Daisey on the Shame Chain

Near the end of last week, I'd wanted to weigh in here on the cancellation of HBO's "Luck" - the ending of which was directly caused by accidents that led to three horses being euthanized during filming. The story leading up to the plug being pulled on "Luck" had me intrigued because it allowed for a curious peek inside the chasm between PETA and the American Humane Society. But I was also drawn to the evolving intrigue around this horsey story because I just plain love(d) the show. It seems that I'm one of the few who saw the snap once again in David Milch's writing and the conflict-heavy brilliance possible inside the world of racing. As luck would have it, we hit the road last Thursday for a long weekend in the Bay Area. A nice big chunk of which for me meant getting back to the satisfying face-to-face work of research in the field as it relates to much grander narrative ambitions. As has been the case up to now and will still be going forward until such time as having some announcements to make, I don't talk about sources. In effect, this blog parses out parts of the story of a story in progress. Things that interest me as I go along get sporadically posted here - all, hopefully, related to the broader theme. I make up my own rules, but they adhere somewhat to a basic sensibility - I'm not doing journalism, but I treat the people I speak with as if I am doing so. Then something happened over the weekend which made me do a full stop as a small storm of pseudo-journalistic inappropriateness rumbled over the horizon.

"This American Life" ran its "Retraction" of Mike Daisey being featured on their show in January of this year (the most popular episode in their history dating back to the mid-90s). In that original airing, Daisey excerpted and repackaged parts of his stage performance "The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs". I wish Daisey's mistake and the subsequent reaction didn't belong to an entire category of such trainwreck stories. James Frey and Greg Mortensen (to name just the most obvious two) have already primed the memory pump. Yet to hear Daisey being interviewed by Ira Glass about the way he outright lied and spun the truth and bent over backwards to lump together an otherwise compelling story about the supply chain for Apple products manufactured in China is to hear a man's reputation come crashing down around him in pieces. I was stunned. I was saddened. I was impressed by "This American Life" immensely yet again. I thought about my own time in China last fall "reporting" for my own book. And I'm still thinking about what it means if someone with a mission to tell a larger truth gets caught with even a few lies mixed into the work.

I can't help but think of my own work and a conversation I continually have (both with myself and others) about the way in which I am pursuing this project. I believe it is possible to write a book that is somewhere between "journalism" and "memoir" - a book that bridges bookstores categories that run from "history" to "current affairs" to the full range of indie bookseller classifications that encompass "animal rights" and "nature" and "politics and culture". In fact, I've been spending a great deal of time lately thinking about just that - if the bridge between categories is something appropriate to use when writing a book. Mike Daisey's experience (and that of Frey and Mortensen and countless others who've seemingly ambled down this same road where they feel like the rules don't apply to them) is very much on my mind today. Whatever happens to him hereafter, I think a lesson might be applicable for all sorts of writers. I think it could be summed up as follows:

If you tweak the truth, someone will follow up and find it. Period. Luck has nothing to do with it.

The Search for Meaning Between Activism and Enforcement

Over the weekend while watching "Game Change" on HBO (a truly fantastic adaptation of the juiciest part of Halperin and Heileman's book), a "Washington Post" story by Juliet Eilperin captured and redirected my focus. I've been looking into much of what's covered by the umbrella of that story. And new details continue to emerge on related cases and issues, even just since this story ran on the front page of Sunday's Post. To step back a bit - Eilperin wrote about what she'd characterized as a decrease in the incidences of "eco-terrorism" and the increased scrutiny of those individuals engaged in or considering such acts. Some folks take issue with the term "eco-terrorism" as applied in shorthand to describe a whole host of political, cultural or paradoxical causes. In my opinion, it's on the order of "homeland security" as a term that ends up strip-mined of real meaning when it gets used too broadly. Still, Eilperin offered up a smart list of examples to support the very valid observation at the center of her story. A dizzying array of interests have since brought something to or taken something away from this story. Just read the comments section associated with the story to see how broad the interests are proving - animal rights, anything Green, Occupy Everything, fracking, you name it. Hell, someone even mentioned Solyndra. Crackpottedness aside, I'm fascinated by this amalgam of reactions - within and far beyond the Post's comments section. Maybe it proves that if you paint with a broad brush, people then see whatever they've been searching for in the abstraction. Think Gerhard Richter - but in sociopolitical terms. If you haven't yet read it but choose to hereafter do so, I would love to hear your takeaways. Before you return to "Game Change" or whatever else preceded coming across this.

Dissecting images, looking for contrast

There maybe was some confusion caused by the post(s) I offered last week featuring the co-branded PETA/Lingerie Football League protest in downtown Seattle. To recap, four of the women from the LFL's Seattle Mist came out on a very rainy Wednesday a few weeks after the Holidays shopping season ended to protest the selling of fur coats. It could be noted that Nordstrom - the Seattle retailer anchoring the downtown retail district around Westlake Park where the protest occurred - doesn't carry fur garments. In the top picture here, one set of legs is from that of a player, wearing her turf shoes. Presumably made of leather. And in that same pic are the leather boots (again, presumably) of a PETA organizer standing next to her in Starbucks after the rainy show. Or maybe their footwear is synthetic, derived from petroleum. In the other picture here, you see at least one leather bag, more leather shoes, and I don't even want to get into dissecting what the lingerie uniforms are made of (I'll leave that to the real fans out there). Obviously these aren't the parts of the images anyone will look to for meaning when the central subject(s) are toned, fake-tanned (this is Seattle, after all...and one of the sponsors of the Mist is a tanning salon), let's just say sporty-clad women on the street. But if you're going to be out there making a point, I think the debate should be teed up. The protest brought to mind things I've seen Dan Matthews from PETA say for the past two decades (one particular interview with "Dateline NBC" in 1995 serves up some of his universal or holistic views on the use of animals). To paraphrase - just don't do it. Because I'll assume he's consistent, he represents the view that even honey or silk shouldn't be used (don't tell the sweet Mist players that all those silky garments that are LFL's namesake possibly came from worms or you might have a strike on your hands). One takeaway from this is that holistic beliefs are hard. And if you're casual about it, you're opened up to charges of hypocrisy. I could take it further to make a point I've always maintained about these protests. That they have very, very little to do with animals. This is about "class" and not the kind that has anything to do with whether people think it's appropriate to wear your underwear out in public (on that note, I'm a total libertarian). No, this is about targeting people for the buying decisions they make and their presumed position on some metaphorical socio-economic roster. Because if it was only about the animals, all those leather shoes and silky uniforms and downy-outerwear and honey-infused tanning products or latte sweeteners and I'm sure plenty of other stuff not even mentioned might warrant their own passel of protesters. Who'd surely look very different. And where's the fun in that?

Next up, PETA uncovers the oppressive code hidden in "Pitfall"

PETA consistently surprises me with the absurd angles they take on animal rights issues. I'll be the first to say that their sense of the ridiculous is often clever. Even if they consistently perpetuate completely false claims. Their latest PR assault comes from a direction few could have seen coming. This time out, PETA takes on Nintendo. Whether or not anyone who grew up playing Super Mario realizes it, there's an opportunity for activism hidden in that there code. Specifically, the obscure, magic Tanooki cloak that showed up in Super Mario 3. Admittedly, I'm not well versed in the game. I'll date myself by admitting that I'm more Atari 2600 than Nintendo. Still, PETA's produced an especially lame, not at all timely web-based game to play on their website. Spoiler alert - Tanooki tries to turn the tables on Mario. I've played it. Gamers surely won't. Maybe if they go old school and stand up for the rights of those misunderstood Invaders from Space, I'll see past wrongs worth being righted. But I'm not holding my breath on that one.