Be my head

The Guilt-Free Soldier, from the Village Voice. Boy. Neurological hacking, basically.

"It's the morning-after pill for just about anything that produces regret, remorse, pain, or guilt."

Honestly, I'm somewhat skeptical about this sort of thing being worked out anytime soon. To state the obvious, the brain is complex, and I'd be a little surprised if our first efforts to peak at its workings directly were so successful. But, of course, that doesn't mean we can't goof around with it. Imagine the sorts of social changes that would result in the wake of reliable emotion-altering techniques.

The caveat, of course, is that they have to be accepted, and I'm not so sure that is or will be the case. Mood-altering chemicals are not a rarity today, but they tend to be rather blunt in their effects, and often dangerous as a result. They are not particularly trusted. Something like alcohol can enjoy a high social standing, but once it's being used as a medication that standing tends to evaporate.

Of course, much of this is socially imposed. Cocaine gets to be glamourous, crack does not. Thunderbird and Cabernet Sauvignon lubricate different circles. (And a word about wine enthusiasts: They're nuts. Well, they're very enthusiastic. Trade magazines in general are pretty intense experiences. Thanks to the Wine Spectator for assistance with spelling tricky French words, though reading through it makes me realize that I basically don't know anything about anything, and all my appreciations are superficial, and that I live life like one rides a water slide.) It's certainly possible that the techniques described in the article could become socially acceptable. Especially if they're as specific as we might imagine them to be. Should we be able to dial up emotional states at will, things will no doubt get very interesting, though whether this is because they actually are or because we choose to perceive them as such may become an unanswerable (and uninteresting) question.

If I was smarter I'd write a paper on all this.

Why The RIAA Will Win And All Hope Is Lost

I was so ready to boycott the RIAA. Why support an industry's bad habits, I thought? I am not downloading music, but I do not need to buy it, either. I will vote with my dollars! I will wage a crusade of capital! Financial flight!

Today I bought a CD. Hit To Death In The Future Head, by The Flaming Lips. It is great. Very noisy. The Flaming Lips are on Warner Bros. Records.

The Outline Of A Grand Conspiracy

I haven't escaped the Death of Attention Span any more than anyone else my age. Things must be quick and snappy and skin-deep. I don't have that many albums. Less than a hundred, I'm sure. And I don't listen to all of those with the same frequency. This summer it's been heavy on The Minus 5 and The Flaming Lips and a few other things. (I'd listen to the latest White Stripes album more, but I can't remember where I put it, which is perhaps part of the same problem.) I crave novelty.

This wouldn't be such an issue if my car worked. But it doesn't. Which means that I have to drive the family SUV, (Which is old, old, so old.) the tape player on which happens to be of the insert-tape-sideways design, unlike the insert-tape-straight-on design in my car. Which means I can't use my CD player very easily in the SUV. So I've been listening to the radio a lot.

Man I hate the radio. I mean, nobody likes radio anymore. It isn't a question of enjoying or not enjoying what's on it; the medium is just out of date and nobody cares enough to generate any genuine feelings towards it. (Let's ignore for a moment whether this is actually true or not.) But I really dislike it, because locally there is nothing on. Top 40. Golden Oldies. Rock & Roll offered in a flavor I find hard to stomach. I'd listen to NPR more, but classical music just can't grab my attention while driving. This is most likely a deep flaw in my character, but there you are. And AM...let's not even bother with AM. (Though there is a station that plays, like, some strange things sometimes. But AM! I might as well be listening via smoke signal. ((Note that I am cranky in the car, because of the terrible music on the radio, and this is very much coloring my argument.)))

So anyway, all this combines to make me want, in a desperate way, new CDs to listen to, in the event my car is ever fixed. And today I bought one, thus breaking my vow. (For the, uh, second time since making it.)

Futurism

"'Let’s go!' I said. 'Friends, away! Let’s go! Mythology and the Mystic Ideal are defeated at last. We’re about to see the Centaur’s birth and, soon after, the first flight of Angels!... We must shake at the gates of life, test the bolts and hinges. Let’s go! Look there, on the earth, the very first dawn! There’s nothing to match the splendor of the sun’s red sword, slashing for the first time through our millennial gloom!'"
--
Filippo Tommaso Marinetti

Oh man. Where have these guys been all my life? Oh, right, the twentieth century turned ugly and their heroes were hung from lampposts by a terrified and oppressed populace.

"The oldest of us is thirty: even so we have already scattered treasures, a thousand treasures of force, love, courage, astuteness, and raw will-power; have thrown them impatiently away, with fury, carelessly, unhesitatingly, breathless, and unresting... Look at us! We are still untired! Our hearts know no weariness because they are fed with fire, hatred, and speed!... Does that amaze you? It should, because you can never remember having lived! Erect on the summit of the world, once again we hurl our defiance at the stars!"

On Taco Bell

On my way to work there are Thai restaurants, Mexican restaurants, fancy burger emporiums, delis of various ethnic affiliation, and multiple grocery stores. (Because sometimes, especially during the part of the year when I am a poor college student ((as opposed to just poor)), buying a few doughnuts and some soda from a grocery store sounds like a fulfilling meal in itself.) But I fear change and distrust growth, so more often than not it is Taco Bell for me.

I do not particularily dislike Taco Bell. I hope I wouldn't go there if I did. (Though there was a period where lunch for me meant AM/PM, which I did dislike.) But no one is going to claim that it is a fine dining establishment. Largely edible is perhaps the highest believable praise. Anyway, I was in Taco Bell today, before work, and I noticed that framed, on the wall, is this promotional slogan of there's. "If you don't love it, we'll eat it." It goes on to describe an expansive return program.

I avoid confrontation at all costs, and much prefer passive-aggressively griping about misproduced orders rather than actually doing anything to correct them. But if, say, I got something way out of line, like bathroom tile, or chum, I would probably say something, if there was time.

The thing is, that isn't what the framed poster says. If I am not in love with my meal, as I have been in love with few things before, then I am apparently well within my rights to send it back, loudly, and expect to see some poor cashier devour my half-eaten Mexican pizza. (I have no idea what this is. It is only tacos and chicken quesadillas for me, because I was not kidding about a fear of the new.)

This is admirable, I guess, but it seems kind of lofty for a fast food place. I like my food, for sure, but I do not think it is often that I come across a meal that I "love." I like food a lot. I really enjoyed the Pepsi that came with my food, for instance. But I would not say I loved it. I'd go so far as to say that the times I have loved food are far outweighed by the times I've been simply satisfied by it, with perhaps a sizable minority made up of times I've really enjoyed it.

This leads me to believe that, as far as Taco Bell is concerned, I could theoretically eat there for free for the rest of my life. Surely this for them is bad, from a purely financial point of view.

However, if I was really guaranteed a free meal from Taco Bell whenever I wanted one, wouldn't that lead to some pretty warm feelings towards them on my behalf? Maybe not love, not right off the bat. But we would be pretty close, I think, at least until their inevitable betrayal, after which I would probably call them late at night and wait until someone answered, and then hang up. And after work I would drive back and forth in front of the place, trying to build up the courage to go in. So I guess, probably, in the end it would all even out.

Confidence in the human endeavor, restored.

Researchers Use Lab Cultures To Create Robotic 'Semi-living Artist'

Not that this is in itself news of some breathtaking achievement in making life better for everybody, though it very well may lead to, I don't know, postrat-generated masterpieces to be had on the cheap, which might spruce up your typical waiting room; but consider the sheer imagination involved. Science is neat.

"We're attempting to create an entity that over time will evolve, learn, and express itself through art."

So it's come to this: Snarky comments about news articles.

Which make up the worst weblogs ever. I mean, who cares? But there isn't anyone sitting around near me who I can call over and whine to, so, here you are.

Bush Defends War, Sidesteping Issue of Faulty Intelligence

I certainly don't have any grand unified theory of Gulf War II ethics. But enough with the preemptive "I have no opinion" warnings. (I don't know how to make the neat quotation thing where the quoted material is narrower then everything else. Here, we are nothing but incompetent.)

"'I think the American people continue to express their support for ridding the world of Saddam Hussein based on just cause, knowing that Saddam Hussein had chemical and biological weapons that were unaccounted for that we're still confident we'll find,' Mr. Fleischer said. 'I think the burden is on those people who think he didn't have weapons of mass destruction to tell the world where they are.'"

So anyone claiming that Iraq had no such weapons must first prove that they did before they can deny it? This is a pretty awful abuse of English, and the political dangers of that, completely aside from the issue of whether the underlying sentiment is true or not, have been pointed out by people way smarter and more worthy of your time and attention than me.