Pages

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

John From America

It is somewhere around the late 1800s; way, way far out in the Southwest Pacific. In places like New Guinea, Micronesia, Melanesia, and Fiji, as the white-skinned Europeans began their way into the lands of the indigenous peoples that populated these remote areas - whether it be for colonizing, missionary work or military purposes - the effect of these foreign visitors with their enormous flying machines, bizarre behavior, and plentiful and awe-inspiring cargo is very powerful stuff to the natives. Almost immediately, the natives take the things they have experienced and incorporate them into their religious views.

These things the white men bring with them, like food, clothing, machines, medicines, weapons, and whatever else, are items that the native people begin to desire very intensely.

For these native people, acquiring these things is something that can only be done through the practice of religious ritual.

They develop their belief system, centered around the idea that their ancestors are the only inhabitants of paradise, and add that their ancestors alone control the cargo. Sadly, the white man has cleverly, and through terrible manipulation, managed to deceive the ancestors into allowing the cargo to fall into the white man’s hands.

In order to remedy this situation, the natives believe that if they practice the proper rituals with a high enough level of consistency, eventually they will catch the attention of their ancestors and thus begin to receive the shipments of “holy” cargo they have always deserved.

During World War II, and after the establishment of an American military presence in Vanuatu (then New Hebrides), a myth began to gain weight around an American serviceman named John Frum. According to the story, John Frum was a man who told the Natives that he was the one they must follow, and that by following him they would insure that once Frum leaves them to go back to America, he will eventually return with their long-deserved cargo.

It makes a great deal of sense to suspect that the name John Frum was adapted from the terminology “John, from America,” which would have been a reasonable way for a native to refer to an American serviceman. Additionally, it needs to be mentioned that there are no records of a John Frum ever having served in the military at that time.

Once the idea of John Frum began to grow legs, the locals began to imitate the practices of the white people in order to attract the attention of the cargo planes, thereby diverting the cargo to its rightful destination – them.

The natives built bamboo and straw airplanes, runways, air towers, radios, and many other trappings of the white people.

They devised a specific day upon which Frum would return to them, cargo in hand. Their day was the 15th of February (the year never having been determined). And while the story goes that Frum would return soon after he left (in the 40s), the cult is still active, and they are still waiting patiently and dutifully for his return. In fact, February 15 in Vanuatu is still John Frum day.

In his amazing and (I believe) essential book, Richard Dawkins uses the story of the Cargo Cults to help explain, in part, how religions come about. He explains how these cults sprang up more-or-less around the same time, to groups of people that had no contact whatsoever with one another either physically or culturally.

Dawkins explains that this behavior is an example of the way in which people are easily capable of taking ideas, no matter how improbable, or perhaps due to their improbability and using them for the foundation of religious belief.

He argues quite convincingly that these sorts of events say a great deal about how human psychology is tailor-made to develop odd myth-based religious beliefs.

And best of all, while it might be easy to regard these people as delusional and downright silly, how far off is it to recognize that what these people believe is essentially no different than what we believe here in the West?

Is it not utter lunacy to believe, without anything close to convincing evidence, that there was once a man, born of a virgin, who also happened to be an omnipresent, omnipotent god? How about that this all-powerful god died as a mortal man, was entombed, and then miraculously escaped from his tomb, hung out for a while, and then ascended back to heaven to sit alongside his father, who just happens to also be himself?

Anyone still with me?

Cargo Cult Wikipedia Entry

John Frum Wikipedia Entry

Smithsonian Magazine article on Frum

The above video was embedded from the Atheist Nation website, and you can watch its second part there as well. The video footage was added to Richard Dawkins’ section on Cargo Cults and the origins of religion from his excellent and devastating book, The God Delusion.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Don’t Buy a Compaq, They Suck Shit! (HP Too!)

My laptop, or as I call it – screed central, has been in my grubby mitts for about a year and a half. In the last two months, the piece of shit has decided that it would be in its best interest to not come back up after it hibernates. Instead, it simply locks up, never to return.

As a result of this, I have had to resort to turning off sleep/hibernation in lieu of having to shut it down by the power switch and forcing it into a lengthy loop of partial start-ups. I often must repeat this many times before it “catches.” It’s extremely frustrating.

Fortunately, the tech support guys in Mumbai have been able to do absolutely nothing whatsoever to remedy the issue.

What follows in the latest back-and-forth between these half-wits and myself.

The expense of an Apple (beyond my means) is hurtling towards worth it, with every passing crash.


[An agent will be with you shortly.]
[You are now chatting with Rory .]
Rory : Hello John,
Rory : Welcome to HP Total Care.

John Cramer : thanks
Rory : Hi, how are you doing ?
John Cramer : fine, you?
Rory : I am doing good, Thank you.
John Cramer : i am following up with the ref# above
Rory : Yes, May I take about 2-3 minutes of your time to check the information for you?
John Cramer : yes
Rory : Thank you.
John Cramer : sure
John Cramer : You still there?
(After several multiples of 2-3 minutes.)
Rory : Yes, I am with you online. (With you online? I suspect this guy’s not really called Rory.)
John Cramer : what's next?
John Cramer : the results for the hard drive test were: 00 pass

Rory : Please let me know whether you have performed the harddrive self test in the notebook?
Rory : Thank you for the information.
Rory : John,As per the information given by you and as all troubleshooting steps have already been performed, I suspect a hardware problem with the system.
Rory : I suggest you to send the notebook to repair to resolve the issue.
(Because after one useless BIOS update, and one totally pointless power conditioning experiment, what could possibly be left? Such professionalism is the hallmark of Compaq.)
John Cramer : awesome
Rory : Let me check your notebook warrenty.
John Cramer : it's expired, surprise!
Rory : Please let me know the the Serial Number(eg: CNS34915MC) and Product Number (eg:DS542U) of the Notebook? You can find the Serial Number and Product Number of the Notebook by locating on a sticker attached to the top or bottom of the Notebook.
John Cramer : s/n __________, p/n __________.
Rory : Oh! In this case I suggest you to take the notebook to nearest service center or send the notebook to HP for paid mail in service to resolve the issue. (Translation: Oh! That means you have to pay for the repairs! Right on time, asshole!)
John Cramer : now I know why the computer was so cheap
Rory : I understand your concern.Its unfortunate that this had happend (It’s also unfortunate that I have instructed Lord Vishnu to shit on your face.)
John Cramer : yes, it's also unfortunate that Compaq has lost a customer. this notebook is a year and a half old! I don't carry it around, it sits on my desk! I've been easy on it! I suspect the repairs will be worth more than this computer. I think it might be time for an apple. I am surprised that you basically have no information for me other than to tell me to pay to have it repaired. What hardware are you thinking it might be?
Rory : John, this could be issue with the motherboard of the notebook.However notebook should be diagnozed to know the exact issue.
John Cramer : is this a common problem with compaq notebooks?
Rory : John, it is not the common problem with the compaq notebooks.
John Cramer : i don't think this is a motherboard issue. but thanks anyway. (And, I’m also wondering just what is the problem with Compaq notebooks.)
Rory : Have a great time ahead.
Rory : Thank you for contacting HP Total care and giving us an opportunity to
serve you. It’s been a pleasure assisting you today.
Rory : Thank you for contacting HP Total Care Real-Time chat support. If you need further assistance, please contact us again at:
http://www.hp.com/support/chat
Chat support is available 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week.
For information on keeping your HP and Compaq products up and running, please visit our Web site at:

http://www.hp.com/go/totalcare
John Cramer : you as well also for having a good timing! (If you can’t beat ‘em!)

 

Have a great time ahead? I’ve known Indian people, and not a single one uses English this jilted. What the fuck? Did I just chat up a bot? Could this “support” have been any less helpful if their support page was just a photo of HP’s CEO’s puckered starfish?

I am so broke it’s scary, and yet, I suspect I will be pillaging my credit card in the very near future and hitting up Apple, thereby reducing my odds of doing this again anytime soon.

I never bought an Apple because of the up-front costs, but if you add up the money I’ve spent over the years on PCs, mother boards, hard drives, etc… I am starting to feel very foolish.

god dammit!

Friday, April 10, 2009

One Leg at a Time

When Billy Bob Thornton’s band, the Shitponies (or whatever they’re called), appeared on the radio/TV show QTV, the host, during the introduction to the interview, apparently made the cardinal sin of mentioning Thornton’s secret other life as an actor. The host also shit all over the art of a genius by implying that the band played a particular style of rock entitled Modbilly, which I must admit sounds pretty retarded but is no reason to do what Thornton does in response.

According to Thornton, who eventually actually answers some questions, the host was instructed not to mention Billy’s other profession. It seem to be because Billy wants to be accepted as a musician purely on the merit of the music. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it seems beyond juvenile to act dumb and effectively refuse to give actual answers to any questions.

The best part is the obvious discomfort of the rest of the band while all this is going on. It’s also amazing to me how the host is able to not tear into Thornton for being such a total dick.

According to the host, there was no prior instruction to avoid any topic, and while I’m not sure what was the case, who really cares?

Some other highlights include when Billy refers to himself as a music historian as if this carries any weight whatsoever. Do music historians not have to admit they ever acted in massively successful movies?

It’s also awesome when the host asks a question and Billy angrily retorts some horseshit about how the host would never ask Tom Petty the same question.

Maybe, when you can honestly claim to bedding someone like Angelina Jolie when you yourself are so old and hideous you have to be careful not to step on your own ballsack on your way out of the shower, I suppose you might earn the right to act like a total douche on a radio show.

I think the lesson here is that Billy Bob wants us to know that he shits his pants one leg at a time, just like you or me.

That alone is a comfort.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Found at the Flea Market…

100_0360

Monday, April 6, 2009

Who's Your Tailor?

Jandek.

In the world of white-boy music-geek fandom, there is none higher. No single name evokes more ebullient outbursts of nerdy pride. He is a living rock myth, a folk hero for losers, an icon for individualism. You know... or some shit.

I have admittedly contributed to the cult of Jandek by simply being a fan of his carefully cultivated public persona. I have also struggled with my ideas about the man and his music as I have found much of his work (and I have a shitload of it) to be unlistenable.

In the early 90s I was roommates with Tom Carter, then Mike Gunn guitarist, now avant-garde sensation in his own right. Tom worked in the local underground record shop and thus had a huge selection of records that I willingly and thankfully plundered daily. He was the guy to introduce me to the music of Jandek. I found the shattered and disemboweled blues-ish horror show to be oddly fascinating in a Cramps play an asylum sort of way. I also dug that whoever Jandek really was was something very carefully guarded. I also liked that there were bits of information that would occasionally surface that shed some light on who the reclusive and prolific artist really was.

Back then nobody really knew about the guy save for record dorks like Tom. This didn't make Jandek cool, it made him sort of warmly pathetic. He seemed to do whatever he was doing because he was compelled to, not because he had some master plan to be the king of hipster dorkdom.

Over time of course thing changed for our hometown hero. Spin magazine hit the guy up in an article. Texas Monthly tracked him down. Some folks put together a documentary about the man which was much more interesting than perhaps the man himself. And in the process they exposed the beauty of Jandek. He began to function as a mirror to the dreams of music dweebs.

It wasn't long before you-know-who made a now legendary appearance (unannounced, naturally) at an outsider-ish music festival in Scotland. With the cat more or less out of the bag, suddenly the guy was out and about. It became feasible to read about him bagging Paris, or knocking up Sarah Palin's kid, or what have you. He was becoming a little too... exposed.

And this was the point at which the rift began to open in his ocean-wide reputation as a reclusive cipher.

Enter Sunday afternoon.

Jandek shows now being a dime a dozen, it was only a matter of time before he headlined his own local performance.

But not to be outdone by himself it had to be something special.

So what does the sepulchral lord of darkness and shadow do? What does the undisputed master of hiding and mystery do?

He plays a day show, at a pub, to a cheering, dancing, adoring audience.

And best of all...

He plays funk.

Funk.

With slap bass and groovy drumming.

He plays a 90 minute freeform funk jam. And he motherfucking raps.

And no, it isn't cool in an ironic sort of way, and no it isn't transcendent in a do what you want and fuck who doesn't get it kind of way.

Nahh, it's none of that.

What Jandek does is erase every last shred of mystique and curiosity and wonder and appeal and simply reduces himself to an indulgent dupe who has consumed barrels of his own kool-aid and has come out the other side as the single most fervent adherent to the cult of himself.

Not cool. Not clever. Not good. Not worth it.

Just unabashed and unadulterated garbage. Street corner busking with a pitiful withered husk of a man begging for your love. He emerged from his self-made cocoon, shed his parchment-like skin, and burst forth a newly minted reflection of whatever idiotic dreams everyone but himself had made of him.

The well has been poisoned.

The drinks are watered down.

His naked majesty, the grand marshal, the overseer of nightmares, paraded before us, in the bright light of spring, and exposed to be nothing more than what he really ever was...

A man.

Too bad. I liked our idea of him better.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

While we are subjected....

While listening to the Jonestown tape is one of the most chilling experiences I can think of, the tragedy is to my mind somehow almost uplifting. This mind boggling pointless act, like all cult tragedies, is what comes of isolation. Shunning society can do considerable mental harm no doubt. So it is less a failure of society than a failure to be social.

The real tragedies  --the ones that lead me to fear for our overall well being-- are acted out within the greater social order. I give you the Sudan where murder, rape and mass destruction are, to this day, committed on its nationals by its very own government.  The way I see it, us in our great well of resources are only that far removed. When there is not enough to go around then surely only the strongest will survive and do so by savagery. So I say, to prepare for this day...please remember these very effective (they have successfully worked in Sudan and they can work for you!) measures:

1. Poison your neighbors' drinking water by murdering their children and throwing them into the water supply thereby poisoning it.
2. You're white, you're neighbor is white...but are they "white white?" If you have to ask, they probably aren't. Find a gun and shoot them.
3. Kill the children so they can't reproduce. Rape the women to demoralize the men. Kill the old people just for fun.
4. Take what you can use and destroy the rest.
5. God loves you. Use this. You are better than them. God is on your side.