Good Morning. Hello. How are you? #1537
Nazi citizen journals as an insight to our condition, Game of Thrones re-watch, plagiarism ruminations
Hello hello hello. Greetings from my basement again. Boy I sure love quarantines. How long am I going to do this, this time, I wonder. Once again I find myself wondering if “symptoms” include just being tired. For I have no other symptoms at this point. Or maybe I do, but they are substantially lessened, I feel better than I have in a week. My temperature is in the 97s. Maybe I still have a little tingle in the back of my throat. My chest feels glorious. Clear and empty of free radicals. Which Bond movie was that again? The one with the “eliminate all free radicals” gag? I thought that was so funny as a kid.
Yet nonetheless, alas, I sit in this basement for another day. Not a lot new in my life. So what can I tell you, my brother, my killer. What can I possibly say? What new things have happened while sitting here.
Hrm you know, that reminds me. I dimly remember some plagiarism scandal (hard word to spell, “plagiarism”) from my teenage years, and it had a racial tinge to it. As in it was some white people accusing a famous black person of plagiarism. And I remember someone sticking up for the accused — in my head it was either Bono or Murakami but man I do not remember the details of any of this, that is not the point.
The point is they explained the oral tradition of black preachers. This is leading me to believe maybe it was MLK, the accused. Was he accused of plagiarism in the early 90’s? Anyway it explained to my sheltered brain about the distinctions between allusion and plaigiarism and how its all about the audience. And how you can say something to one audience, and they know exactly to what you are referring, and it is not plaigiarism, it is a knowing nod, a bonding moment, a moment of understanding and eureka between the orator (or writer) and the audience.
And you know, that thing stuck with me. I mean not enough to remember who the accused plaigarist was, or the defender, but the main point: of allusion and knowing nod.
And, you may have noticed, I do that all the time here in GMHHAY.
BUT IT IS A PROBLEM! I mean, even in our little group, it cannot be 100% certain that you all know the lyrics to Leonard Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat” and draw the comparison of the letter-writing format of the song and these missives.
But it’s so satisfying when you are one of those people, to read a little passage that you recognize, a secret language.
But of course some day someone could read this, recognize the quote and my utter lack of attribution and assume I intended for it to be passed off as mine: to miss the entire interplay, the entire channel of communication between me and the reader, that of fun knowing nods, eurekas, secret languages, and subtle dada gags.
So, you know. In a hundred years, if GMHHAY is widely appreciated by the masses as the definitive document of our times — an incredibly rare possibility that basically animates my existence, not gonna lie — I would prefer they did not, you know, have some giant debate about whether the allusions herein are plagiarism.
Not unrelatedly: Twelve years ago now (!) I wrote A Proposed Taxonomy of Plagiarism. It mostly holds up!
Hadn’t read it in a while. It is poorly written: maybe my editor Lisa was on to something when she told me recently my writing has improved. Wow that idea will carry me through this whole day. I know in theory all this writing every day should make me a better writer but you don’t feel such things, do you.
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We are today still working on clearing out our “To Investigate” playlist. We have 49 hours left. I have been trying to get through ten hours a day but it is hard. Sicne “the day” is only a little over eight hours. Before I turn off one set of lights, turn on another, and move three feet to a different chair and have “evening time” alone in my quarantine basement. I made it the last two days but I do not foresee making it again today. We are in a shoegaze batch right now, so many good songs, excellent bands I don’t really know: Flatwaves, Radio Anorak, Rat Palace, Cosmic Thoughts. Just listened to the last Raveonettes record man they are so good. Bands that just stay consistently good for, like, 20, 30 years, long after they last have a hit album. I have such deep respect for bands like that. Raveonettes are one of them. They do not get enough credit.
Been re-watching Game of Thrones here in my quarantine cave. I do not know why. I am sort of compelled. And, painfully, I am mostly compelled to re-watch the later seasons. But it is a show that’s basically impossible to drop into because you can’t remember anything, so I am starting at the beginning. I did this once before and I did not get very far. But I have made it through the first season, old Ned has bought it. Man, that guy. What a fucking idiot. I do not feel the sympathy for him I felt the first time around. He really steps into it. Over and over. I guess maybe he does not understand the depths of the Lannisters’ treachery but boy he goes to great lengths to ignore all the warning signs of it. I love the guy, but, cmon man.
I find myself fascinated with George’s lack of delivery of this last book. I mean, I never read the books. Sometimes I think about doing it but I just can’t bring myself to, I don’t care enough. But I find it fascinating, this pickle he is in. I hope desperately he is documenting the pickle, or conversing with someone, confessing to someone. I hope he has a confident or, dare I wish it, a documentarian keeping tabs on this epic journey, struggle or lack thereof. I want to watch some four-part HBO special a la the recent Pee Wee special in, like, ten years about this whole journey of his.
I’ve also been watching this German documentary series on Youtube, three hours long, about the journals of citizens of the Nazi empire. This is, as you may recall, a fascination of mine, and basically an animating principle of GMHHAY.
I watch these documentaries, read these journals of these plebeian citizens of Nazi Germany and at least, I smugly think, I did more than them. I knew this was wrong sooner than they did. Mostly. There are a few real heroes in there, a few truly farsighted. But better than most. I give myself, and most of you guys, a B+.
This particular dive into this branch of history has been inspired by El Akkad’s One Day Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. He does make some efforts at saying what we, as normal citizens, can do to resist and fight these horrors perpetuated in our name. But mostly he talks about dropping out. It is left vague how “dropped out” he thinks we should be, or wishes he could be. It flows from the discussions of boycotts and the capitalist systems’ indignity at these boycotts such as BDS. And how, ultimately, every dollar we spend supports a system we do not support.
He is, of course, correct. Yet there is a feeling in his writing that he is proposing, or hinting at, or dreaming of dropping out more. And I think we all have been there: stop this society I want to get off. But of course, when the rubber meets the road, what does that mean logistically, tactically, concretely? Do we all have it in us to be hermits in the woods? Would that even accomplish it? No, it would not. Your internet would come from Elon Musk or that fucker who won’t release Supergirl, your seeds would come from some conglomerate, your farm tools would come from the same companies killing children in Gaza. The Good Place rules.
No, for most of us, for one reason or another (parents, school, religion, medical facilities) we are forced to live in this world. We are forced to live in a society against which we mentally rebel constantly. Unceasingly. Maybe not every single aspect, but a good chunk of it.
And, of course, assuming someday the world survives all of this and becomes the place we all dream of, we can only assume there will be people living then, wondering of us: how did they do it? What did they think? Were all of them for these things done in their name?
And I am here to say NO NO NO. We were not for it. We just don’t know what to do! We are helpless! Ok ok. Not completely helpless. We all do what we can, here and there. Helping in our community and helping nationally, voting the right way, agitating to the level we can. Donate donate donate. Try and convince our parents.
But none of this assuages the feeling of helplessness.
And maybe we are all cowards. I am a coward, of course. I care too much for my family’s well-being to go be a full-blown revolutionary.
But I want history to remember, at the very least, that we knew this shit was horrible, we knew it was bad, we wished desperately for it to end. We didn’t do all we could. We are not perfect people: we deserve the painful truth of that judgement. But we did something.
Drone playlist for you today. All new drones for your droning pleasure. Solid drones. Oh wait this Big Blood drone is a little old. Same with Secret Machines. Recently gave them a listen for the first time because I learned they are descended from a 90’s band I loved, Comet. I mentioned this like three weeks ago, I’m sure you remember. Comet ruled.
Fare the well, my friends, my readers. There’s music on Clinton Street all through the night.
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Thanks for reading.
And hey! Maybe buy one of my books!
Good Morning, Hello, How Are You vol 1.