my thoughts on a bunch of tech-industry drama i don't really know anything about, but feel like commenting on anyway

Here's my take on this whole Penny Arcade vs. Ocean Marketing thing, as this op-ed is the first I've heard about any of it:

Some corporate bigwig (or at least someone who fancies himself one) named Paul sends a few condescending replies to a customer named Dave — who has a legitimate question/complaint regarding his order of 2 Avenger controllers — and when the customer gets frustrated, becomes even more unprofessional, verbally abusive/insulting, and threatening.

Mike (a.k.a, Gabe), an artist for Penny Arcade and co-founder of Child's Play, steps in after being Cc'd by Dave and tells him that this guy won't get a booth at the next Pax East because of his conduct (which I think understandable). The customer, on the other hand, feels bad that his 'pissing match' may ultimately prevent people who could really use this product from getting it, asking Mike to not cancel his booth (a very nice and mature thing to do, I might add).

Apparently, Mike has already done so, however, as Mr. Bigwig now starts to send Mike extremely condescending, abusive, and tasteless emails that increasingly become threatening as Mr. Bigwig begins to name drop and listing off his credentials, contacts, etc., telling Mike that he'd better side with the company rather than the customer "unless you're his boyfriend." (Classy.)

To his credit, once Mr. Bigwig figures out who Mike is, he tries to smooth things over, admitting that he fed "into [Dave's] emails a little bit too much," and stressing that it's only one person (as if that somehow makes the shit he said to him OK). But Mike obviously doesn't like this guy (who can blame him?), and asks to be removed from his mailing list despite the unapologetic apology.

And here's where Mr. Bigwig truly shines, shitting on Mike's website, and overtly threatening to put his 125 person marketing team "on a smear campaign of you and your site and your emails." (Shit just got real.)

All things considered, I think Mike's best option under the circumstance was to go public. For one, the legal authorities probably wouldn't do a damn thing about Mr. Bigwig's threats of launching an all-out smear campaigns, and I'm sure Mike was a little scared about it, as well as angry. I think preemptively going public with the emails was a smart defensive strategy on his part. He was simply utilizing a resource at his disposal.

From a purely strategic point of view, having the solidarity and support of his readers put him in a much stronger position, one where he felt safer. It's the exact same principle behind unions and other kinds of organizations, i.e., alone, you're at a disadvantage against your employer or whomever; but together, workers or whomever have the strength to address grievances, bargain, be protected from threats by someone more powerful, etc.

In this situation, I find nothing wrong or unethical about what Mike did — who was not only trying to stand up for the 'little guy,' but protect his own career and reputation — and I'd probably do the same thing if I were his position. That said, I do think that putting an end this would be the more skillful thing to do.

Mr. Bigwig has been publicly shamed and lost his position that got him into this mess; Dave, the archetypal 'lowly, individual consumer' has won a victory over the 'condescending corporate bigwig'; and Mike doesn't have to worry about being hit with a massive, corporate smear campaign—at least not by Mr. Bigwig, who's now just a humbled and humiliated Paul at this point.

To encourage any further actions against Paul at this point is, in my mind, excessive; and lowers the probability that Paul will take this whole experience as a 'lesson learned' and grow from it. Instead, he'll very likely continue to feel persecuted (because he is) and become even bitterer about the whole affair, which won't help Mike, Dave, or anyone else for that matter.

That's my unenlightened two cents, anyway.

salo

I watched Pier Paolo Pasolini's last film, Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom, tonight. The genius of Salo is also its downfall and why it was banned in several countries. It's one of those films that, if we let it, succeed in forcing us to confront what we fear the most—the evil that lurks in the depths of the human heart, a horror that's all the more terrifying because it's real.

It was tough to watch. But, after thinking about it and learning a little bit about the director and the book it was loosely based on when I got home, I quickly started to appreciate what it does and how it was made. Movies like this make me want to get more into film theory, which I generally scoff at. It's horrible, yet there are so many genius elements in it that I can't help but admire such a vile thing.

Much of Salo's intensity stems from the unflinching way it addresses the darker side of humanity, the side that enjoys and even revels in the vilest of human transgressions; the side that has the ability to derive pleasure from indulging in what Freud called the 'death drive,' with its psychological pressure towards self-destruction and death arising out of a seeming "urge inherent in organic life to restore an earlier [i.e., inorganic] state of things."

In this, Salo exceeds in showing us too much; it takes us over the edge with its stylistic parade of nihilistic sex, violence, and depravity; often all three at the same time. It shows us the kinds of dehumanizing monsters we can truly be, while the entire time wearing a human face. It shows us the extent with which we can desensitize ourselves to even the most extreme acts of violence and cruelty, particularly when continually escalated and viewed over time—one horror becoming so common that another, more extreme horror must take its place in order to produce the same levels of shock, revulsion, and excitement.

Worst of all, in the midst of the film's climax, where the crescendo of torture, rape, and murder become the focal point of overt voyeurism, we're forced to realize, if we can allow our shocked psyche to reflect upon the construction of the scene itself, that by the very act of watching this film, we've become voyeurs ourselves, and have unwittingly allowed ourselves to be entertained by the very same acts of violence — even if not in the exact same way — that we abhor.

It can be difficult, especially if you are extremely sensitive to scenes of graphic sexual violence and degradation like I am, to fully appreciate the masterful way in which this film explores its themes, from the psychology of fascism and the dangers of passivity to the growing ills of bourgeois society we'd rather ignore. But if you can see beyond its nonchalant brutality, you'll find something deeply disturbing yet brilliant, an existential social commentary that doesn't pull a single fucking punch.

merry christmas, comrades

You know, if you think about, the modern-day version of Santa Claus is not unlike a Gilded Age industrialist, a philanthropic, fantasyland robber baron. He's essentially an imaginary, white, 'chubby and plump' old man who 'employs' an entire race of other imaginary beings in some frozen, unregulated tundra sweatshop to make the gifts he then gives and gets all the credit/cookies and milk for. Maybe some class-conscious kid should slip a copy of the Communist Manifesto in with their letter next year, because I bet Santa doesn't bother to read them all himself: "Let Santa Claus tremble at a Communistic revolution. Santa's helpers have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win. Elves of the world, unite!"

At least I think it's funny. Merry Christmas, comrades. :)

the complexity of freedom, part deux

Average, working-class people are usually shocked and outraged by stories about sweatshops and child labour, like the recent allegations surrounding the Kardashian clothing lines, as I think they should be. But few realize that global capitalism thrives upon, and even logically defends, this kind of exploitation, generally utilizing the classic 'it's better than the alternative, like x' defense that's perfectly exemplified here by Prof. Ben Powell:



"Hey, eating this turd on a bun with mustard is WAY better than just eating a plain ol' turd; and since you're starving and have no other options but these two turds I'm offering you, I think the better choice is obvious."

Some, like Prof. Powell, at least have the balls to admit that they unambiguously support sweatshops and child labour. However, it often seems to be the case that, instead of being forced to confront and potentially question the logic of a system where the road to higher wages and better working conditions is paved with sweatshops and child labour, free-market advocates and capitalist apologists in general find it easier to simply gloss over the problem, or else blame it on specific offenders, like China, rather than the 'invisible hand' that guides production in global capitalism and directs "industry in such a manner as its produce may be of the greatest value."

And this is how 'freedom' (e.g., of the market) can actually be used to justify exploitation, which is precisely the argument George Monbiot makes in his recent article in the Guardian.

the complexity of freedom

George Monbiot makes an interesting yet surprisingly little-made point about the one-sidedness of many of the pro-free market arguments about freedom, i.e., that the state isn't the only entity or social institution that intrudes on our liberties:

This bastardised libertarianism makes 'freedom' an instrument of oppression

As a result, it also begins to reveal some of the underlying contradictions that are rarely brought to the surface in these superficially seductive arguments about freedom and liberty, e.g., there's obvious tension between freedom and equality, where complete freedom doesn't necessarily lead to equality when some have the freedom to exploit, oppress, or otherwise take advantage of others because of their particular situation in life, and where full equality means potentially limiting or even denying some their freedom to do things that negatively impact others.

It's contradictions like these, for example, that the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution attempt to balance to varying degrees of success. Definitely broadens the argument, I think.

tax inequality

Ian Ayres, a professor of law at Yale, and Aaron S. Edlin, a professor of law and economics at UC Berkeley have an interesting idea on how to "to end the continued erosion of economic equality in our nation" with a "tax that would limit the after-tax incomes of this club to 36 times the median household income":

Don’t Tax the Rich. Tax Inequality Itself.

I'd certainly support something like this — with the caveat that the revenue generated from this new tax be expressly allocated to social welfare programs like food stamps, low-income housing, Medicaid, Pell grants, and unemployment insurance — especially in combination with a modest 0.25% tax on stock trades and a 0.02% tax on the purchase of credit default swaps (raising an estimated $100-150 billion per year according to economists Dean Baker, Robert Pollin, and Marc Schaberg), and getting rid of the Bush tax cuts (netting an additional $72 billion per year according to Citizens for Tax Justice).

All these things together in conjunction with targeted spending cuts not only have the potential to help limit the rising rate of income inequality, but to help reduce the deficit that everyone's been squawking so much about recently, as well.

how the austerity class rules washington

Just read an interesting article in the Nation about the rise of the 'austerity class,' and the growing popularity of deficit reduction measures in political discourse:

How the Austerity Class Rules Washington

The way I see it, the inherent contradictions within capitalism that give rise to crises always seem to put government into a tricky position. On the one hand, it makes sense, especially from the point of view of a household, to have a 'balanced budget,' i.e., to be 'austere' today and save any discretionary income for future hardships, invest it for future returns, or both. And, utilizing this rather 'common sense logic,' people want their government to be 'responsible' and have a balanced budget just like any household should.

The problem is that, if everyone is saving and investing on a national scale (i.e., not consuming), or if they have little in the way of discretionary income to begin with, especially in the midst of an economic downturn, higher unemployment will result due to lack of demand, and the value of any investments will be greatly reduced since no one's consuming the products being produced. When this inevitably happens, people begin to scream at the government to do something, which either means some kind of conservative austerity plan to reduce spending and increase investments, or some kind of liberal stimulus plan to promote aggregate demand and boost employment.

Unfortunately, neither solution can eliminate the contradictions within capitalism that naturally lead to boom and bust cycles and financial crises; but the latter makes far more sense to me in that it helps boost employment, which further stimulates demand and speeds recovery, and doesn't come at the expense of people who need help the most in the form of cuts to things like food stamps, low-income housing, Medicaid, Pell grants, and unemployment insurance, which is precisely the kind of spending conservative austerity plans tend to target.