So, to anyone who knows me it is known that I think about weird things, or maybe I think about things weirdly. Either way, I think it’s sort of important, and I like thinking this way, perhaps because I have nothing to compare it to. In any case, right now I’m thinking about the fine establishment that prepared my coffee a few moments ago. It is not at all groundbreaking to say that Starbucks is a rather bizarre addition to Americana. Not to mention its meteoric rise from niche market to complete and utter ubiquity, essentially worldwide. This is strange for several reasons, the first of which being “who the hell though coffee could succeed as a pretentious, up-market, rich person’s medium?” How did coffee become a luxury product, and yet, in the same breath, become even more of a necessity in daily life? Say what you will about Starbucks (and I will say plenty) but they had an amazing marketing scheme. Now, Starbucks rise to power is probably most directly the result of the recent economic boom (by recent I mean last 25 years). So many people became rich or “well-off” so quickly, that they needed new avenues in which to experience what wealth and privilege affords a person. Thus, the 95 cent cup of coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts became the three dollar “Sumatra Roast” in partially recycled cups. For all anyone knew, DD’s could have been serving Sumatra the whole time, but by simply calling it “coffee” it became a pedestrian product. It should be noted that there has been a resurgence in appreciation for good old fashion coffee as both a backlash and complement to the luxury movement’s rise.
The three dollar coffee then became the latte, the mocha, the frappucino, the completely misnamed machiatto, and all other concoctions that have nothing at all to do with the morning jolt of caffeine. Now, of course, these products (at least the first two) have exists for ages in local, niche market coffee shops, but they used to have a bohemian quality to them. Now they’re pretentious, which is a pretty freaking weird shift in cultural attitudes. I should note that I myself am a snob and pretentious, but Starbucks has taken on a whole new dimension to it all. The first time I heard someone order a “Venti, lite, half-calf, caramel machitto with creme” I nearly had a stroke. I mean, I’m pretentious, but it’s coffee for god’s sake. I myself am drinking something pretty absurd, a medium (which the call grande, and it certainly doesn’t feel grand to me) espresso frappucino. Now, I am a hypocrite, this drink is ridiculous, and it barely classifies as coffee. On the other hand, it’s really just espresso, cold milk, and ice mixed up, not the crazy, flavored, lightened, heavied, creamed concoctions that look like smoothies (and basically are). I heard once that Starbucks was a place for people who normally make no decisions because it gives them an opportunity to make 6 at one time, and in the snootiest, most condescending way possible. This is a good point, but it still leaves me wondering a few things.
The most prevalent problem I have with this establishment is the sizes. Where to begin? A “tall” coffee cannot be the smallest available size. First of all, in almost all cases, “tall” is a relative term. That is, for one thing to be considered (and named) “tall” something else must be considered “short” or, at the very least, “less tall” or “taller”. What the hell was wrong with ordering a small coffee? Was it, like DD’s too pedestrian? And if so, why wasn’t their earlier, also pretentious “short” designation not good enough? I can only suspect it is because people ordering a small coffee, even if that is the size they want, feel somehow impotent or weak for not being able to handle more coffee. Starbucks instituted this change, but I’m reasonably certain it was America’s self-consciousness that created the need. The middle size is called “grande” which, again, is ridiculous. Again, what is it “grande” in respect to? There is a larger size, so shouldn’t it be “mediocre”? On top of that, it’s in Italian, as is the larger Venti size. Now, making sizes in another language is pretentious as hell, since, obviously, the rest of the menus and writing are in English, everyone speaks English, and this is an English speaking country (for now at least). This is the worst kind of pretension. It’s like the college students who insist on calling the southern Spanish city “Sevilla” complete with the “y” sound for the double L’s. If you’re talking about it in English, it’s Seville. That’s what’s on our maps isn’t it? Moscow is spelled in a different alphabet, as is Beijing, but we use approximations because our language doesn’t possess the same nuances, and that’s fine, it’s worked for years, but some people need to pretend to be smarter and more cultured to feel smart and cultured. This is both ironic and pathetic, it’s akin Madonna trying to tell people why she’s relevant, as that would be patently ridiculous and mildly insulting. But anyway, I can deal with the Italian sizes, or at least I could if they were all in Italian, but they’re not. “Tall” is still “tall” then it moves to “Grande” and this is about the most farcical thing in the whole establishment, enhanced by the fact that no one cares about it. No one, that is, but me. Like I said, I think about weird things.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Summer Romance and why we don't write letters
So, first of all, I love computers, the internet, and technology in general. I genuinely believe everything positive said about the information age. We are democratizing information and education worldwide, and it is getting to the people it needs to. If anyone has doubts about this, visit a rural town in the mountains near Kunming and witness the 90% cell phone ownership, at least 30% of which includes internet connected Palm Pilots and other such devices. So tech is good, tech is great, especially my new macbook, but of course, there are problems. These problems are myriad and well discussed, but I'm going to talk about one of them in particular. The negative that I focus on is that the internet has taken the shortening of the attention span caused by movies and TV (two other things I love) to the next level, and here's what I mean by that: TV and movies shortened our attention spans for the consumption of media and information, as well as turning human relationships into consumer transactions. It should be noted that this would probably have happened anyway, perhaps it's the natural evolution of a market economy, but video media certainly sped it up. What technology has done is shorten our attention span of human relationships. This is both exhilarating and terrifying.
As you can probably tell, I like My-Space. I also like Facebook, and shamelessly check it every time I log on to the internet. I don't think this is bad per se, but it's probably not good, and that's because we have lost the capacity to have relationships with people we are instantly able to connect with. One thing I was forced to do as an English major was read letters. Lots of letters, most of them terrible, were correspondences between intellectual writers, and they were mostly dull. However, I got the feeling from these letters that these people though about philosophy and meaning constantly (and they probably did) and that we don't at all (at least not after college). Now in itself, this is probably ok. For one thing, the world is more understandable now than then, and many of the big questions have been answered. Modern philosophy has more to do with the analysis of current events and culture than metaphysical existence. And again, this is probably ok, and a natural evolution of society, but it has destroyed letter writing.
I like writing letters, even though I don't do it very often. This is because it is inconvenient as hell in comparison with every other form of contact. Intellectuals have been bitching about this for awhile, though for the wrong reasons. E-mail isn't less personal than a full on letter. Or, at least, it doesn't have to be. I have scribed emails every bit as detailed, concentrated and eloquent as letters and they have been received and appreciated as such. The real problem with this lack of letter writing is that when you read these old letters (up until around 1890) you realize that these people who had such intricate philosophical and personal relationships almost never saw each other. Henry James's "BFF" was someone he saw probably less than a month per year, yet this in no way affected the intensity of their relationship. We can't operate like that anymore. We need response; we need contact. And that contact has to be physical emotional because TV has trained us to be even more visceral of beings than we were to start with. We now believe that the only way you can truly communicate with someone is face to face, and that's because it's the only way we observe other relationships, and the only way we can process them. This is the part that IS bad for us, and that's because we can no longer have intense relationships with people that we can't see constantly, at least not over long periods of time, which is bad because it shrinks our emotional world along with the real one. This is the problem with those fun catch-phrases "the world is getting smaller" and "the world is flat": as a result of the world shrinking we need it to be smaller and smaller. Our worlds now only exist within the realm of whom we can and cannot immediately see and come into contact with because A.) the internet has made us feel like we can always be in contact with everyone (which is partially true) and B.) we assume that everyone has access to travel because it is so efficient an somewhat affordable (which isn't true). Reason B. is also affected by the internet as we simply psychologically don't see the world as huge and vast and unconquerable anymore.
I started thinking about all of this because I just engaged in one of those old world things, one of those relationships that occurs for one month a year, and yet I know I will not write exquisite, metaphysical love letters to the other person all year, because that concept now seems almost stalker-y pathetic and completely outmoded, even if it isn't. This summer romance was honestly one of the most powerful times in my life and realization of human relationships, and it was only a week. -Another problem with the world shrinking is that time is too. We now unconsciously equate the time spent on something with its value and effect, longer being greater, even though we all know it's not strictly true. The longer you live in a foreign culture the more you adapt to it, but you don't necessarily actually like it more than the place you went for a one week vacation, or even a three night bender for that matter.- I feel emotionally, intellectually, and physically connected with someone I doubt will be a permanent fixture in my life (inasmuch as I doubt I will ever live in the same place as her). This is mostly an issue of circumstance, and an argument could be made to me that I'm romanticizing this relationship because it was short-lived and isolated, but I know that’s not true. No matter how cynical we all get, no matter how few letters we write, we will always have the capacity to feel deeply for people we almost never see. We just won’t think about it that much because of all the people we can see. The result of this is that now I feel like Montaigne or someone, because I feel such a connection and cannot actualize it, which is to say that (also like Montaigne) some of the happiest moments in my life now make me sad. This isn’t because of nostalgia (well, I suppose it must be partially nostalgia) but because I know that they’re meaning will fade into the blue and white headers of Zuckerman productions, a company run by a guy my age (which is also depressing). I guess the only thing to do is spread My-Space, and Facebook and Skype as far and wide as possible, if only so that we can all list our favorite quotes and be amused at them, then saddened by the fact that none of us actually say anything relevant anymore. We now need these things to fill us with the only kind of long distance contact we can still understand: superficial, anti-intellectual drivel. Oh well, I wonder if anyone has posted new photos with me in them?...
As you can probably tell, I like My-Space. I also like Facebook, and shamelessly check it every time I log on to the internet. I don't think this is bad per se, but it's probably not good, and that's because we have lost the capacity to have relationships with people we are instantly able to connect with. One thing I was forced to do as an English major was read letters. Lots of letters, most of them terrible, were correspondences between intellectual writers, and they were mostly dull. However, I got the feeling from these letters that these people though about philosophy and meaning constantly (and they probably did) and that we don't at all (at least not after college). Now in itself, this is probably ok. For one thing, the world is more understandable now than then, and many of the big questions have been answered. Modern philosophy has more to do with the analysis of current events and culture than metaphysical existence. And again, this is probably ok, and a natural evolution of society, but it has destroyed letter writing.
I like writing letters, even though I don't do it very often. This is because it is inconvenient as hell in comparison with every other form of contact. Intellectuals have been bitching about this for awhile, though for the wrong reasons. E-mail isn't less personal than a full on letter. Or, at least, it doesn't have to be. I have scribed emails every bit as detailed, concentrated and eloquent as letters and they have been received and appreciated as such. The real problem with this lack of letter writing is that when you read these old letters (up until around 1890) you realize that these people who had such intricate philosophical and personal relationships almost never saw each other. Henry James's "BFF" was someone he saw probably less than a month per year, yet this in no way affected the intensity of their relationship. We can't operate like that anymore. We need response; we need contact. And that contact has to be physical emotional because TV has trained us to be even more visceral of beings than we were to start with. We now believe that the only way you can truly communicate with someone is face to face, and that's because it's the only way we observe other relationships, and the only way we can process them. This is the part that IS bad for us, and that's because we can no longer have intense relationships with people that we can't see constantly, at least not over long periods of time, which is bad because it shrinks our emotional world along with the real one. This is the problem with those fun catch-phrases "the world is getting smaller" and "the world is flat": as a result of the world shrinking we need it to be smaller and smaller. Our worlds now only exist within the realm of whom we can and cannot immediately see and come into contact with because A.) the internet has made us feel like we can always be in contact with everyone (which is partially true) and B.) we assume that everyone has access to travel because it is so efficient an somewhat affordable (which isn't true). Reason B. is also affected by the internet as we simply psychologically don't see the world as huge and vast and unconquerable anymore.
I started thinking about all of this because I just engaged in one of those old world things, one of those relationships that occurs for one month a year, and yet I know I will not write exquisite, metaphysical love letters to the other person all year, because that concept now seems almost stalker-y pathetic and completely outmoded, even if it isn't. This summer romance was honestly one of the most powerful times in my life and realization of human relationships, and it was only a week. -Another problem with the world shrinking is that time is too. We now unconsciously equate the time spent on something with its value and effect, longer being greater, even though we all know it's not strictly true. The longer you live in a foreign culture the more you adapt to it, but you don't necessarily actually like it more than the place you went for a one week vacation, or even a three night bender for that matter.- I feel emotionally, intellectually, and physically connected with someone I doubt will be a permanent fixture in my life (inasmuch as I doubt I will ever live in the same place as her). This is mostly an issue of circumstance, and an argument could be made to me that I'm romanticizing this relationship because it was short-lived and isolated, but I know that’s not true. No matter how cynical we all get, no matter how few letters we write, we will always have the capacity to feel deeply for people we almost never see. We just won’t think about it that much because of all the people we can see. The result of this is that now I feel like Montaigne or someone, because I feel such a connection and cannot actualize it, which is to say that (also like Montaigne) some of the happiest moments in my life now make me sad. This isn’t because of nostalgia (well, I suppose it must be partially nostalgia) but because I know that they’re meaning will fade into the blue and white headers of Zuckerman productions, a company run by a guy my age (which is also depressing). I guess the only thing to do is spread My-Space, and Facebook and Skype as far and wide as possible, if only so that we can all list our favorite quotes and be amused at them, then saddened by the fact that none of us actually say anything relevant anymore. We now need these things to fill us with the only kind of long distance contact we can still understand: superficial, anti-intellectual drivel. Oh well, I wonder if anyone has posted new photos with me in them?...
Why China is awesome, or, why America isn't America anymore
There are a lot of ways to judge a society. Probably the most famous way is to gauge that society's treatment of its prisoners, and that's pretty good, but I'm going to use a different medium because a.) I have no personal experience of being a prisoner anywhere, and b.) I'm frivolous. But in the case of China, this is great, said country is so mired in debate about prisoner's and what not, and there's so much propaganda from the government that it can be hard to reach a decent conclusion about China and its people. Of course, none of that displays societal values, only governmental ones, which are similar pretty much everywhere. So, what am I looking at instead? Simple: Blues music.
So ok, I know, what the hell does China have to do with the blues? Well, on the surface, probably nothing, but this is why China is awesome: the best blues players I've seen live, possibly ever, are both named cheung. And what's particularly interesting about this is not that they're incredibly good at playing Blues music, but playing the blues. Here's what I mean by that: a lot of hipster four piece bands and rockers that want to get more indy cred try to play some blues. Sometimes this is great, sometimes it's terrible, and the reason why is because some musicians innately understand how the blues are supposed to sound, and they're the ones who are terrible at playing it. Blues music is a category, a sound, it isn't, but could be, relegated to sheet music, and one can very easily learn "blues guitar". But the blues is something else. You don't necesarrily need to be depressed to create it, but you do have to have a desire to sublimate all your worries into music and improvise, like jazz, only sadder. So this is what makes the Cheungs so strange, by now we've all kind of accepted that Chinese people can (or at least can learn to ) do everything technically better than everyone else. Yet this doesn't explain why they can still play the blues more soulfully than anyone I've heard live (except maybe Jesse Malin but he wears mascara). This is even more suprising given that professional musicians occupy the top 1% of Chinese in terms of income, societal ranking, etc. Now, granted, 1% of China is around 13 million people, but you get the idea. So what do these guys have to be blue about? Maybe nothing, maybe these two are anomalies that can suss out what the blues is all about. Or maybe there's more in common with China today and the 1920's Delta/Chicago then we originally thought.
There are some fairly obvious parallels, really. In the 20's the US had just moved to a city/industrial society, as China is doing now, only much much faster. This of course, created, and continues to create, pockets of extreme wealth and extreme poverty, and a lot of busy people in between. It also creates a sort of instantaneous nostalgia, and this is very much a part of what the blues is about. The other big effect of China's rise, and Chicago's a century ago, is that, due to the speed of it, both places get hit pretty hard by Stouffer's theory of Relative Deprivation, which has become part of common knowledge, even though no one knows who Stouffer was. Anyway, Stouffer's theory was that, no matter how well off you are, if you reasonably perceive that your society is depriving you, you become angry/sad/revolutionary. This is why the French revolted in the late 18th century, even though, compared to the rest of Europe, the French bourgeoises and sans culottes were pretty well off. In other words, yes, China is growing in wealth and opportunities, but I have to imagine it would give a Chinese guy the blues to see a guy he went to school with making millions of dollars a year and living on the Peak. Now that could be true of anyone. Everyone is jealous of the rich friend. But remember, this is a completely new phenomenon in China.
But anyway, who knows why these guys play better than Americans, maybe America has just abandoned this type of music in pursuit of something better. And if by better, we get rap, then I was right in the title, China is awesome, and it's more of America than America is.
So ok, I know, what the hell does China have to do with the blues? Well, on the surface, probably nothing, but this is why China is awesome: the best blues players I've seen live, possibly ever, are both named cheung. And what's particularly interesting about this is not that they're incredibly good at playing Blues music, but playing the blues. Here's what I mean by that: a lot of hipster four piece bands and rockers that want to get more indy cred try to play some blues. Sometimes this is great, sometimes it's terrible, and the reason why is because some musicians innately understand how the blues are supposed to sound, and they're the ones who are terrible at playing it. Blues music is a category, a sound, it isn't, but could be, relegated to sheet music, and one can very easily learn "blues guitar". But the blues is something else. You don't necesarrily need to be depressed to create it, but you do have to have a desire to sublimate all your worries into music and improvise, like jazz, only sadder. So this is what makes the Cheungs so strange, by now we've all kind of accepted that Chinese people can (or at least can learn to ) do everything technically better than everyone else. Yet this doesn't explain why they can still play the blues more soulfully than anyone I've heard live (except maybe Jesse Malin but he wears mascara). This is even more suprising given that professional musicians occupy the top 1% of Chinese in terms of income, societal ranking, etc. Now, granted, 1% of China is around 13 million people, but you get the idea. So what do these guys have to be blue about? Maybe nothing, maybe these two are anomalies that can suss out what the blues is all about. Or maybe there's more in common with China today and the 1920's Delta/Chicago then we originally thought.
There are some fairly obvious parallels, really. In the 20's the US had just moved to a city/industrial society, as China is doing now, only much much faster. This of course, created, and continues to create, pockets of extreme wealth and extreme poverty, and a lot of busy people in between. It also creates a sort of instantaneous nostalgia, and this is very much a part of what the blues is about. The other big effect of China's rise, and Chicago's a century ago, is that, due to the speed of it, both places get hit pretty hard by Stouffer's theory of Relative Deprivation, which has become part of common knowledge, even though no one knows who Stouffer was. Anyway, Stouffer's theory was that, no matter how well off you are, if you reasonably perceive that your society is depriving you, you become angry/sad/revolutionary. This is why the French revolted in the late 18th century, even though, compared to the rest of Europe, the French bourgeoises and sans culottes were pretty well off. In other words, yes, China is growing in wealth and opportunities, but I have to imagine it would give a Chinese guy the blues to see a guy he went to school with making millions of dollars a year and living on the Peak. Now that could be true of anyone. Everyone is jealous of the rich friend. But remember, this is a completely new phenomenon in China.
But anyway, who knows why these guys play better than Americans, maybe America has just abandoned this type of music in pursuit of something better. And if by better, we get rap, then I was right in the title, China is awesome, and it's more of America than America is.
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