The End of All Things

Posted in film with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 24, 2008 by mulcahey

For a couple months now I’ve been goading my friends about the Large Hadron Collider and its promise to destroy the world.  On some level I’ve known that it’s impossible (or at least highly unlikely) but I’ve kept up the Chicken Little act for a simple reason: I want someone to throw a kick ass End of the World party.  Of course no one did, and for good reason.  Our country has been bombarded with supposedly life-ending scares since the time of the A-bomb tests on Bikini Atoll.  It wasn’t too long ago that everyone was worried about bird flu, or mad cow disease before that, or Y2K before that, and so on and so forth.

It seems that in the last 50 years, the only credible threat to our way of life came in the form of a few planes, and I’m wincing to even call that credible.  The danger was real, at least, and the majority of us didn’t see it coming.  When TV pundits could have been talking about terrorism, they instead talked about computer glitches, and the result was a nation blindsided by an unforeseen hazard.

In the years since 9/11 we’ve talked plenty about terrrorism, but always in the hysterical, fear-mongering tones formerly reserved for ill cattle and comet-worshipping cults.  And once again, our inability to have a substantial, rationale conversation about the problems facing America has manifested itself in another avoidable-but-now-unforeseen problem.  Ironically enough, the threat facing us now comes from pretty damn near that sacred spot we all promised never to forget.

The end of the world is here, really here, and this time I don’t feel like partying.  We’re on our way to mass catastrophe, and it doesn’t look nearly as sexy as the movies made it out to be.  There are no explosions, no alien invaders, no planes falling from the sky.  There’s simply a whimper and a room full of silent people all too embarrassed, too proud, and too stupid to admit that this whole damn thing was a giant mistake.

We’re witnessing the ultimate admission of the failure of the free market, and yet no one is willing to admit it.  We’re being asked to believe that these bankers are our sisters and brothers, and that their problems be looked upon with compassion.  Meanwhile, none of them can find pen and ink to write a note that says, “I’m sorry,” but they had no problem furnishing a request for the keys to the Treasury.  The fucking nerve.

The corporate media institutions that scoff whenever someone has the audacity to claim that America isn’t God’s gift to the world are trying hard to figure out what the hell happened.  Their heroes – those brave, conservative economic wizards whose unshakable belief in the free market is the backbone of this country – have just been shown to be completely and totally wrong.  Wrong on government.  Wrong on deregulation.  Wrong on capitalism.  And yet they know – they’re sure – that those “crazy liberals” can’t have been proven right.  That would just be silly.  But then again, wasn’t it the Progressive Left that clamored for more oversight after Enron?  And wasn’t it Bush and the Repubs who wanted to privatize Social Security and invest it in the stock market?  And who was it that stopped him?  The Democrats may not be good for much, but their frustrating ability to accomplish nothing has at last proven useful…this time.

But it may well be to no avail.  Unless the media – and through it, America – chooses to accept the sad truth implied by the weeks events, we’re doomed.  We’ll go ahead and hand over more cash to the men who just lost all of theirs in the vain hope that they’ll set it all right again.  As a nation we’ve got the tragic acquiescence of a gambler’s wife.  At least the gambler’s wife gets marital rites out of it.  We’re just getting raped.

It’s still not too late.  We could take the $700 billion and build health care and housing to weather the storm.  I’m serious.  This isn’t Hoover’s depression, after all.  It’s much worse.  If Hoover had been handed $700 billlion in 1929, he very well could have fixed the economy single-handedly.  That’s because Hoover’s dollars were backed by gold.  They meant something.  Our dollars are backed by our belief in them, which is a lot like being popular in middle school.  It doesn’t mean anything, and it only works if you can trick everyone into believing that it’s true.

So why even try a bail-out?  If it’s money we don’t have, if it’s only going to depress the dollar even further, if we all KNOW that our way of doing business is fundamentally flawed, why not take the little confidence we have left in our economy and put into something that we KNOW will help people?  Maybe the long-sought but never-realized triple whammy of housing, health care, and education could be the solution to greed, theft, and deregulation.  But wait, they say, that’s socialism!  Really?  And what’s it called when the government owns the bank?

Capitalism is dead.  Like the Large Hadron Collider, it was an experiment too large, benefiting too few, and at too great a cost to the many.  At least I’m lying about the collider.

Baby’s on fire and she’s burning down the house

Posted in music with tags , , , on September 21, 2008 by mulcahey

It’s kind of a rule: If David Byrne and Brian Eno release a cut of their new album as an embed, you have to link to it.

Everything That Happens

Enjoy.

Kinda makes you want to dance

Posted in Star Wars on September 16, 2008 by mulcahey

Or maybe that’s just me.

The Apple that Never Sleeps

Posted in Life with tags , , , on September 15, 2008 by mulcahey

So I live in NYC now, officially.  Here’s some fun stuff to celebrate this epic move of an unheard-of 300 miles, 2 duffle bags, and $30.

And, just in case this whole NYC thing turns out to be a bust:

Don’t Go to NY by John Record

Milking the Sun

Posted in Uncategorized on September 11, 2008 by mulcahey

The road trip may be over, but that doesn’t mean that Marissa and I are done using it to pry money from the hands of those foolish enough to offer it to us.

Vote for Marissa’s video here and help her win some moolah.

A Poem for My President

Posted in Politics with tags , on September 11, 2008 by mulcahey

A little while ago I heard about Farewell43, a website where you can leave a personal message for George W. The ‘best’ messages (who decides?) are published in a book that will ostensibly be given to the departing president. The video that explains all this is SUPER lame, which leads me to believe that the book’s publishers – despite their claims of neutrality – are, in fact, right-wing losers (or at least just losers). How could anyone be neutral in a presidency this bad???

Besides their apparent ban on good videos, they also prohibit obscenities. How the HELL do you leave a message for Bush without using obscenities??? It’s impossible…or at least that’s what I thought. After a little thought and even littler time, I managed to come up with a message that makes its point in the style of the Bush presidency: an insult just subtle enough elude the stupid people and keep them waving flags. Give it a look, and if you agree, give it a 5 star rating.

You can see my message for George here.

It’s her!

Posted in film with tags on September 10, 2008 by mulcahey
My dream girl?

My dream girl?

RNC (p)review

Posted in Politics, current, election 2008, film with tags , , on September 9, 2008 by mulcahey

Nathan and I gave some of our footage to Current last week.  They used it in a short piece found here.  Our piece is still in the works, and will give viewers a much more in-depth look at the situation in St. Paul… and hopefully beyond.  I’m fond of saying that Current’s footage tells you what happened; ours will tell you why.

More to come.

RNC Dispatch #3: Turtles Through Time

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on September 9, 2008 by mulcahey

After a chaotic 4 days in St. Paul, we’ve packed up our things and left.  Not because we got everything we needed (although we got some good stuff), but because the police environment has become too hostile for us to continue our work.  We’ve already told most of you about the Tuesday night search of our car (when cops shined flashlights in our camera lens to stop us from filming).  We thought we had seen the worst of it.  Last night, however, we got more than we bargained for.

We drove into St. Paul to meet up with our friends at Current, based inside the convention center.  We parked our car at Mickey’s diner, the local eatery we’ve come to know so well…in part because we’ve been parking there a lot.  We spent about 5 hours working with Current on a piece that should air in the next day or so (links to come), and upon returning we found that our car had been towed.  That sucks, but it’s not world-ending, obviously.  But then, before we could even call the towing company and find our where our car had been towed to, we were surrounded by cops who asked if we were carrying weapons.  We told them no and then were immediately frisked.  It’s not a pleasant experience.  One of the officers asked Nathan if he was from another country, and he said, “Yes, Maryland.” We were then told to wait for the Secret Service.  We asked what the problem was, but were told only that the SS wanted to talk to us.

The SS showed up and immediately separated Nathan from Evan, and Evan from Nathan, and Oscar from Meyer.  They rummaged through our bags, took our cell phones, read our text messages, and proceeded to question us for about 45 minutes.  Where were we staying?  Who’s house?  What’s the address?  How do we feel about anarchists?  One SS agent took Nathan aside and told him he was trying to help him, and that Nathan would be safe if he just told him what was in his car.  We both explained to our interrogators that we had nothing in the car except for bags of food and a tripod, but still the questions came.  At one point they just gave up the charade and started speaking in German.  I mean, not really, but that’s what if felt like.

After about 40 minutes (during which several of our friends from the diner passed by and gave us confused looks), we were released.  Inside the diner, we related our tale of molestation to the staff and customers and were given complimentary ice cream floats.  Evan’s was Coca-cola, Nathan’s was black cherry.  Evan really wanted a black cherry, but Nathan got the last bottle in the diner, which was kinda weird, seeing as how he had already had 3 black cherry floats since we got to St. Paul and Evan had had 0.  But it just wasn’t Evan’s night.

We ended up walking the 3 miles to the car-towing place.  The SS had warned us that it was in a bad neighborhood (but declined our request for a ride).  We tried our best to smooth-talk the receptionist, and we almost got her, but ultimately the system won.  We forked over a good sum of cash, got the car back, and headed to our make-shift home.

We regrouped and retold the story to our friends.  The more we told it, the more we realized that we had dodged a bullet.  All of our friends – journalists, both independent and accredited – were getting arrested left and right.  Cops raided an independent journalism office because they claimed that anarchists were holding hostages inside…based on an “anonymous” tip.  Of course, there were no hostages, but after the cops bashed in the door with a battering ram, the landlord kicked the journalists out.  With the situation only getting worse, we decided to pack up our things and go.  That was at 2 AM.

We’re currently on our way back to Maryland and DC, respectively.  We hope to see you all soon, show you our work, and swap stories over some black cherry ice cream floats.  For those of you still in St. Paul, we wish you the best of luck and hope for your safety.

We don’t know where the President is,
Spineless Media
(Nathan and Evan)

RNC Dispatch #2: Pig(s) in the City

Posted in Politics, current, election 2008 with tags , , , , on September 9, 2008 by mulcahey
Day Two started not with a bang, but more of a whimper or a wshhhhh shhhhoooshing sound as the wind picked up and a light rain made the St. Paul streets quiet and overcast.   The Indy Media Center was still bustling when we got there.  Everyone seemed to be recovering from the day before, so we decided it would be a good time to check out the convention itself.
Evan’s connections at Current got us some floor passes and soon enough we went through security and were inside the convention center.  What a graveyard!  No one there seemed to know or care about what happened the previous day.  The room was desolate and boring, we goofed around there for a bit, but longed for the actions of the street.  So we traded in our press passes for a gasmask and bandana soaked in vinagar and joined protesters at the March for Life / March for the Poor.
The March started with some amazing speeches, but was almost thrown into chaos when some undercover police officers dressed as protesters (with a sideways baseball cap, they weren’t exactly pulling off, “dudes”) started to instigate violence while someone else had a seizure in the crowd.  We followed the undercovers into a parking garage where they met with another officer.  When we asked them if they were undercover cops, they were less than pleased.  It is a disturbing realization that no protest can go peacefully because the police themselves instigate further violence.
The March for Life went on for a few hours as we walked around the city and up to the capitol where the march combined with a pissed off audience of an impromptu Rage Against the Machine concert that was cut short by cops saying they didn’t have a permit.   Now in the several thousands, the march reached the convention center where the people demanded a citizens arrest of a bunch of politicians.  A near-silent crowd stared down police and the Excel center, waiting for something to happen.  Nothing transpired, so the crowd began to disperse, disapointed but non-violent. As we dispersed, found ourselves surrounded by swat teams around Mickey’s Diner (famous diner in Praire Home Companion, Jingle All the Way, Mighty Ducks 1, 2, & 3), where unfortunately, Nathan’s car was parked.  We tried to steer the crowd to cheer ”Free My Car!” but that didn’t seem to do any good so we followed the crowd, lazily walking back through the city when the police out of nowhere started shooting tear gas and concussion grenades.  We both got seperated as we ran through the streets filled with that nasty stuff.  If you haven’t experienced it, the gas works super quick and within seconds your eyes are burning and you feel nauseus and have trouble breathing.  Evan ran like a little girl down the streets while trying to put on the 60 year old gas mask from WW2 he bought for a dollar.  Nathan ran very very quickly but found himself trapped like a rat in a dead end of a bank parking lot, but held his breath and was able to make it through the fog.  He also ran like a little girl that had to pee “weely weely baad.”
We regrouped back at the capitol and found the two guys who we’ve been rooming with and the four of us went back to Mickey’s Diner for some ice cream floats and burgers.  We parked our car in a parking lot (guarded by a cop, who gave us a thumbs up) across from the Indy Media Center and went inside.  Everyone there was completely paranoid because NSA were spotted on the ground floor of the building tapping into their wireless and Feds had been watching them from across the street with binoculars all day.  When we left the center we found a dozen cops around Nathan’s car looking in with flashlights.  Evan filmed as they looked around the car and made Nathan explain certain items inside.  Why did we “abandon” the car?  Who are we?  Where are our credentials?  Why are two extremely good-looking guys like us doing in a one horse town like St.Paul?  Nathan then engaged in a very funny conversation with the head cop about the location of the president we will try to post tomorrow.   Media converting has been a huge issue, and part of us are regretting getting the cheap harddrive-included camcorder from costco that we will return as soon as we are finished using it.  We have to devote today to technical issues but we might be heading out tonight unless the anarchists are planning a retaliation for the tear drop time last nite.
Hugs and Kisses
Star Wars not Real Wars!
Vote for Pizza,
Spineless Media
(Nathan and Evan)