How Dare You!

If kids—hell, if anyone is looking for an example of courage and heroism today, you could do far worse than Greta Thunberg. Her speech yesterday at the U.N. General Assembly perfectly captured the rage and betrayal that our youngest generations are feeling about the world that’s being left to them. If it resonated with you, like it did with me, there’s a good chance you’re feeling that rage and betrayal too.

I don’t update this blog as often as I should. I want to change that, but if I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to change that for a while now. I have to assume that in spite of my best intentions, this post, much like my previous two, will likely stay at the top of my website for months, if not years to come. So, if that’s the case, the post might as well be Thunberg’s speech. You should read it if you haven’t (or even better watch it). If you’ve already read it and it’s been a while, it probably wouldn’t hurt to read it again. Because this is something that needs to be top of mind for all of us.

This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be standing here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to me for hope? How dare you! You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I’m one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction. And all you can talk about is money and fairytales of eternal economic growth. How dare you!

For more than 30 years the science has been crystal clear. How dare you continue to look away, and come here saying that you are doing enough, when the politics and solutions needed are still nowhere in sight.

You say you “hear” us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I don’t want to believe that. Because if you fully understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil. And I refuse to believe that.

The popular idea of cutting our emissions in half in 10 years only gives us a 50% chance of staying below 1.5C degrees, and the risk of setting off irreversible chain reactions beyond human control.

Maybe 50% is acceptable to you. But those numbers don’t include tipping points, most feedback loops, additional warming hidden by toxic air pollution or the aspects of justice and equity. They also rely on my and my children’s generation sucking hundreds of billions of tons of your CO2 out of the air with technologies that barely exist. So a 50% risk is simply not acceptable to us – we who have to live with the consequences.

To have a 67% chance of staying below a 1.5C global temperature rise – the best odds given by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change – the world had 420 gigatons of carbon dioxide left to emit back on January 1, 2018. Today that figure is already down to less than 350 gigatons. How dare you pretend that this can be solved with business-as-usual and some technical solutions. With today’s emissions levels, that remaining CO2 budget will be entirely gone in less than eight and a half years.

There will not be any solutions or plans presented in line with these figures today. Because these numbers are too uncomfortable. And you are still not mature enough to tell it like it is.

You are failing us. But the young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you. And if you choose to fail us I say we will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this. Right here, right now is where we draw the line. The world is waking up. And change is coming, whether you like it or not.

A Few Post Election Thoughts…

It’s been about a day since it became clear to me that Donald Trump was going to become the next President of the United States. Despite what the polls were saying, I knew there was a chance—this wasn’t a complete shock to me—but like many I truly thought Hillary would win the presidency. If you know me, you know that’s what I wanted. I believe she was truly qualified to hold our highest office. In fact, I supported her when she ran against Obama in 2008. But like so many others, I believed Donald Trump to be dangerous. I still do. And I’m sad, angry and more than a little scared that he won. That’s where I’m at right now.

But here’s also where I’m at right now. We can’t do anything about what happened. We can learn from it and we can prepare ourselves for at least four years of challenges and sadly, steps in the wrong direction. We can support, help and stand up for our fellow Americans, particularly in the face of hatred. We can make donations to the causes that we believe in. And we can comfort each other during the scary times. Because, my friends, it IS going to get scary at times.

But there’s one other thing that I plan to do. Plenty of Trump’s support came from hate groups. We really need to be honest with ourselves about that. But we also need to be honest about the fact that MOST of his support did not. In fact, many people who voted for him did so with little enthusiasm. Remember, he was one of the most unpopular candidates in history (unfortunately, so was Hillary). For many people, he really was the lesser of two evils. Personally, I don’t understand how someone can see a person who has said and done the things Trump has as a lesser evil than Hillary, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you if you do.

I have a lot of concerns regarding the state of our nation, but one of my biggest is how divided we are. I’ve seen a lot of tweets or Facebook posts over the past 24 hours telling people to unfollow them or unfriend them if they supported Trump. Well, for myself, that’s not what I want. I’m not sure how many Trump voters are following me on Twitter or have friended me on Facebook, but if you’re one of them, please don’t unfollow me. Clearly you’ve put up with all of my pro-Clinton posts over the past six months, which suggests you’re tolerant of other views. That’s a good thing. In fact, considering the state we’re in, I’d say it’s a great thing. And I need to get better at this myself.

If you voted for Trump, I will likely never agree with your politics and you probably won’t agree with mine, but I can still respect them and try to understand them. We can both strongly feel differently about something and still engage with each other, be friendly, and ultimately agree to disagree. That’s what I see missing in so much of the social media discourse on both sides, and don’t kid yourself if you’re more liberal like I am, we liberals are as bad about it as conservatives. I get that many people are angry—like I said, I am too—but that anger can’t warp us into seeing citizens who disagree with us as our enemy.

So yes, if you’re a Trump voter who didn’t vote out of hate (let’s be clear, I have zero respect for racism or sexism), but still feel like Trump better reflects your beliefs than Hillary did, don’t unfollow me and don’t be afraid to express your disagreement if I tweet something politically that you disagree with. You’re not likely to change my opinion and I realize I’m unlikely to change yours, but we can still remain friendly with each other. As Americans, we need to understand other perspectives, even if we don’t agree with them. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to work together, and it’ll always be a fight, with the side out of power angry and hateful toward the side in power. That will literally tear our country apart. If our nation has any chance of healing this divide—and I realize that if it’s even possible, it’s going to take a while—it needs to start at the personal level. And I intend to do my part.

On Robin

I’ve found it hard to process the death of Robin Williams since first hearing about it this afternoon, and I wanted to share a few thoughts on it here. Nothing formal and maybe not even coherent. Just what I’m feeling.

We’ve lost many celebrities that I’ve admired these past few years—Elmore Leonard, Harold Ramis, Lou Reed, just to name a few. I’m a huge fan of Warren Zevon and Hunter S. Thompson, both of whom died within my recent lifetime. But I’m taking this one harder than any of those.

And I think I’ve figured out why. One of my earliest memories as a child was watching Mork & Mindy on TV with my father. It’s one of the first TV shows I can clearly remember watching at night. (One of the others was The Muppet Show, and I took the loss of Jim Henson very hard as well.) As a young child, I didn’t watch much TV at night, most of the shows weren’t exactly aimed at kids, but you didn’t have to get all of the humor to find Mork funny. Williams energy and over-the-top response to every situation was pretty transcendent in its appeal—it spoke to kids and adults.

A couple years later, I remember seeing clips of Williams doing stand up on some TV show or other, and my father pointing out that he was Mork. I also remember seeing Popeye and having it explained to me that Popeye was also Mork. I think it might’ve been the first time I realized that actors existed outside their characters—that he wasn’t actually Mork, but a really funny guy who did other things as well. From that point on, I was a fan, even though I was probably too young at that time to be listening to much of his comedy.

No worries, though, since I eventually grew into it. Good Morning Vietnam, Hook, The Birdcage, Awakenings, Aladdin, Good Will Hunting and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen were all favorites of mine. But there are a few that really stand out. A few that really meant a lot at a key time in my life.

Club Paradise probably isn’t a movie of his that many people would list as a favorite, but I love it. I fell in love with reggae in junior high and seeing Robin Williams and Jimmy Cliff in the same movie—directed by Harold Ramis, no less—was just too cool. Yes, the best lines in it belong to Rick Moranis and Eugene Levy, but Williams’ banter with Peter O’Toole and the other resort guests was priceless.

I’ve actually blogged about The Fisher King here before, but it’s hands down one of my favorites of his. Possibly my very favorite. I think it’s funny and imaginative and wonderful, and also truly poignant. I think it helped me realize the psychological aspect that often accompanies loss. It may seem strange that I learned that from a Terry Gilliam movie, but hey, I was still relatively young and inexperienced with life when I saw it.

And finally, Dead Poets Society. A movie that I’ve seen at least two dozen times and still can’t watch without turning into a sobbing mess at the end. Man, I loved Professor Keating. He spoke to me in a way that no teacher of mine ever had. His lesson about seizing the day is something I try to keep in mind constantly. His comments about poetry and art fed my interests in high school and are a big reason why I do what I do today. Combine Keating’s lesson with some amazing, quotable, unforgettable lines and you have a phenomenal film. It’s shocking that this isn’t the one that earned Williams an Oscar, honestly.

Anyhow, what I’m getting at is that Robin Williams has been a source of entertainment for me throughout literally my entire life, and that’s one of the reasons why this one hits particularly hard. A friend of mine tweeted earlier that she felt like a piece of her childhood had died, and I understand what she means. I’d imagine that for many of us in our later thirties, it does feel like we lost a friend we’ve had since we were kids.

Rest in peace, Robin. I didn’t know you and can’t begin to imagine what you must have been going through in your life. But thank you for bringing some real joy to all of ours.

Kickstarting a Conversation: Why I Won’t Be Paying For Potato Salad

As everyone on the Internet surely knows, Kickstarter’s currently hosting a campaign to raise money for a guy in Ohio to make potato salad. He was asking for $10. He’s made $43,000 so far. And there are still 23 days to go.

The world is a crazy, crazy place, kids.

People do stupid things on the Internet all the time, and my thinking has typically been (probably very erroneously) that most people view the web as a place where they don’t have to think. Much like TV, it’s a source of entertainment and information that doesn’t require a lot of thought. It’s interactive, but only in the most base-level sense. That’s always been my view, and while it may be completely off the mark, it’s allowed me to create content for the web in good conscious. Because believe me, if I thought my work was truly fostering stupidity, I would stop.

But for some reason, this potato salad thing was really rubbing me the wrong way, and I couldn’t figure out why. At least, until I read this tweet.

I think that’s pretty spot-on. It’s also sad and unfortunate, and I wonder if crowdfunding will ever fully recover.

The problem is that there shouldn’t BE an ironic age when it comes to Kickstarter. When art enters an ironic age, it’s due to oversaturation. But when a business prompts irony, and Kickstarter is at its heart a business, it’s almost always due to a failure in their core mission. If people are now using Kickstarter ironically and having success with that, it’s because the public has become so bored and fed up with sincere Kickstarters that they’re now supporting projects that are in essence mocking them. It’s oversaturation, but the difference between art and business is that a business can set limits. I learned working at Tokyopop that just because you can create more and flood the shelves doesn’t mean you should because then nothing stands out. Not a day goes by that I don’t get at least one Kickstarter or other crowdfunding appeal in my Twitter or Facebook feed. Not a day. I’d imagine most of you are the same way.

I don’t know how many campaigns Kickstarter allows to run at the same time, but no matter the number, that’s a whole lot of noise. Kickstarter approves all of their projects, and yes, it benefits them to have a healthy amount, but for a while now it’s seemed that they could really do with a lot more restraint, and I think this potato salad campaign removes all doubt. Someone over there approved this thing (despite the fact that it doesn’t seem to adhere to their terms of use).

So why do I care? Why is this a problem? Because I believe crowdfunding is one of the best trends I’ve seen come along in my lifetime. In an age where costs are rising and money’s tighter than ever, it’s extremely difficult to make money from creativity. Crowdfunding has made that viable for so many people, and it would be a real loss to see it devolve into a joke.

I’m not going to speculate as to the potato salad guy’s motivations. Obviously he put at least a little effort into creating this campaign, but at the same time, his Twitter feed and this Good Morning America YouTube clip seem to suggest he’s very down to earth and genuinely surprised by it all. (He certainly doesn’t seem like some sort of smug or winking shock artist laughing his way to the bank.) He talks and tweets about wanting to do good with the money he’s raised, but hasn’t gone into too much detail about what he means by that and in pure GMA style, every question he’s asked in that clip is a soft one. Plus, who the hell creates an entire Kickstarter campaign just to create potato salad? If he’s not pulling a huge one over on everyone, then he’s one of the biggest cheapskates I’ve ever seen.

Either way, I kinda hope he chokes a little on the first bite.

Surviving the Third Floor

I live on the top floor of a three-story building in Studio City. I’ve lived here with my girlfriend and my cat for close to a year now. On the surface, it’s a pretty great arrangement. Studio City is nice, we have good Italian food and tacos within walking distance, the neighbors here are friendly, our apartment manager kind of reminds me of Lou Reed… All good things. At first, being on the top floor felt like being on top of the world a bit, or at least at the top of the apartment social ladder. We could stand outside our front doorway, which opens above the courtyard, or from our back balcony and look down on our kingdom and all who lived within it, like some sort of minor lord in a Hawaiian shirt.

And then summer hit.

All of you who live in upper level apartments in warm areas know what I’m talking about. Every evening, the sun sets, the world cools and the Southern California weather turns brisk. By early morning, there’s dew on the grass and a sweet, kale-scented breeze in the air. (Everything in LA smells like kale. Haven’t you heard?) It’s mild and comfortable. Except for in our apartment, where it’s a balmy 85 degrees and has been since the prior afternoon.

Look, I know hot air rises. Everyone knows that. But what I didn’t expect was for this apartment to hold onto that heat like a tea partier holding on to outdated ideals. There are about five different windows in this place, and opening them doesn’t seem to make much of a difference at all. Fans don’t seem to help move the air around. Short of moving our bed out onto the balcony, there doesn’t seem to be much that works when it comes to cooling the place down.

Of course, there IS the air conditioner. We do have one. I always feel guilty about turning it on, though. I’m not an overly guilt prone person, but there are two things that seem to do it to me. One is eating greasy, unhealthy food. The other is turning on the air conditioner. The first has everything to do with my high cholesterol, but my guilt over air conditioning can almost entirely be pinned on an ex.

A few years ago, I dated a woman who was heavy into environmentalism. Now, before anyone gets started, I’m a firm believer in environmentalism. I try to impact the environment as little as possible, but I’m not perfect about it. I know I could be doing a lot more and for some reason, all of that guilt has decided to target my use of indoor climate controls. I resist turning the air on until all of us here are on the brink of passing out, and when I finally do, it’s with thoughts of how disappointed my mother would be and how I’m a terrible, terrible father for leaving my son and his children a Mad Max world to inherit. (Let’s face it. As much as you may love Mad Max, you don’t really want him as a son.)

I know it’s stupid. I’ve even brought it up with my therapist a few times, and how much it makes me dread the heat every year. He didn’t tell me it was stupid, but I certainly felt dumb after realizing I had just dropped $20 to spend an hour literally talking about the weather.

So stupid or not, the air conditioner isn’t going on until the heat becomes intolerable, and currently the heat’s not there yet. But it’s enough to make living at the top of the world not seem like such a great thing anymore. More often than not, I find myself getting out of my home and castle to mingle with the masses in an air conditioned movie theater or café, leaving my cat to look down on our kingdom since she’s the only one of us who doesn’t seem to mind the heat. I suspect one of her ancestors may have belonged to a Pharoah or some other renowned Egyptian. In fact, if the cats in Egypt handled the heat as well as she does, I think I understand why the Egyptians revered them. My cat’s ability to tolerate the hot weather is worthy of admiration, and I can totally seeing that leaping up to worship if the temperature were to hit 120 degrees with any regularity. So yeah, maybe the Egyptians were on to something. Maybe instead of turning cats into memes and viral videos, we should be seeking their wisdom for dealing with the heat.

They’d probably just tell us to turn on the damn air.