly, to speak out about what I understand of the Christian faith, bring news of any thing I would produce through my future production company, and whatever else would help people counter the culture.  I will attempt to put up a website to go along with this blog, and have more information on future activities as well.

Comments and suggestions are welcome.

Varlen McIlvanie

I jest ever so slightly, but what makes us act in such a way in acting in such a way to buy the must-have item, which much of the time, we spend on money we don’t have, for something that we ultimately, don’t need? Were those Beats headphones and flat screen TV really necessary?

According to the BBC, thousands of people gathered from shortly after midnight at major shopping centres around the country, such as Westfield in London, Bluewater in Kent and Birmingham’s Bullring, where Debenhams, Selfridges and Next were offering discounts of up to 50%.

James Murray, from Experian, said: “Christmas 2012 is on track to be another record-breaker for online retail, outstripping 2011 on all fronts.

“The current market trends suggest that in the UK, Boxing Day will be the biggest day for online retail, with an estimated 126 million visits to online retail outlets and a massive 17 million hours spent online shopping on this day alone.”

Our greedy and gluttonous selves aren’t content with the food we’ve eaten or how much red wine we’ve consumed on Christmas Day; now we need to shop to work off the excess bulge from our waistlines and our wallets.

Materialism is a lot like chasing a horse you can never catch – the latest must-have will always be ahead with what we’re supposedly content with. Now that there’s an iPhone 5, dump that iPhone 4 like a pretty girlfriend leaves a guy punching well above his weight. And so it goes.

Spending in an almost wreckless manner considering the costs of Christmas has a direct effect on the debt we place on ourselves through credit cards and bank/third party loans. Many people unfortunately aren’t responsible enough to be reminded that creditors come knocking and want paying.  The concept of money being an IOU or debt is one that many are oblivious to. A concept of which that if there were no debt, there wouldn’t be a single paper note in existence.

Add the interest payments on top with every day costs on top of that and it becomes insurmountable for many families. At a time of economic hardship, with further cuts and austerity measures set to be made by the incumbent government, it’s going to get worse. A whole lot worse.  If people are going to buy goods, they can at least invest in some gold or silver bullion, something of real worth, that will only rise in wealth and not depreciate, unlike fiat currencies.

The UK is in a particularly bad spot because it is on the brink of economic collapse. You read that correctly. Why? It’s not because of something that has happened overnight. Briefly, it’s because of the debt we and the government via the banks have placed on ourselves, with a currency backed by thin air.

Though the United Kingdom has no exclusivity of this dubious honour, with a GDP 950% debt. Add to that the sale of gold to Germany and the bailout of AIG from former PM Gordon Brown in 1999 at rock-bottom prices, inflation set to become hyperinflation and a bond market bubble at a 300-year high that’s about to burst and it doesn’t bode well.  You think we’re in an economic crisis now? The 2008 credit crunch was just a warm up for what is coming in the not too distant future. Just you wait until hyperinflation kicks in on the price of food, the price of a gallon of petrol hits double figures and there are riots in the streets calling for the heads of banksters, but by then it’ll all be too late.

The BBC, Sky News and other media stooges will paint a different picture and say that everything is fine and that there’s growth forecast for Q1 in 2013. But it’s all a distraction, a red herring telling you that everything is fine. And it’s apathy; complacency, complicity and laziness that will inevitably make us pay. In the words of Ayn Rand, ‘You can ignore reality, but you cannot ignore the consequences of ignoring reality’.

One other thing that the media won’t tell you is that there was an estimated 70,000 families below the poverty line who couldn’t afford Christmas this year and we don’t contemplate how lucky and fortunate that people are able to enjoy the festivities. And that’s mainly due to a lack of spirituality in societal communities and as individuals. There’s no sense of spirituality, whether it be mentally, physically, psychologically or through religious practice. Explain how people are happy to pitch a tent at the front of the doors of stores in Oxford Street, but don’t even know their next-door neighbour’s first name, let alone know what they look like.

And that’s something no amount of money can buy: the collective will of compassion and love we can show one another. You might feel content with your new Macbook, but there comes a time in your life where no amount of money spent can feel or fill that emptiness in one’s soul.

People instead could perhaps be creative: write a short story, learn a new skill, take up a new sport or a new activity. Start a new blog, take up a short course. Whatever you want. You are in charge of your life. You don’t owe corporations or department stores a damn thing. If anything they owe YOU for your time and constant barrage of discounts and 0% finance on credit and store cards.

Then again, advertisers are good at their sole job – selling something at you as though you’re herds flocking to the sales and making you ignorant at the same time.

Here’s Mark McGowan aka the Artist Taxi Driver hitting the nail on the head with his thoughts on Boxing Day sales madness:

Snoopy Bag of gifts. Seen better days.

I remember the first Eid gifts I received when I was eight. It was the one thing I’d wanted so bad – a Casio watch! They were in a Snoopy and Peanuts goodie bag that me and my younger brother received when we were little. Inside, our mum was creative – there’d be an assortment of sweets, little treats, maybe even a watch, a football or a card with some money inside with a few packets of Hubba Bubba Bubble Gum. To do this day, those bags are still in my mum’s wardrobe peering out of the wardrobe, laid to sit on a shelf unwanted and hanging off. It is fair to say that the bag has seen better days with its condition.

But it’s because it was in my vision that has in some way inspired me to take to the laptop and write/type this up on a day like Eid. Eid ul-Fitr, which commemorates the end of the Islamic month of Ramadan, where believers are made to fast for thirty days, before a festival of the feast, which is literally what Eid ul-Fitr is translated from Arabic. A time when families come together and eat to their hearts content with eyes bigger than their stomachs from all the fasting has brought on: shrunken bellies and even more shrunken appetites.

It wouldn’t be Eid without it.

Though I’m not sure the same can be said for the bulging wallet of cash and credit cards to buy gifts and luxury items for the big day itself. Why? Because I’ve noticed on how, much like Christmas having given way to being geared around gifts and materialism, Eid has gone down a very similar route. In the Middle East, TV adverts screen of must buys and have-not-wants right the way through Ramadan that would make Christmas campaigns here in the West look and feel like a Mazuma.com ad on 4Music.

It’s also clear that at whatever time of year, there’ll be many Arabs that come to visit London with more brass than sense spend, spend and spend some more whilst paying at a premium for their rented townhouse overlooking Hyde Park, complete with a nanny whilst their father is rarely seen due to business. OK, so it’s a nuance and am taking a swipe at a race which I am a part of. But in saying that, how far off am I from suggesting that the very soul of a religious festival that is holy and sacred for over a billion people worldwide is being ripped out?

And it isn’t just limited to religious festivals either – look at the city of Mecca. Hotels that charge $50,000 a night and big multi-nationals have made way via the bulldozing of mountains and ancient sites, just to add a few zeros. How much is enough? Never is never enough. And tragically of all, not even a symbol of righteousness and peace for Mankind is part of the bigger picture in a material world.

A multi-billion dollar industry has been built around the idea of improvement – improving our personalities, improving our appearance, improving our love lives, improving our careers, etc etc. You name it, you can improve it. Everything from self-help books, to pills, to miracle mystic healers – our society is founded on the notion that there is something about each one of us that must be fixed or improved upon.

As I walk through my local book store I can’t help but notice the plethora of books asking: “are you suffering from anxiety? Could you lose 10 pounds? Do you feel stressed and worried about the future?” And I think to myself, well as a matter of fact, yes. But do we wonder whether our worry is symptomatic of a much bigger issue like the constant pressure to reach some undefined state of perfection? Probably not. We are told we have a problem, and we are told we can fix it quickly with a few short steps, a seven day diet, or a visit to the pharmacy.

I am certainly one who has tried many magic fixes. From the books, to the pills, to the Shaman healer – that is the society in which I have been brought up. But I came to a realization a few years ago, and it is quite a simple one: there is nothing to be fixed and there is nothing to be improved upon. Once we accept ourselves for exactly who we are, and exactly where we are in life, all the change and improvement we have been looking for in a quick fix happens naturally. We can’t buy the fix, we already are the fix. We are the fix when we are completely ourselves, when we are completely authentic, and when we accept that we are already perfect, in our imperfection. Surrender is the most powerful medicine of all.

I will leave you with a quote and some questions:

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.”

What would it mean or look like for you to be completely authentic? How would it feel? What would happen if you just stopped trying to be perfect?

You might be asking yourself, what is the purpose of this blog and why is it any different? Well, it’s not any different, but I have started this blog as both a means to express my own insights and perspectives as well as to create a forum on topics and themes that relate to travel, culture, self-reflection, spirituality, and alternative living. Every week will have a theme where I will post a question or topic along with photographs that relate to that theme. My hope is that these posts will be of relevance to others – please comment on these posts and share your own perspectives and experiences. If there is a theme or topic you have considered that you would like to be discussed, please share. I look forward to the journey.

Happy seeking comrades!

History as people will tell you, tends to be written by the winners. The winners of battles on the military field, politically and of statistics by proxy. Britain in days of yore had their empirical battles of colonialism and imperialism that led to them dominant, in thrall to no-one of their standing on the world stage for a few hundred years.

It appeared that it might not be so much a United Kingdom as much as a United Empire. They won where it mattered. Therefore their influence and legacy of dividing and conquering lives on, though they don’t like to talk about it. After all, blood and gore for King/Queen and country is just so disdainful. It’s the way the British brought morality, sports, minding your P’s and Q’s and keeping your elbows off the dinner table that puts a nice spin that sticks. And how do we thank them? By way of a Commonwealth Games. Surely that’s one of the biggest piss takes in the history of mankind. Just to show that there’s no hard feelings for all the land grabs and looting of wealth.

Of course all empires have their downfall as Britain found out. All that she is left with these days is Gibraltar and the Falkland Islands amongst other small isles here and there. The latter of which is fair to say, hanging by a thread. The damage may have been done a long time ago, but the legacy still lives on to this very day. Let’s be honest: we’re in the Falklands why? Oh, the fact that there’s plenty of oil there. But the official line is that these are strategic interests Britain has. Even if it’s far closer in proximity to Argentina than Land’s End.

Deep in the heart of suburbia there’s always strange tales of goings-on behind closed doors of bored housewives and the like.  I don’t read them, but they’re glaring in my face when I go to the newsagents with women’s magazines on the second shelf like Woman’s Own and Take A Break with their stories so ridiculous that they can’t even be made up. It HAS to be true.  It’s the absolute truth.

Clintons, the card merchants have announced in the last few days that they have been put into receivership with store closures seemingly imminent. Hardly surprising when you have competitors like Moonpig.com and FunkyPigeon.com to deal with and not just because of their catchy but bloody annoying jingles. But when dealing with the wider Internet at large, that’s when you’re absolutely up a dirty creek without a paddle.

Of course the recession and austerity measures have meant that the high street has taken a battering in terms of store closures and what has subsequently taken its place of what has been left behind.  Near where I live In West Ealing, which is a town in West London that has been in dire need for the progress in development in business enterprise for instance, there was once a Woolworths, Marks & Spencer, McDonalds, Adams, Mothercare and WH Smith. In its place are now a Poundland, Wilkinson’s, cash for electrical goods store, an estate agent and an Iceland. An Iceland taking the place of WH Smith. I’ll let that sink in for a moment. Can you imagine Kerry Katona advertising books and stationery in your wildest dreams?

People quite obviously have less disposable income as belts and budgets tighten. Inevitably families will weigh up whether the new phone that’s not really being used and is in good enough condition to sell on. Then there’s jewellery, where an old piece of gold is pawned to pay off some bills, and returned back when paid off, on top of a rate of interest and a fee at the pawners discretion.

Personally, I had always felt some indifference when I was younger in thinking that these big stores were too big to fail somehow. Too established but for the most part recession proof with loadsamoney.  But if the Roman Empire could fall after 500 years and if Simon Cowell can keep secretly running the country and controlling the population with flu jabs, then anything’s possible. For the record, I’m aware that’s libellous. SO SUE ME.

So as the streets are paved with discount stores and pawnshops, it’s a bubble that is inflating still further. All bubbles burst though and it will be very interesting to see what takes its place.

In my mind, this almost feels inevitable. For so long, I had made my feelings pretty clear on what I think of the state of programming over the last decade. To say that the television executives have been scraping the barrel for ideas is quite the understatement. That well ran dry a long time ago. BBC Three and ITV2 demonstrate that there’s no low, no depth that won’t be plummeted, or z-listers with no class that they won’t attempt to reign in the toughest of demographics: teens. Those with attention spans equating to the same amount of seconds as the IQ of the collective cast of Hollyoaks.

But with the amount of channels that are now available via Freeview, it might seem a paradox to ask this, but is there much choice? I guarantee that at some point today, when you’re sat down after a long day from work, you’ll be channel hopping. Flicking through station after station of repeats, tawdry game shows from the 90′s and Top Gear. On average, per week I would watch around 4-5 hours watching tv. And I was pretty select: The Simpsons, Channel 4 News, Newsnight and Question Time. Off the top of my head that’s what I remember anyway from last week. There’s a terrible irony in the Simpsons being my favourite show, with Homer Simpson so dependent on his beloved box. Fortunately, Russia Today and Al Jazeera ply me with news that don’t have a slant on interests pertaining to Western government agendas.

In 1997, Brass Eye on Channel 4 had a very short spoofed skit of a multiple choice ‘snog, marry or avoid’ situation. Off the top of my head I can’t quite remember what the title exactly was but it’s almost heralded where we’re at in 2012. But it’s an indictment of where we are as a nation – we’re the guilty party in as much as being responsible for viewing figures the way they are for TOWIE for instance. Or Jersey Shore. Or Geordie Shore. Or Teen Mom. Or the Jeremy Kyle Show.

And don’t get me kicking off on Saturday night television. If I have to watch one more street dance group on Britain’s Got Talent or have to hear them talk on how they’re something refreshing or in any way ‘different’, I might just kick them mid-air while one of them does a somersault. Then again, maybe I won’t need to now I’ve killed my television. Staying on the subject, ratings are all important, but does there seem to be any adequate alternatives? Most people I know that do watch the X Factor or BGT watch it for the sheer spectacle of zooming close ups, hype and heightened melodrama that it entails, rather than the actual conveyor belt of ‘talent’. It was a lot to take. I felt so exposed to something that didn’t really feel altogether real. But what is exactly when it comes to TV? It’s escapism from the drudgery of 9-5′s, paying bills and signal failures on the tube making us 20 minutes late for work at least twice a week.

It’s all in the name – television programming. Let me repeat that again. tele-vision-programming. You’re being programmed to view something in an attempt to be made to think and act a certain way. A propagandist tool being used against the masses. And they would appear to be winning against the people’s collective will. Not that I want to blow the fanfare of socialism. This is a populist blog after all. The American comedian Eddie Griffin has a routine that gives the young people in the audience a challenge of not watching the idiot box for a week and see how they fare. He feigns a junkie going cold turkey in dire need of his next fix, no matter what channel it was tuned into. It alters and shapes moods, feelings and generally just makes you feel like crap. Especially with those patronising Cheryl Cole L’Oreal adverts telling me I’m worth it. The late Bill Hicks was so on point: if you work in advertising in marketing, kill yourselves.

The digital switch-over after ages of reminders and that animated little robot with his powers of persuasion failed to turn me over to the dark side. Even if BBC Four is available to me. Even though I was a light user so to speak of the telly box, watching adverts midway through shows almost had me in a convulsive rage with iPad and Google ads using twee cover songs by female singer-songwriters and a chronology of watching a kid growing up through passing years to market their goods. If they won’t pull the plug on that, then I will. And I’ve never felt in a better mood. Where there was once a box not so long ago, are now books, records and my phone being charged.

And another thing being a light user: I barely had time for the TV. With me working, writing, reading, exercising at the gym, yoga, spinning, swimming, playing football and just living a life, It’s not like I’ll be missing it any time soon. Unless I want to watch the Simpsons. Still, there’s the living room for that I guess.

If you’re about to form a band, or if you’re in a band already, you might want to listen up. Yeah, you with the Top Shop/American Apparel skinny fit v-necked outfit you pathetic excuse for a musician. Look, I can even distract you as easily as this, watch: FREE BEER! See? Now listen, and listen well, cos its for your own good.  

So a group of your mates you’ve either known for years in, I dunno, somewhere regional like Woking, Wakefield, Rochdale, maybe even Hull, or perhaps advertised for new band members in your latest issue of NME describing your influences as diverse as ‘Blur, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana and Kasabian.’ So after a few auditions and deciding on a band name of say, The Existentials, just because you’ve been reading L’Etranger and that you think the philosophical scribings of individual freedom and absurdity will make you really appeal to getting in between girls legs and that you’re soooo unique and totally different from everyone out there in the music scene. Well here’s to piss on your four man band parade – it’s about as original a concept as corn flakes. It’s been done over and over for the last several decades now and the general public aren’t that feeble.

…OR ARE THEY. OR ARE THEY??

See, half the time, the man on the street couldn’t be trusted with a pair of rubber scissors. What confirms this is how they’re controlled by those up above. No not that high. Bit lower, lower still, that’s more like it. It’s the bigwigs and egotists aged 45 and above at the four major labels who decide and figure what will sell. But hey, you don’t care at this point right? As long as you’re famous and you’re one day on the cover of Screamwaves Musical Express and are knee deep in muff, it’ll all pass..and what’s more.. FREE BEER! Incidentally, the other half of the time the man spends to himself is at pains with his own existence on how he’s wasted his life away on a meaningless relationship, dead end job and how everyday is fucking GROUNDHOG DAY!!!!

After a few songs written that don’t sound too dissimilar to what sounds like everything else out there on daytime radio A lists, you decide to upload them onto MySpace with a flashy flashy background and listing your influences as Bukowski, Vonnegut, Satre and of course Albert Camus, you pretentious twat. Facebook pals also come into the equation with your own group, which will provide a direct link to oh, I dunno, Facebook. After many hours, days and weeks adding friends of whom you might think give two monkeys about your original sound, a busybody at a management level, or someone who’s a young budding chancer decides that you’re the best thing he’s heard in the last twenty minutes and comes along to a gig you’ve booked on the back of your own efforts.

You play your first show in London with an attendance of approximately 12 people in the room, with three times that amount of people inebriated in the bar area next door despite it being a Tuesday night, compromising of those you invited down to be on your guestlist, that you worked so tirelessly with the promoter of the night that they were let in for free, and not on concessions for them to catch a couple of tracks and to decide that ‘it didn’t blow them away’.

Alternatively, you might get lucky and an A&R actually gets around to doing what they’re paid to and likes you so much that he makes an offer of a record deal. That is of course, your manager and lawyer that you’ve assigned and tacitly agreed to work for you pro bono until you get signed. If you’re hot shit, they’ll attempt to tie you down on a two-album-with-option-of-a-third deal for a low royalty rate and a signing on fee advance of anything between 5k to 500k and so far beyond, the figure would make your head spin off your torso.

You agree on the high advance just because the thought of all that money at your disposal for a brief moment makes you think you’ve finally made it. But little do those naïve Existentials know that this is where the real hard work begins..

Deciding that you need to move to where its really at, the lot of you move down to a disused warehouse space that used to be an abattoir in the part of Hackney that’s so rough, it makes the prospect of being in Wormwood Scrubs a lot more cosier. It costs piss all, but hey, as long as the label have got you covered right? Not to mention all that FREE BEER!

So – time to make that ground breaking début album that’s going to be bigger than Oasis. Or at least that’s what the label have been lying to the press about before they’ve even heard a note.

Now, what is unbeknownst to the band are a couple of fundamentals – first that advance is an investment, which has to be paid back via record sales. There’s also the breakdown in costs, where everyone representing you gets a piece of the pie.

Let’s just see how much that money is broken down from a £250,000 investment…

Manager’s cut – 15-20%
Legal fees (because after all, lawyers are what they are and they negotiated the contract you signed in their blood soaked ink) 10%
Studio hire – 25%
Top notch producer (plus royalty points/percentage from the record sales) – 25%
Mastering – 5%
Album cover artwork – 5%

That leaves you with the princely sum of..well, you really don’t want to know. Oh you do? Well it’s about £3000. That’s not even minimum wage. That’s gangrape-in-a-back-alley-blindfolded-while-being-spitroasted-and-thrown-away-once-they’re-done-with-you money. But since this is their vision, that leaves the remnants of the money available. Pending that is. That’s not to mention New Equipment, Tour manager, roadies, tour expenses like hotels, a tour van, food, fuel, t-shirts, posters..Even album packaging, photoshoots..you get the idea.

Under all that overwhelming pressure, with the band owing thousands being deep in the red often before a song is heard on the radio, the music press are hailing you the next big thing. Lamacq, Lowe and the cavalry are playing you over and over. For a short while at least, you’re the untouchables. That is, until the record comes out and guess what? Because its taken so long to release the record, you’re not fashionable any more. Your time has been and gone, and so has their patience. Oh, there’ll be little bits and pieces written here and there, but you’d want more for your 250k investment.

And after months of the label trying everything they can to make them seem appealing, they write off the money and drop you. You owe the company thousands and the Existentials are never heard from again, unless one of them happens to be on an identity parade on Never Mind the Buzzcocks.

AND THAT’S HOW YOU GET CHEWED UP AND GET SPAT OUT! ALL THAT YOU EARN IS LESS THAN SOMEONE AT A VIDEO RENTAL STORE AND YOU’VE NO PROSPECTS TO COME OF WHAT HAS JUST HAPPENED. IF ANYTHING, YOU’VE BEEN CHEWED UP AND SPAT OUT. AND THAT’S HOW THE MUSIC BUSINESS WORKS!!

There’s an episode of the Simpsons where Lisa wins a trip to Washington in an essay contest of how great America is. She is later dismayed after witnessing a bribery scandal and later pictures a scene in her head of pigs gathered around a trough filled with dollars and Uncle Sam holding a bucket aloft refilling it with more and more money. I don’t blame you for a sense of deja vu. After all, truth really is stranger than fiction, none more so than in the world of American politics. With the “truth” as an adjective being used very loosely.

But the race to become the prime candidate in the GOP for the chance to go toe-to-toe with Barack Obama is really heating up at present with Mitt Romney having his nose in front going through courses and distances to cross the line. The republican party has always had a ‘what you see is what you get’ stance and at least you can pretty much know what to expect : A lot of Evangelical rhetoric, flag waving, unwavering support of Israel above America in many ways, flagrant over tax breaks for the rich and letting the rest foot the bill.

Then there’s Newt Gingrich. A former House of Representatives speaker, bankrolled by casino mogul and multi-billionaire Sheldon Adelson who is a double-standard in himself. He, who himself a while back called the Palestinians an ”invented people”. Islamophobia, preying on people’s imaginations and worst fears are cards he plays with his blinkered view on  his country’s foreign policy. A sidenote must be made of those that dropped of the running early on, who included the risible Sarah Palin and the stuttering Herman Cain. Between all the names mentioned above, that’s enough hot air to fill a large balloon upwards into the clouds.

It might be a little unfair perhaps to label Gingrich as the only candidate who is bankrolled, as they all are via private benefactors, some not so private, others from corporations. All to their benefit. See the thing with money is that it can get you pretty far. What can get you further still is the power to influence. The power to choose to do good or to commit evil. The influence from a staunch Zionist like Adelson to be dictated to with the amount of cash being lined into the pockets of Newt. Hence an asinine comment such as Palestinians being ”invented”.

The same goes for Herman Cain, a man who is an ex-CEO of Godfather’s Pizza and business executive at Burger King who was filmed in a classic, couldn’t be scripted video of him not being able to pronounce Uzbekistan, even more hopeless over what action to take over Libyan intervention. It’s still painful viewing almost a year on. Though nothing new, it’s a common move that people in high-ranking positions of big corporations move into the political arena to manoeuvre their strategic interests and who or where to bomb the guy who sitting on top of an oil well in the Middle East. Dick Cheney is a prime example for one.

But what’s the appeal of their hot air ramblings? The fact that they’re the anti-hero in many ways. That they’re so compelling to watch while they attempt to screw the life out of anyone who doesn’t earn a six-figure salary. And they play that role so much better than those in the UK. Newt Gingrich standing next to Nick Clegg is made to look like the Grinch or Montgomery Burns and Hans Moleman from the Simpsons at times. That’s quite a feat to have the ability to control a population with total autonomy and crush anything that stands in the way is almost straight out of a Marvel comic, with trying to obtain world domination with one territory conquered after another. Because let’s be honest – democracy is an illusion. It doesn’t really exist, not if you don’t have enough green.

But if you are a white collared individual or waiting for daddy’s inheritance to fall back on, or if you’re just one lucky, lucky bastard, then the mire of bullshit is all yours. Even if you don’t know where an ex-Soviet Socialist Republic is on a map.

But this felt different. There was an air of nervousness in his voice after he’d realised that he was in the wrong and I had everyone in their heads tut-tutting staring right at me. Also, I was wearing a traditional Palestinian Kuffieyeh, which is a cotton lightweight scarf, which he’d noticed – that was when things turned really awkward.

I then put two and two together and so did he. He suddenly saw the error of his ways and immediately apologised to me as though he’d forgot to pay me for my goods, rather than the other way around. To really turn the air though, I gave a cold, blank stare, not saying a word and walking off with a face like thunder.

Am I over-reacting here? In this day and age if I’m wearing a backpack on a train and haven’t shaved in a few weeks I’m bound to get a few looks, and to be honest – and this goes against my better judgement – do I blame them for a myopic, superficial first impression?

No. Not really.

Our eyes transmit signals to the brain that provoke instinctive thoughts that trigger first impressions that tick a mental box in our heads. And that’s the trouble with a first impression – you only get one. I also once went through a ticket gate when stopped by a transport policeman with an intimidating attack dog asking to search my near-empty bag, claiming that I had been randomly selected for a search. Oh I’d been randomly searched alright – a randomly searched ethnic.

Bear in mind that this particular incident took place at the height of red alerts of anti-terrorism in the wake of the 7/7 bombings in London. So a double-etched sword had been weilded – but the funniest thing of all was when I was asked where I going by the politely racial policeman? To see my lawyers for the record label I co-ran at the time I replied. Oh, how I love to spin on things the devilish so and so that I am.

Is everyone a little bit racist? Only the very pious and righteous among us would perhaps disagree but I think there’s a tickbox in our heads that corroborates with that – headscarf – check, long beard – check, Arabian style robe – check. Speaking in foreign tongue and not white – check.

Another example of this was in my early twenties working briefly at an airport ticketing desk and taught in training that sometimes stereotypes absolutely hold true with certain nationalities. For instance, the Chinese arrive efficiently at check in with as long a line as their long wall, in contrast Nigerians arrive 15 minutes after the desk opens and Arabs will try and blag the best seats and discounts on tickets by sussing out your nationality. If you’re a fellow Semite, then a haggling bargain ensues to no avail. I also learned to assume everyone is stupid. Another matter entirely but it has stuck with me to this very day – words to live by.

Yes we live in a society with all the colours of the rainbow in terms of skin. Ish. But if you think the issue of race and profiling doesn’t exist, stop, look and think again.

Then there’s Herschel Krustovsky. A Jewish clown that had differences with his Orthodox father, riddled with drug, alcohol amongst other vices and addictions, better known to most of course as Krusty The Klown. A misanthropic, sardonic, manic depressive who lives off past glories. But the direct links with celebrity culture and him are that of many. The selling out for the most part to lend Krusty’s name to a whole host of shoddy products and fads. Food products are almost a given. But there’s far more outlandish and obscure things he’s lent his name to – for instance there’s a home pregnancy test – which may cause birth defects – Krusty Brand low income housing, and most amusingly of all (and there’s a long list) a Krusty brand Geiger Counter to measure radioactivity. The fact that I’m writing this up has left me nonplussed but there’s a lot to be said for shameless endorsements by a fictional character and commercialism.

After all, Krusty steps into a line of celebs and sports stars who hereby endorse a particular event or product all in the name of free capitalist enterprise. Until he did the dirty, Tiger Woods racked up sponsorship deals into the hundreds of millions. David Beckham’s doing alright for himself with Adidas, Gillette, his own fragrance, you get the general idea. Success leads to a public image which in turn ends up turning into filthy lucre. At the time of writing, Nicki Minaj has just signed a new lucrative deal with Pepsi going into the x amount of millions.

But what Matt Groening and co. execute excellently here is a multi-faceted, 360 view of an onscreen character whom onstage performing to children is an idol of Bart Simpson’s, but the second he is off air, the image is cut of a nonchalent, churlish misanthrope chain smoking and chinwagging with network executives in full clown attire betting against the Harlem Globetrotters, lighting cigars with $100 bills and putting his pacemaker under considerable strain. Does this resemble a mirror image of what troubled stars get up to at their very worst? In 2012 its easier than ever to get involved with being a voyeur – social media has made sure of that forever. Robert Downey Jr’s drug abuse is well publicized, Amy Winehouse met her end via intoxicants, and the list goes on.

The anti-establishment and counter-cultured may not like it, but perhaps selling out is the way to go for some for those who have the wherewithal or the shrewd business sense. In a 1994 film, ”Swimming With Sharks” about a film executive who mercilessly makes an intern’s life hell states that ”if you’re not a rebel by 20 you’ve got no heart, but if you’ve not sold out by 30 you haven’t got brains.” An injustice considering that sweat shops, exploitation of workers and shoddy products/endorsements make the filthy rich even more filthy (morally) and much richer, but it’s the way the modern world works. Money talks, bullshit walks is often bandied around, but never truer with selling out.

When it happened again at 5am yesterday, I took the opportunity to observe them from the blind of my porch.  There were about seven of the critters up in a nearby spruce.  They were incredibly good at blending in and becoming one with the tree when I made myself known.  Before they realized I was watching them, however, I was privileged to hear them “talk”.  Raccoon speak is incredibly darling sounding.  Imagine Ewok sounding chortles, chirring, trilling and purring.  I watched as two climbed to the very top of the tree in order to survey the surroundings, probably to ascertain if my dog was still waiting for them.

As I watched these mischievous creatures, I reflected on my own raccoon side.  I certainly have a mischievous streak.  From a very young age I remember enjoying trying to sneak up on my family members; moving soundlessly became an obsession.  I had little respect for property lines and would traipse through anyone’s yard and help myself to their blueberries or other delectables.   Eavesdropping was also great fun.   My observational skills were honed with daily practice.  I was seen as a quiet and sweet little girl; the last one anyone would suspect of any kind of mischief.  When I was in high school the Army tried to recruit me, attempting to lure me in with the promise that they had me ear-marked for top-secret clearance- undercover spy type of work.  Well, they will say anything to get their hooks in you.  I didn’t buy in for a moment, but still…

As an adult, I don’t get a whole lot of opportunity to use my “spy” sensibilities.  Okay, I did recently get to play out an all-time favorite fantasy when I successfully snuck into the ridiculously patrolled Oregon Country Fair night party.  I’m not a thief and have never snuck into a movie or any other such thing, but you simply can’t buy a ticket into the Oregon Country Fair night party, you have to “know” someone.  Well, as my British grandfather Basil used to proclaim with one shaking raised fist: balls to that I say!  Down with elitism!

I do have a point and I’m getting to it.  The raccoons seem to be calling me to remember that sneaky side of myself, and put it to good use.  It is a worthy challenge.  One scheme I am cooking up involves getting my students involved.  We’ll be secret agents of change.  We’ll practice guerrilla gardening, sneak in labeled food waste bins to local businesses (effectively forcing them to start composting) and make imitation grocery store signs that declare messages such as “plastic never biodegrades” amongst isles filled with plastic packaging.

I’m soliciting ideas and encouraging others to put on their own raccoon mask and join the cause.  By hook or by crook, positive change will come!

Please, if you have any other ideas, do share them in the comments section.  That way, others will be privy to the schemes as well.  And now, I will leave you with another favorite Ari Lesser rhyme to inspire the sneaky conspirator within us all:

CCIA

Somewhere deep inside the forest is our command center
A secret place which few people have entered
New agents who visit can see we’re not your average spies
We don’t wear the shiny shoes, black suits and neck ties

We rock blue jeans, tie-dyes, and Birkenstock sandals
And keep our headquarters smelling fresh with scented candles

But usually we’re busy in a state of upheaval
Fighting against the forces of corruption and evil
Working hard for the people trying to change the status quo
We’re the good secret agents in case you didn’t know

When the corrupt hear about me they be getting kind of nervous
I’m a double 0 agent for the hippie secret service
Counter Culture Intelligence, the CCIA
If you plot against the people, better watch what you say

You’ll never see us coming we can spy like spiders
We’re hackey sack assassins, Frisbee flinging freedom fighters
Sharp as sharks’ teeth and hard as granite
Protecting this earth like captain planet

We’re the type of people that a corporation hates
Stopping illegal practices in all 50 states
We’re peaceful people don’t want to cause any harm
But we got a full arsenal of non-lethal arms

Sound guns, smoke grenades, tear gas, and mace
Commit a crime against the earth and your sure to get a taste
So corporation watch out if you be polluting
Or else we’ll storm your headquarters with tranquilizers shooting

Round up the executives of your company
And take you to a public park for everyone to see
Tie you up naked, arms wrapped around a tree
Then you’ll be a tree-hugger, just like me

When corporations hear about me they be getting kind of nervous
I’m a double 0 agent for the hippie secret service
Counter Culture Intelligence, the CCIA
If you plot against the people, better watch what you say

You’ll never see us coming we can spy like spiders
We’re hackey sack assassins, Frisbee flinging freedom fighters
Sharp as sharks’ teeth and hard as granite
Protecting this earth like captain planet

Our countries politicians got some kind of nerve
Liberals don’t liberate, conservatives don’t conserve
That’s why the CCIA has taken on the mission
Of hunting down and taking out these crooked politicians

It seems like illegal activities the norm
Politicians taking bribes in so many different forms
Our country’s screwed cause you people are so greedy
Representing the rich, instead of helping out the needy

Sick of this shit, we’re going to settle the score
Steal all your money and give it to the poor
So think twice before you do some corporations bidding
Take a bribe and test us if you think that I’m kidding

When politicians hear about me they be getting kind of nervous
I’m a double 0 agent for the hippie secret service
Counter Culture Intelligence, the CCIA
If you’re plotting against the people, better watch what you say

You’ll never see us coming we can spy like spiders
We’re hackey sack assassins, Frisbee flinging freedom fighters
Sharp as sharks teeth and hard as granite
Protecting this earth like captain planet

lyrics by Ari Lesser

I enjoyed the exercise in consciously accepting energy from the sun, my surroundings and friends, but apparently, sleep is something my body isn’t ready to trade in.   However, I have been keeping good on the sunsets.  Plus, I enjoyed my sunrise experiences so much I’m definitely going to be seeing more of them.  Perhaps just not so many in a row…

Sleep deprivation is wonderful when it is novelty.  It can really shake you out of your normal brain wave patterns.  Light, people, thoughts and places all seem different when I’m feeling sleep-loopy.   I felt I was able to connect with others and my surroundings in a fresh new way.

However, when feeling deprived of sleep is your daily reality, it’s not such a pretty experience.  I’m sure others will nod their heads to that.  And yet, our culture puts so much pressure on us to be productive that sleeping is often seen as lazy and there is much guilt surrounding naps and how much you allow yourself to snooze.

Well, it’s time to knock that idea off a cliff and here’s why:

• sleeping consumes no resources
• it’s healthy
• it’s much better than any number of other activities you could be doing
• when something feels that good, it can’t be wrong
• reaching deep levels of sleep plugs you into the divine or the collective unconsciousness
• dreams can be such gifts

So sweet dreams fellow dreamers.

Life can be such an interesting and dramatic affair.  When the drama gets to be a bit much, it feels so great to visit a beautiful seashore and simply watch the sun melt into a dream.

Jake, my best friend and life partner of 11 years, also has a special way of dealing with drama.  He raps about it and it is seriously funny.  He’s bringing out the hip-hop in me too.  While we enjoyed the sun sink, he kept rhyming to me and goading me to respond in rhyme.  I doubted my abilities at first, but was astonished to find myself finding a flow and kicking back some mad rhymes.  It was kind of exhilarating. It’s all about going for it and having the trust that the words and rhymes will flow.  And so while we enjoyed the closing of a most dramatic day, we laughed ourselves silly as we recapped the week’s strange events via rhyme.  I wish I could remember the verses to share them with you.

I’ve never been much into hip-hop, but suddenly, I’m fully on board with the hip-hop revolution.  Spoken word artist, Ari Lesser, is mostly responsible for this change in viewpoints.  His rhymes are intelligent, socially conscious, easy to follow, beautiful and often heart-opening.  I’ve posted the lyrics to one of my favorite Ari rhymes.  You can also check him out here (be sure to listen to his biographies of Pablo Escobar, Malcom X and Che Guevara):  arithemc.bandcamp.com

Survival of the Fittest

A tiger is a quarter-ton killing machine
Anywhere from eight feet long to thirteen
Four muscular legs give it great power
Allowing it to reach speeds of forty miles an hour

Or leap thirty feet taking prey by surprise
Bringing down buffalo six times it’s size
With retractable five inch claws on it’s paws
And razor sharp teeth in it’s flesh tearing jaws

So if you had to bet on a competition
Between a grown man in peak physical condition
And a Bengal tiger brought straight from the wild
The choice would be simple, even to a simple child

A UFC master of mixed martial arts
Would be done for, minutes after the match starts
An unarmed man would not just be beaten
He’d be really disarmed when his arms were eaten

The boldest of men would be quick to admit
The big cat is far more physically fit
But if Darwin was right and the fittest survives
Why are tigers endangered, while the human race thrives

Tigers are stronger, so one would think
It should be us humans going extinct
While the fierce felines atop the food chain
Maintain their reign over earth’s domain

Obviously, that’s not going on
But that doesn’t mean that Darwin was wrong
Instead, I would like to submit
That strength alone does not make one fit

You see humans are social, quite contrary
To tigers who tend to be very solitary
They don’t live together or form coalitions
They even kill their own cubs to avoid competition

And because of that the tiger will die
Though it is stronger than you and I
It is not as fit as us all together
So as a community, humans are better

From this one could draw the conclusion
That individuality is an illusion
The idea of going it alone is a lie
Without community, we would all die

It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor
You’re more dependent on society than ever before
You might not like it but you can’t ignore
That we all get food from the grocery store

Our produce was grown in foreign soil
Transported here using foreign oil
We didn’t plant the wheat or pave the street
But we each end up with some food to eat

In a way we were all naturally selected
To run the earth by being interconnected
A human can’t make it just by being strong
We can only survive by getting along

It’s not about strength when push comes to shove
To be fit as a human is all about love
Love has literally kept us alive
Building communities that let us survive

To go it alone is unrealistic
You can’t survive being individualistic
So before you do something selfish, just think
About the all those tigers going extinct

Thank you Ari!  Your messages are just what the world needs now!  Viva la hip-hop revolution!

The possibilities are endless:  create your own cd (you could mark it as free), hang your own art up at a fancy shmancy gallery, attach your own labels to harmful products etc.  This is a  really fun and creative way to express yourself, but please, do stay away from the children’s isles.