February 8, 2020
Shawn Colvin is a treasure--few people crystalize beauty and the agony of futile alienation better than she does. A relentless optimist burdened by the tragic detritus of a life lived clearly on the fringe, she tosses out phrases like the one I stole for this headline as effortlessly as she can traverse her three-octave range. And every time she does, it hits a nerve of reflection for me.
This week, especially. In the past seven days, the following has happened;
Most importantly, we weren't angry.
But that's no longer the reality we live in. With unlimited wealth and access to instant "information," we've gone off the rails. The technology that was supposed to bring us together has Balkanized us into a multidimensional place of micro-tribal warfare where minute differences are seen as major transgressions. Vegan vs. omnivores, Alt Right vs every non-white. Dodger fans vs Giant fans. Our differences used to make us interesting, but now they can end up with lethal consequences. Loneliness is rampant as is a growing suicide rate across the US demographic spectrum. We wanted to shed the gatekeepers as an intellectual matter, but as a practical matter, the constraints to bad behavior are only as strong as we honor them. And in this demagogic, fear-based climate, all bets are off. We have avatars and pseudonyms that enable us to say things that no one would say under their real names or face-to-face.
So at the risk of contradicting 25 years of fostering launching and promoting new technologies, I think we should shut it down. All of it. And if that's not possible, regulate Facebook, Google, Amazon and Apple into the tightest regulatory scheme ever conceived. After all they're media without liability. They're the proverbial "Fire!" in the theater without acknowledging that their theaters hold billions of people. They've become cesspools of hatred and fraud without contrition or concern that what they do can have catastrophic impact on people's lives, their political systems and livelihoods.
When Roger Maris smacked number 61 over the fence, we lived in a world where everything was possible, no matter how humble your beginnings or who you were. The astounding technical capabilities we now have come at a terrible price. That of decency and spirit. Because at the end of it, technology has no goals other than self-actualization and maximization of efficiency. Apparently, neither do we.
It is impossible to process the torrent of cataclysmic events the past 24-48 hours and it just keeps coming:
Climate holocaust. A prelude to potential nuclear conflict. Corruption at the highest levels. Overthrow of our Constitution and rule of law. It's today's Four Horseman, tomorrow's will be different. Soul sick. Welcomed to the Roaring 20s.
Happy New Year!
Reporting live from the left end of the universe... About two years ago, I got recruited by a global tech company to come onboard to lead their worldwide consumer marketing effort. Flattered beyond belief, stunned such an amazing opportunity would be offered to someone clearly careening towards his dotage and presenting yet another wardrobe change in a life that can be best characterized as chameleonic, I considered the offer for about 45 seconds and moved up to Silicon Valley.
For the record, I knew the company well and as a consultant/brand guy, had done ton of business in the Valley for decades. Yet despite the successes and high level accesses these projects produced, never quite felt that I was part of it. You know, that statement I always get backwards: "Being in it, not of it." Or is it, "Being of it, not in it?" I chalked it up to geography, being from the dreaded SoCal working in NorCal. Yes, there is a blood hatred for SoCal in the North, especially Hollywood. It's a fact. I never understood it and a few years ago, asked a veteran Silicon Valley CEO/VC to explain it to me. He said it like this (paraphrasing):
"Hollywood and Silicon Valley hate each other because ultimately, they're the same. In the Valley, two guys and Labrador work in garage, create some code, get financing, pound on a business to get to an IPO. They get to liquidity, divorce the wife, buy a boat. They'll wait a couple of years and do it again. In LA, two guys and Labrador write a script, recruit a director and a star, get financing, make the picture, make millions, divorce the wife and buy a boat. They wait a couple of years and do it again. One is academically sophisticated and covert. The other is culturally outlandish and overt. Problem is when they meet each other, they realize they're the same guys don't like what they see. The hyper-smart Valley guys think they're more pure because of the complexity of the work, but they really covet that Telsa and Panerai; the hip LA guys realize they're not cooler than the nerds in the Valley, just better dressed."
Interesting theory. Either way, the net is trillions of technology-shifting, culture-shaping dollars that flow like a torrent throughout the state of California, onto its bless-ed residents and into every nook and cranny of the civilized and soon-to-be-civilized world. With so much influence, raw capability and resources, one would expect that no problem on any scale would be insurmountable given proper focus. And you would be wrong. That because Californians for the most part, South and North, live in a cornucopia of complacency and choices without any need to sacrifice one scintilla of anything anyone has. In affluent CA, we firmly believe we have earned the right to be trivial.
Which is why at least in NorCal, it is almost impossible not to trip over someone's value system, no matter what you say or how benign your intent might be. For the record, you can find a lot of the same people in SoCal. Maybe it's geographic dispersal or people in LA have more of a sense of humor, it's just not the same. To wit:
Wear an Eddie Bauer jacket into a store in Los Gatos and you'll get the stink eye because 1) Eddie Bauer does not use environmentally pure materials and worse, 2) EB Corp. might have contributed to Trump's campaign. Up here it's Patagonia or nothing.
Ordering beef in a restaurant from a server who happens to be vegan can cause life-changing trauma--as my wife found out when she misread a caligraphied menu item The server almost went into convulsions when she heard the words, "I'll have the beef tartare" instead of the written "beet tartare." We weren't sure whether she was hospitalized or would return to our table.
It's doctrinaire that dogs are higher-level sentient beings sent from God to purify mankind. I love my dog, but I'm 100-percent certain she's not on a mission to save my soul.
Unlike every other city in the world where pedestrians are vigilant about traffic, pedestrians up here have no compunctions about creating multiple rear-end collisions by blithely stepping out into a crosswalk into active traffic. No, there aren't force fields that protect them or cars from banging into each other. When Kyle and Krissie step in front of moving traffic, they're complacent that because the law is on their side, nothing can happen to them, and because the laws of physics and the varied limitations of human reaction times are subservient to their God-given right to cross any street, any time..
It goes on and on, and it can be great fun to muse about interspecies issues like whether Pete the Duck in the Los Gatos antique store that posts the sign in the photo above has the right to discriminate against certain animals' access to retail, but the downside is deadly serious.
Our planet (and this state) is on fire and things are just beginning to literally heat up. We have emerging fascism in DC, and if not that, a concerted effort by the GOP to dismantle and delegitimize the rule of law and our Constitution. We are witnessing the biggest theft in human history in the transfer of public funds like Medicare and Social Security into an emerging US oligarchy. We have a president who is owned lock, stock and Pompador by a foreign enemy. This is not conspiracy theory, it's the leitmotif of the past three years. And yet the most socially aware, best educated, and most affluent people in the world are noisily engaged in smug purity tests. Depending upon who you talk to, depending on the location and context, "Go Pete" up here in the Valley could pertain as much to a duck as a potential presidential candidate. We need voices, coordinated, serious, unified and committed to overcome the inertia of the global holocaust that is potentially upon us. The days of worrying about where goose down comes from are a luxury we can't afford, especially when a good portion of the continent of Australia and 100s of million of animals and forested acres are perishing by the week in an out-of-control inferno. What happens when Silicon Valley and the Santa Cruz Mountains have a month of +48C days and no rain for 9 months? Anyone worried now about Pete the Duck?
It's a bit of conceit among the "educated left" that, "We're on the right side of history." Gender, racial and income equality. The Green New Deal. Voting rights. Community action. All these things are laudable in the context of a healthy planet, capitalist economy and an orderly set of interdependent international relationships. But in the face of a global, inevitable existential climate event, are they even remotely appropriate? Is democratic action the best way to forge through a crisis of unprecedented magnitude? Or will the slow wheels of compromise and consensus grind us to a pulp as our inability to act decisively brings the world as we know it to an end?
A couple of perhaps unrelated, even crackpot conspiratorial, observations: When W took over in January, 2001, there were "secret" meetings between the Bush Administration and the heads of the energy industry, the substance of which has never been revealed. The policies that came out of that meeting broke considerably from predecessor policies and the arc of history. They made little sense other than when seen purely through the lens of greed and power. The liberals among us (myself included) assumed nefarious motives and a sweetheart deal to fatten the oil barons and corporate elite. We weren't wrong. They definitely got fat. So did the military and its contractors. But what if that windfall was the byproduct of something much bigger? What if you just took the reins of power and learned definitively, that it was too late for globally scaled energy transformation, that climate change was so far advanced there was little to do in the short-term but minimize the carnage to come. You might behave as Bush and Cheney did.
First, you would try to extend the inevitable energy shortage for as long as possible by Increasing/securing supply (invade Iraq, initiate fracking anywhere and everywhere). The second thing you would do is create a lifeboat for the wealthy--the ones most able to survive, through tax breaks and sweetheart financial deals. The third thing you would do would be to weaken Constitutional protections. This is the most pernicious part--in a true climate crisis, people are going to have to be moved and categorized for their survival. Our rights will need to be eliminated for the "common good." I can't believe what I'm writing here and it's positively Hitlerian. But in the context of an extinction-level event, not all of us are going to make it and someone is going to make choices. I pray I'm dead wrong, but we may look back and see that Bush set the table, Trump's band of merry fascists have sat down to dinner to feast on our Constitution and the rights that it confers -- not because any of this matters to him, but because it's even easier to fill his wallet with our money. Either way the arc of history seems to be bending in an anti-Democratic direction
In order to survive the next 50 years, and perhaps as a species, we going to need highly centralized action. Political movements, and ironically technology, are trending this way. Democracy is under fire nearly everywhere. In the US, in Europe, in Asia and India as populations become more restive and hammer-locked governments fail to meet the needs of their citizens. Strongmen are ascendant as people clamor for concrete solutions, no matter the social cost. Technology has converged into FAANG--five companies, all propelled by massive data that in turn will be sliced and diced into AI-driven decision engines. It's not too much of a stretch to envision a future where AI proscribes which products you can buy and at what price. Which medicines you're allowed to take and how much exercise you must have to retain your insurance policy or qualify for government health care. AI will determine where you can live so the community can equalize the strain on the supporting systems like food, water, education and transportation. It's not too much of a stretch to envision AI elections, where Big Data fields candidates for public affirmation, not voting as we know it now. These candidates will have been vetted based on their abilities to meet the priorities AI identifies in our society. It will be based on cold efficiency not on party, celebrity, likability or any of the other quaint parameters we use now to determine our leadership. This pursuit of efficiency will overrule everything else. Not because we want it that way, but because we have no choice.
If the scenario laid out here is remotely true, Democracy as it has existed for the past 250+ years, sadly and ultimately won't work. It's too slow, too cumbersome and vague to meet the needs of the challenges ahead. So when we claim that we're on the right side of history, we might think again.
This month, May, 2019, the UN is going to release a companion study to its harrowing global climate change study, in which a group of hundreds of climatologists memorialized the obvious. Unless there is a universal and immediate cessation of our carbon-based economy, we'll broil ourselves out of existence by as early as 2100. Bad enough. Worse, is the that report to come chronicles the end of nature. Literally. Let that roll around in your heads. The end of nature.
Not that anyone should be surprised. Thanks to endless technological advances and our unparalleled ability to create viable worlds completely detached and disconnected from natural forces, we've acted like an incurable virus on the Body Planet. It's not just fossil fuel or carbon. It's the fundamentals of how exist as humans as clear pathogens to this planet. Sealed off by wood and stucco. Getting water out of a tap, meat from under plastic and vegetables from a bin--we're completely disconnected from supply, process and demand. Looking at cities and towns from a jetliner, it's not too hard to abstract them into fever blisters on a verdant body--and they're expanding and metastasizing at a record rate. Bigger is better, more is better--it's in our DNA. The fact that we've devolved into nothing but a consumer species says it all.
Dahr Jamail is a well respected war correspondent, who chronicled the climate crisis as if it were a live war zone in his book, The End of Ice. He offered this summary in a recent interview,
“A willingness to live without hope allows me to accept the heartbreaking truth of our situation, however calamitous it is. Grieving for what is happening to the planet also now brings me gratitude for the smallest, most mundane things,” Jamail explains. “I have found that it’s possible to reach a place of acceptance and inner peace, while enduring the grief and suffering that are inevitable as the biosphere declines.”
Good for Dahr. Seriously. But I haven't.
I'm still raging and working through a deep despair that is at the core of my work these days. It's nothing new for me. When I was 7 years old, I saw photos of whales being slaughtered on whaling vessels and was so horrified, I wrote a letter to complain to President Kennedy (yup, I'm old) and got a vapid response back. This sounds so NorCal, airy-fairy, but I've had a deep, profound and specific connection to nature for as along as I've been a conscious being. Which is painfully ironic given that professionally I've been central to launching all kinds of new technologies that eat valuable resources and reinforce our hostility and otherness to the natural world. Satellite TV. Computers. VCRs. Audio. Digital movies. Video games. The DVD platform. Cable & TV networks. Portable storage and hard drives. E-commerce platforms. AI and VR technologies and platforms. My garage is a veritable museum of evolutionary media technologies. Mea culpa.
As I watch personal technology and social media rip through the fabric of our morality and norms; watch people obliviously walk into oncoming traffic and walls with j-shaped, white headsets dribbling out of their ears; listen to billionaire heads of social platforms blink in stunned wonder as to how their global "town square" could be possibly co-opted by bad people for their own ends; and cringe as a two-bit, obvious carnival con Tweets himself into a potential dictatorship of "the shining city on a hill," the disconnect becomes even more clear. Technology circles the globe with the equivalent of capillaries, arteries and veins, but it has no blood. It has rigid algorithmic structures that are built exclusively on binary declarations of on-off, pass-fail, good-evil, but it has no bones. There's no life within, only a relentless metabolism of eyeless and impulsive public expression and runaway commercial sales.
Given my past and present, I'm by no means a Luddite nor is this an apology. In the grand scheme of things, I'm not that important and others have and would have gleefully done the work I did. But it has animated a compulsion to express how I feel about it.
Which is what "Fraught" is ultimately all about. It's about the distortion of technology and our "humanness" us and on the world. I wrote previously that I'm "stuck in ugly" in my work--as much as I'd love to photograph a serenely placid lake, I'm not drawn to it. These are ugly times. And I feel like I'm running out of runway and that I can't stand in the way of this avalanche of feelings that's roaring through me at the moment. If not now, when? If not me, whom?
At the end of the day, my work points to aberration. We don't seem to belong here. Nothing we do or value seems to comport with the values of nature. We crave the naturally impossible. There is no symmetry in nature. No straight lines. Yet we proclaim symmetrical faces and designs as beautiful and create structures that are rigidly line-straight and at right-angles to each other. We have no natural limitation on quantities or balance. We'll take everything we can get every time, and not leave anything for anyone or anything else. We kill for sport or for no reason at all--others have written about these things more forcefully and specifically than I possibly can. We might have 99% of our DNA in common with Chimps and even dogs. But our brains are profoundly different, and so is our behavior.
"Fraught" rips the masks off, and shows the tension. Bleak? Yep. Misanthropic? Maybe. But perhaps there's some redemption in this, some way to connect cause and effect and at least raise some awareness that will let our "better angels" take flight. If we have them...
I'm not sure why this hit me so hard, but it's one of the saddest statements I've read in this years-long parade of sad and dispiriting statements. It's from an article entitled "New Kids on Block," from the January 21, 2019 issue of Ad Age, whereby the author outlines the hot, new demographic for advertisers: Kids born between 2010 and eventually through 2025. That is, if we're not annihilated by a Trump wag-the-dog war or an environmental holocaust.
The article extolls the virtues of "Generation Alpha" (the irony being in the name of what we learn is likely to be best educated, but the most self-centered, insular, and material generation in history). In other words an advertiser's dream and a societal nightmare. We learn that what Alpha kids (first among equals, ahem) really want is stuff and notoriety. Fitbits, Alexa devices, tablets, phones--if it glows, talks and has animations, they want it. Right now. But wait, there's more.
Ryan, an 8-year old boy from Texas runs Ryan ToysReview, a YouTube channel that attracts 18 million followers and garnered him and his family a cool $22 million last year. He's been an online toy influencer since he was 4. If you thought Macaulay Culkin was a casualty of his early fame, watch what happens to little Ryan when his voice deepens, the world moves on from his ToysReview and he isn't cool any more. Ryan is hardly alone. Ad Age profiles almost a dozen similar YouTube stars who have millions of followers and have yet to celebrate their 10th birthdays.
Who can blame them or their parents for imbuing these values? What's the difference between Gen Alphas goals and values and that of our current president and a generation of athletes and Hip Hop artists? In a society where it's nearly impossible not to see someone on a phone in every public place, why would anyone think that alternative, non-technology based behaviors would be encouraged? It's hard to point to one causal factor when there are so many and they are so persistently obvious in our culture. Instant, global omnidirectional media, technologies, runaway wealth, sociopathic leaders in politics and business, celebrity worship, denial of laws and tradition, lack of contextual education and the ability to deliver immediate gratification for any and all desires, right now, anywhere in the world.
I've worked with cutting edge technology companies and tech visionaries longer than I'm going to admit. And to a person, not one of them initially started their company or invented their technologies for the money. The ones that were successful did so out of a sincere desire to improve peoples' lives. The ones that did it to make a killing almost always died on the vine. So it's cruel proof that the road to hell truly is paved with the best of intentions. Because of the massive proliferation of life-changing technologies, all aimed at making us better, more connected and compassionate humans, kids out there are bored by the pure joy of playing with a dog. Fido just can't compete. Pundits say if the trend toward technological dependence continues, we're going to lose our connection with the natural world. Wrong tense of the verb. If Ad Age is right, we've lost that connection with little hope of ever redeeming it.
Would love to spread some holiday cheer at this time of year, but that would be seriously delusional. Perhaps mankind has always lived at the brink of disaster. After all, that's when we seem to be at our best, most magnanimous and creative. But given the seemingly hourly emergence of worldwide cataclysmic events the past few weeks, one can't help but be at least gloomy, if not outright terrified.
We're at a definite pivot point where the ties that bind are unknotted, and common decency and community values are replaced by a hollow mindlessness. Ignorance, and the fear and rage it produces, have been unleashed on every living species (there are 50% fewer of them than there were in the 70s). Somehow, we slog through, unconscious of the garbage (literal and otherwise) we spew, and the very clear consequences that are being visited upon us every waking minute.
For a decade or more, I've been thinking that the explosion in digital technology is far more profound than creating new ways to work and entertain ourselves. I've often thought it is was a biological adaptation to climate change--a deep response to an increasingly hostile biological environment that would demand that we would need to be less physical, less consumptive and differently connected than ever before. Just as birds know when and where to fly to avoid a harsh winter, we somehow know that in order for us to survive the increasingly toxic environment we're creating for ourselves we need to morph into something different.
Setting singularity aside, we seem to be on our way. The Internet took about 10 years to reach global critical mass. By comparison, simpler improvements in technology like color television took 35 years to reach 70% US adoption and CD's took about 30 years to replace vinyl. Think about it. The internet was and still can be a complicated, expensive and unsatisfactory experience. In its initial days, you needed a PC, dedicated modem phone line, an ISP subscription, all for a balky pseudo-static TV-lite experience that continually crashed. No way this would have survived as a pure commercial gadget or new entertainment technology unless something deeper was operating. As crappy an experience as CompuServe and AOL were, they and others like them, stormed the globe like wildfire. Why?
My take is that the Internet is the antibody to an increasing virulent and toxic natural world. It eliminates physicality--just ask printers, book publishers, musical instrument makers, bricks and mortar retailers, bankers, you name it. It eliminates geographical distance. Companies in the US compete for contracts in Brazil with companies in Romania and Taiwan. The web distributes and flattens expertise. Everyone knows everything--or can find out within a couple of clicks. There is no premium for exclusivity, because if something can be digitized, it's no longer yours, it's everyone's. Including your privacy and most intimate moments. Finally, it's an ongoing, perpetual process--we're archiving ourselves 24/7 with every key stroke.
Again, why? Because we know on a profoundly deep subconscious level that without profound change, human life (and tragically, our plant and animal friends) are not viable in their current state. I can think of no better explanation for the inexplicable times we're living in. The emergence of shrieking nationalism and religious zealotry is on the fight side of the pendulum; the rapid adoption of text messaging, Instagram and new digital vocabularies that are replacing body language and the written word are on the flight side. I'm admittedly freewheeling and academically way over my skis here, but the trend is compelling and hard to miss.
If history is any predictor, this change ultimately will be breathtakingly rapid and likely bloody. If the US Government's recent climate report is at all accurate, we have about 20 years before things really hit the fan, with no consensus or political will to begin to effective tackle the myriad challenges we're facing. Which leaves us with the Trump Circus, Kardashians, kittens and the Darwin Awards--of which all of us seem to be viable, yet unwitting contestants. Happy New Year!
John Oliver got this right last week: "When fake groups hire fake experts and fake crowds to shape the outcome of real events, it can cause real damage."
He wasn't talking about the "fake news" meme, and at the time of the taping, Reality TV star, Omorosa's SCUD missiles hadn't hit their mark at the West Wing. He was talking about Astroturfing, which is a form of live trolling that is effective in building fake public support for causes that the real public usually doesn't want. Astroturfing is a kind of propaganda led by phony special interest groups stood up by unseen corporate interests, "experts" who are actors paid to read specific talk points, and fake crowds which are hired, wardrobed and rehearsed to look like concerned citizens who support a given cause. The worst part is that it actually works. It shapes city ordinances, pushes bills through legislatures, gives tax breaks to the powerful and is yet another polarizing force that sets us against each other.
Astroturfing works because it gives us a sense of belonging and fuels our outrage against "the other." We want to believe. We seem to have a collective itch that only public adulation and constant acknowledgement can scratch, which makes us vulnerable to every con that comes down the pike. Narcissism, vanity, and self-interest have always been a nasty part of the human condition and probably existed when we lived in caves. But amplified by second-by-second universal, free access to a global audience, these are the only things that seem to matter, so we're an easy mark, easily stampeded. Which partially explains why we have the leadership we have in D.C.
Those of us who are following our politics minute-by-minute are living on the knife edge of a helpless cognitive dissonance. It's excruciating. I can't turn it off because I have to stay vigilant and aware. It's the most patriotic thing I think I can do--stay aware, be informed, and try to be a force against the institutional gaslighting that turns black to white, freedom to slavery, and peace to war--which left unchecked, could ultimately result in another civil war or turn America into the next "shithole country."
At the same time, it's poisoning my art, my photography and my general outlook on life. My series, "Fraught" was so-named because of it represented what I saw as the collective anxieties of others confronting the subconsciously stressful situation of air travel. Turns out, it's not my subjects that are fraught these days. It's me.
Whereas the original set of images flowed from an organic, authentic place, the ones I've developed over the past 18 months are much more tortured and difficult. They can't seem to be nasty enough. They're artificial and contrived, not because they contain a hard truth, but because I don't think they're finished until they're truly monstrous. Before, I knew when to stop and when the story was complete. Now an image isn't done until it's uncomfortable and horrifying.
I've never shot for peaceful beauty--that's not in my DNA. I've sought some glimmer of human truth in everything I've tried to do, which means my work is among the least likely to end up in a dentist's office (nothing wrong with beautiful, calm images, BTW!). But if my images are the mirror to my soul, I need different input, not just a vector to my mounting rage and sorrow for where we seem to be headed.
I'm stuck in ugly.
So I'm swearing off "he who shall not be named" for a while. I'll stay vigilant, but I'm done writing even tangentially about him and the effect he's had on the decline of our experiment in democracy. Not that he cares or will miss it. He gets enough ink, after all. My bet is that when Mueller and the NY District Attorney's office get close to his money, which they inevitably will, he'll declare his presidency, "the best in American History" and resign. He'll take his "base," which is essentially a target audience of about 10 million fools and fascists, ring up his buddy, Steve Bannon and start the most noxious media network since Goebbels and Leni Riefenstahl. Then it's truly "game on," and I'll have to hit the streets again.
Until then, I just can't.
Ten dead in Texas today. Shock. Grief. Outrage. The handwringing sanctimony, sobbing parents and the earnest pleadings of jowly law enforcement officials will fade into the gauzy glaze of Harry and Meghan. It won't last 36 hours. And the sickness of whateverthefuck America has become will just shrug and wait for the next dozen kids to be gunned down in their US History Class or 3rd Period Geometry. If you talk to these kids as I did at the March for Life in San Francisco a couple of months ago, you'll find out that "live shooter" drills are as much of a fact of life as their Instagram pages. They're certain it's going to happen to them. They'll even tell you they have some probable suspects. The guy who's just not right, who no one really knows or wants to know. "It's a matter of time," they'll tell you. Helluva a way to grow up.
I recently worked for a marketing firm headquartered in Las Vegas, and was at a company meeting about 10-12 days after the shooting on the Strip that killed and injured hundreds of concert goers, their final moments spent enjoying a breezy evening listening to their country music favorites. I remember that night last October. What you heard first were the horrendous numbers. Then body camera and iPhone footage of people scrambling over bodies, not sure which way the bullets were coming or which escape route was safe. The footage of the hospitals and shaken reporters who had no words for the horror they'd seen. Then the analysis, the experts, and finally the decline into the entropy of the gun issue: Nothing will happen. Owning firepower is a God-given right. It's the price of freedom. Shit happens--bar your doors and get a gun so you can be the one of the good guys the next time. It's become as formulaic as episodes of The Batchelor.
Except that in real-time, human reality, it isn't. I went to the memorial on the Strip to pay my respects. A woman was there who visited her friend's marker three times a day. It was nearly two weeks after the tragedy but her wailing anguish was as fresh as the day she first heard about it. There are no words. The shooter was more than a 1/4 mile away from his victims. He shot from the Mandalay Bay, over Las Vegas Blvd. into a crowd of thousands. It's impossible to fathom how powerful his weapons were and how incomprehensible this whole event was until you stand there, look up at the hotel and see the sheer distance between the shooter's window and the killing field. There are no words.
No sane person standing on the corner of Las Vegas Blvd. and Hacienda Avenue, seeing how much distance there was between crime and perpetrator, can rationalize the legality of weapons of that capability. No one. No sane person can rationalize looking through the sight of a semiautomatic weapon at 6-year olds and pulling the trigger. Yet these atrocities are normalized--not just by NRA money--but by us. Because as socially and intellectually aware as we might be, as much as we might march and protest, we still accept the narrative and the mini-series of tragedy every time this happens. There needs to be deeper connection than text and Tweet, than marathon coverage on CNN. There needs to be an angry rejection of thoughts and prayers over events that are 100% avoidable. Change has to happen one person at a time. Until we pull our heads away from the screen, even for a few moments a day, and have real conversations with real humans in real time over issues that really matter, there will continue to be fewer of us.