"The Only Moment We Were Alone" - Explosions in the Sky (live)
Working on putting together the new issue of Bright Wall/Dark Room, currently knee-deep in a gorgeous essay on Friday Night Lights by Erica, and basically have to be listening to Explosions in the Sky while doing so.
What a song this is. Says everything, without a single word.
Your job seems normal now. In 15 years, when someone tells you they’re a simplicity expert or a robot counselor, you won’t blink an eye.
All of the predictions we’ve seen lately regarding the “jobs of the future” assume that we’ll even have jobs once the robots take over. Eventually, we may not. But in the medium-term future, there will still be jobs for the taking (including jobs overseeing robots).
The Canadian Scholarship Trust teamed up with futurists to imagine a job fair in 2030, with predictions based on the environmental, social, technological, and social trends happening now. Here are some of the jobs they came up with.
I saw this couple last night in Bryant Park and asked them if I could snap their photo. After showing them the results, I sat down for a chat. The first leaves were shaking themselves off the trees in the strong breeze and I asked what the occasion for their picturesque picnic was figuring an anniversary or birthday. The man put his cards down and smiled at me saying, "I have been married to the best girl in the world for 30 years, I am doing my best to make sure she knows that."
These pieces are pages 335-343 in Poetrymagazine, July/August 2013
Walk on the Wild Side, 2013, gouache, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 8 x 10 in. Looking for Soul Food, 2013, gouache, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 6 x 8 in. Lady Eyebrows, 2013, gouache, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 6 x 8 in. Kid Apollo, 2013, gouache, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 6 x 8 in. Kid Hustle, 2013, gouche, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 7 x 9 in. Candy Came, from Out on the Island, 2013, gouache, ink, watercolor, and paper ephemera, 7 x 9 in.
Marsha “Pay it No Mind” Johnson was a Greenwich Village artists from the 1960s to 1990s. Her legacy is grounded in her compassion for the trans community and her dedication to LGBT visibility and equality. Marsha worked alongside Sylvia Rivera, co-founding the organization Street Transgender Action Revolutionaries (STAR) and the STAR House to provide resources to and advocate for disadvantaged young trans women and drag queens. Marsha was one of numerous trans advocates involved in the Stonewall riots of 1969. Despite such contribution to the historic events, many gay groups of the era excluded the trans community from their efforts, which left Marsha both frustrated with the state of the movement and further determined to work on behalf of her trans peers.
Cult film director John Waters decided to hitchhike across the country and then write a book about it. That book is called Carsick, and he joins Fresh Air to share some of his stories. In the interview he and Terry talk about what makes a good [and bad] hitchhiking sign, creepy highway motels, and the etiquette of turning down rides:
"In real life when you’re out there, as I said — I would’ve gotten in [with] Ted Bundy in his Volkswagen with his arm in his sling, in the front seat. You’ll get in any car, believe me. All your rules, all your things that you imagine, go out the window when you’ve been standing there for 10 years and those Kansas winds are ripping your weather-beaten face.
It is the worst beauty regimen ever to hitchhike. I would go in the motels at night and look in the mirror. And I have in my office a little mirror, a hand mirror that I got from a joke shop where you pick it up and look at yourself and it screams. Well, that’s what every mirror did when I hitchhiked across America. It let out a shriek of horror when they saw [my] hitchhiking face — a new thing that I want to invent a product for.”
It’s 8 o’clock on a crisp Greenland evening. The air tastes like a fresh bubbling spring, the result of the steady gusts of wind blowing over the nearby glacier, my guide explains. A puff of diesel pollutes my senses as we bounce our way over this jagged landscape of rock and ice on an ATV. The small hunting village of Ittoqqortoormiit is on Greenland’s northeast coast. The 477 Inuits who call this territory home live in isolation and relative peace. But today we’re on the look-out for an unlikely predator.
"They come very early in the morning and very late at night," my guide Erling Madsen shouts over the engine and the waves of Walrus Bay crashing against a 50-foot cliff two feet from where our wheels grind earth. We’re heading to where that predator was first spotted. "A hunter called me. He saw it heading into town," Madsen said, his rifle strapped to my back as I hold on tightly to his shoulders.
Ittoqqortoormiit is one of the most remote villages in the Western Hemisphere. Not a single road connects the community to the rest of the world. Only a bumpy helicopter ride in and out once a week takes visitors to a world where seal fur and musk ox meat are popular forms of currency. Global trends have filtered through over the years, but usually after the rest of the world has moved on. Justin Bieber’s “Baby” is a current favorite among the village’s small teen population.
When it comes to climate change, however, there is a new world order and Ittoqqortoormiit is on the frontlines. Earlier this year scientists reported that the U.S. climate has changed as a result of global warming. “Summers are longer and hotter… Winters are generally shorter and warmer,” the report explained. This is old news to a town that straddles Greenland’s ice sheet—or what scientists call ground zero for climate change.
"We have a front row seat," said Madsen as we disembarked from our ATV. Madsen used to be the mayor of this northeastern territory, but today he acts like a sheriff. "Those are his tracks," he says pointing to depressions in the ground. The threat? Polar bears.