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Forgotten Futures in Seattle

Sunset on the Puget Sound.

Had a sweet trip to Seattle for Adriana’s birthday over Thanksgiving weekend. She won some hockey tickets at a curling bonspiel so we went to see “our” San Jose Sharks beat the Seattle Kraken at the arena now known as “The Climate Pledge,” a name no one I asked could explain. I learned later that the name is a new one for an old arena built as part of the original World’s Fair in 1962—an event that crept into my 5-year-old brain even though I don’t have direct memory of it. But somehow the Space Needle and the Monorail made an early impression on me.

The Climate Edge?

Space Needle and Monorail… The Future! in 1962…

My father, who was born in 1932 in the depths of the Depression, and grew up poor in rural Connecticut, was always quite interested in World’s Fairs. He took us to the New York World’s Fair in 1964, a trip we made by passenger train from Chicago. I have a poignant 7-year-old memory of waking up at dawn on the clickety-clacking train, probably somewhere in Ohio, and sitting with my father watching the countryside flow by. I loved riding the train and later I remember the big geodesic dome at the World’s Fair, the exhibit that later went to Disneyland called “It’s a Small World” with the children’s voices singing in a big chorus “it’s a small small world… after all…” The 1964 World’s Fair also featured videophones, various corporate representations of the World of Tomorrow (General Motors, Boeing, General Electric, etc.). I’ve learned in recent years about the 1915 World’s Fair in San Francisco, and the way such fairs functioned before mass media to advertise new technologies, new ways of seeing the world, and pioneered the forms of mass-marketing and advertising that later became commonplace in large stores, and by way of radio and then television.

In Seattle they had a World’s Fair in 1962 and as it was during the Kennedy administration with its prominent push to put a “man on the moon” by the end of the decade, the space-as-future theme was central. The Space Needle remains an iconic symbol of Seattle’s skyline, but I hadn’t ever visited it until this short trip. The monorail that leaves from below the Space Needle was just as much part of the “future” that the 1962 World’s Fair was so successful at promoting. When you enter the tower today, paying a hefty $38 per person, you walk up a spiral ramp past a series of displays showing how the Space Needle “played” during its construction and opening 62 years ago.

Welcome to the Future!

I can’t remember watching The Jetsons, though I’m sure I did. I was born in 1957, the peak year of the baby boom, and I’ve shared with 6.4 million others countless “typical” experiences of the last half of the 20th century. Technology, fast cars, guns, American exceptionalism, teevee and the steady expansion of “major league” mass spectator sports, Hollywood and eventually computers and the internet… it’s the air I breathed alongside everyone else. But I didn’t buy it. Sure I like sports (hell, I went to Seattle to see a hockey game!), and I’ve certainly been a relatively early adopter of many of the technologies that have come along. But I’m enraged by the smug complacency that surrounds me, that thinks this is the best of all possible worlds, that feels entitled to be entertained by endless cruelty both fictional and horribly real. I supposed I’m most dismayed by the utter emptiness of the glowing futures I’ve been sold since childhood. Nobody who knows me would characterize me as believer in the American Dream—I doubt if anyone would even tar me with the shameful label of “patriot.”

from Democracy Wall on Valencia Street in San Francisco.

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Autocracy Defeats Neoliberalism

Golden Gate Park a few months ago…

I guess it’s oddly appropriate to find myself two hours into the limbo of the jury duty room at San Francisco’s Hall of (In)justice. The clerks have ordered us to remain here several times while apologizing that the courts just aren’t ready for us. Pretty normal I suppose but more vivid evidence of the decaying civic institutions that will now creak and groan and probably crumble as a formal and popularly elected autocracy takes hold. (At the end of the day they let me go due to scheduling conflicts with the trial length.)

I didn’t vote for Harris or Trump and haven’t voted for a president since Jimmy Carter in 1976! I just don’t believe in the whole model and it feels hypocritical to pretend otherwise. My voting fits best under the rubric of “harm reduction” but I understand why so many people rejected Harris and the Democrats, especially the corporatist version they presented in this campaign (much the same as the failed 2016 Clinton campaign). Really they should be ashamed to have embraced the fuckin’ Cheneys the way they did! Dick Cheney’s endorsement should have been loudly rejected. The dude’s a war criminal and profiteer and an all around horrible human being. His daughter is not much better, albeit her hands are a bit less dirty. Still.

Neoliberalism is dead this time! Liberal democracy might be too. Trump did promise his Christian supporters that if they’d just show up and elect him that they’d never have to vote again. A lot of us have glibly assumed that the system needs the empty ritual of regular elections as a way to prove its popular support and legitimacy. Maybe, maybe not! Maybe “legitimacy” has morphed and will now be achieved by delivering the right balance of (a little) bread and (a lot of) circuses to the hungry masses. And one thing we can be sure of—Trump and his acolytes are enthusiastically planning vast Theaters of Cruelty to feed their followers’ desire for punishment, for pain infliction, for degradation, and above all, putting women and blacks “in their place.”

American culture—whether Hollywood gore-fests, or the multi-billion dollar video game industry (dominated by Pentagon-friendly products to support the “volunteer” military), or the brutal UFC ring fights, or the absurd “pro wrestling” circuit, or every Sunday NFL football, or any of a number of other attention-absorbing, money-making horrors—saturates society with endless violence. The rampant gun violence, daily TV news where “if it bleeds it leads,” and the distorted portrayal of a non-existent crime epidemic all contribute to the lonely, fearful isolation that traps ever more Americans.

Much has been made of the breakdown of a shared reality. If it’s true that door-to-door canvassing couldn’t dent the world views of people getting all their news on social media or from Fox, then indeed a mass delusional psychosis has gripped millions. Truth-telling is not an effective antidote to this unprecedented system of propaganda and mind control. Those of us who remain outside of their control are a shrinking minority—and many dissenters may face criminalization and state violence in the months and years to come. It’s a bleak picture, to be sure.

Taking bleak despair to a whole other level is Franco Berardi, aka “Bifo.” Writing now on Substack he posted his “Endgame” on November 9 (I rearranged the order of these paragraphs):

Despite being, country by country, on the brink of civil war, Western and supremacist peoples are united in the common undertaking of genocide and in the common enterprise of enforced birthing. For a long time we fooled ourselves by listening to fairy tales of a fantastic multitude ready to fight against a fantastic Empire: we didn’t have the intellectual courage to recognize social impotence, and the exhaustion of the psychic energy without which social movements are flashes in the pan.

The triumph of a man who represents in one go the racism of the Ku Klux Klan, mafia criminal profiteering, macho violence and financial absolutism is the best observation point from which to finally look retrospectively at the twentieth century, and to some extent, imagine the lines of evolution of the twenty-first. The Trump-triumph is the final proof that the workers’ movement has made a colossal mistake since the end of the nineteenth century, accepting the terrain of politics as the terrain for emancipation. Both revolutionary Bolshevism and social democratic reformism have accepted the terrain that the bourgeoisie had prepared, and on that terrain they lost all battles up to the point of being definitively erased from the panorama of social evolution. Was there another ground for social autonomy, other than political power? Of course there was: it was daily life, collective existence, which spontaneously tends to desert economic and political totalitarianism.

Workers today are isolated, psychically fragile, incapable of organization and solidarity, because the political Left exchanged autonomy for democracy, and democracy was a fake and a trap. Government based on elections could be a good idea if two conditions were met: the first is the free formation of opinion and will. The second is the effectiveness of political will in determining the lines of development of the economy and therefore of society. Both conditions have never existed in the history of the twentieth century.

Since working on Processed World back in the 1980s, I always thought the abdication of “organized labor” to the agenda(s) of capital was at the heart of the problem. I didn’t think about it in the same terms that Bifo describes above, as a rejection of the whole field of bourgeois democracy as a trap, but I think he’s right. Similar to John Holloway’s rejection of the very category of “worker” as the starting point for revolt, it’s our fundamental humanity that is the basis for our desires and ability to radically transform how we live, and to redesign how we produce life together. Because however dismayed or depressed this election might make anyone feel, the dire reality of climate chaos—spreading droughts and desertification, runaway storms and floods, collapsing agricultural production and destruction of fresh water resources—is a lot worse than the question of which person is fiddling while the planet burns.

Continue reading Autocracy Defeats Neoliberalism

History… We’re Soaking in It!

Visiting the Pacific Ocean in late August, an easy bike ride from home…

Last December I wrote a bit about my discovering more deep history around the Pacific. I neglected to mention then my pal Tina’s remarkable atlas Sea Change: An Atlas of Islands in a Rising Ocean. In it she makes her way from island to island around the planet, giving capsule histories and likely scenarios as the oceans continue their inexorable rise. California’s history is fully intertwined with that of the Philippines, Hawaii, Japan, Korea, China, India and the rest of what is lumped together as Asia and the Pacific. Tina’s atlas doesn’t try to untangle all those complicated histories, though she notes many important pieces in passing. In the past few weeks I’ve had the pleasure of diving rather deeply into this.

An incredible book, well over 500 pages, is Alfred McCoy’s 2009 opus Policing America’s Empire: The United States, the Philippines, and the Rise of the Surveillance State. He has popped up in prior blog posts of mine as the author of various works describing the steady unraveling of the US empire (he originally made his name with The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia that revealed the role of the CIA in running heroin during the Vietnam war). This book on the Philippines and US colonialism is a tour de force, and a product of 40 years of close research McCoy carried out during most of his academic life. It covers the initial seizure of the Philippines in 1898 and betrayal of the ongoing war of liberation there, through the many years of developing and perfecting technologized systems of counterinsurgency and colonial repression, up to the post-WWII granting of formal independence, the Marcos martial law regime, the post-martial law “democratic” governments up to Gloria Arroyo’s in the early 2000s, and more. It’s so detailed and is so careful to connect the role of various colonial administrators (starting with future president William Howard Taft, governor of the Philippines in 1901) to their later roles in US domestic politics, that it is incredibly revealing. Perhaps as telling, if you followed any of the news of Philippine President Duterte, who was wildly Trumpian in his denunciations of drug users and criminals and brazen in unleashing the police and military in mass killing campaigns, reading this book you come to realize that he wasn’t such a huge departure from what preceded him in Philippine politics (nor what followed, i.e. “Bongo” Marcos, Jr.). It is a work of deep historiography too. Here McCoy helps illuminate a framework he employs that sets him apart from most historians:

Even this research is still, at this writing, overwhelmed by the sheer mass of dissertations, monographs, histories, textbooks, documentaries, monuments, and museums whose unstated, unwitting aim is to affirm state authority. Through the sum of these endeavors, historians have encircled the nation-state with a sacral barrier that precludes cognizance of its profane margins: systemic violence, institutional corruption, extralegal security operations, and most important, syndicated vice. Many social historians have escaped the nation-state’s hegemony through studies of popular movements among workers, women, or minorities. But few have looked at the state long and hard from its sordid underside—an interstice that is the sum of addiction, avarice, blackmail, cowardice, scandal, torture, venality, and violence. As acolytes of the nation-state, conventional historians turn away from such a disconcerting dimension and often adopt a positive, at times celebratory view of their polity that discourages consideration of the influence of the informal on the formal, the criminal on the powerful, or, in some cases, the colonized on the colonizer. (p. 12)

I will come back to McCoy in a bit. There’s much more to share from his work, and it connects in various ways to other themes I want to expand on. But first let’s bring in Amitav Ghosh’s latest nonfiction work Smoke & Ashes: Opium’s Hidden Histories. This is a work that carefully brings to the forefront the sordid underside McCoy describes above. It also helpfully grants the poppy plant itself historical agency!

The brute fact is that it was a flower that defeated the mightiest military power in human history [the U.S. in Afghanistan]: the opium poppy may be humble in appearance, but it is one of the most powerful Beings that humans have encountered in their time on earth. To be sure, tea, sugarcane, tobacco, rubber, cotton, Yersinia pestis, and many other plants and pathogens have played major roles in human history, some of them over several centuries. But today they are all much diminished in their influence, while the opium poppy is mightier than ever. (p. 112) … in colonizing the poppy fields of Bihar [India], the colonizers have themselves been colonized—by a non-human entity whose intelligence, patience and longevity far exceed that of humans. It is almost as if the elders of the plant kingdom, having concluded that Homo sapiens was too dangerous an animal to be allowed to survive, had given humankind a gift that they knew would be used by the most ruthless and powerful of the species to build economic systems that would slowly, inexorably, bring about the end of their civilization. (p. 250-251) … …opium creates its own temporalities: when opioid epidemics subside, they are followed by periods of amnesia, which, after a few decades, help to rehabilitate opioids all over again. These cycles are another sign of opium’s potency as a historical actor in its own right. (p. 270)

An all too common sight in San Francisco these days, someone in the midst of a “fentanyl freeze.”

San Francisco is famously having a drug problem. It’s decades old, but it is also quite new in that the arrival of synthetic opium in the form of fentanyl has been killing drug users at an unprecedented rate. The anti-overdose drug Narcan is now readily available and many people are carrying it around to try to save the lives of people who are obviously dying on our streets. It can be rather bleak walking past the blocks where police seem to have ushered the most desperate drug users to congregate. It is not uncommon these days to see people in almost any part of town doing the “fentanyl freeze” where they are rooted, standing stock still but bent completely in half as their upper torso has descended towards their knees, unable to sustain an upright position while experiencing the intense high of a fresh dose. It’s very sad, to say the least. But our opioid addiction crisis covers the country, and by all accounts is as bad or worse in many of the most abandoned and poverty-stricken rural areas of the midwest and the south in addition to the inner cities.

Continue reading History… We’re Soaking in It!