Man In A Panic

Maybe Baby

I'd never encountered 'Evite' in the UK, but it's the de facto social tool over here.  If you're organising a tea party/guitar-and-bongo-beach-outing/whooping sesh, the website helps facilitate the guestlist....so everyone can see who's said 'yes', 'no' or 'maybe' to some proposed fun.

This is not a good thing.

We all know that there're people who can make or break parties.  So if Ferris Bueller immediately tells the world that he's NOT going to your birthday party, you can expect to be all alone, weeping into a cake by 9pm. 

'Maybe' is, of course, the 'fuck-you' response.  It perfectly describes the all pervasive 'yeah-i'll-come-if-nothing-better-comes-along' social strategy of the mobile age.  More to the point, it renders Evite entirely pointless.  'Ah I see....all my friends might be going.....thanks Worldwide Interweb...I'd best wire them a telegram to check'.

I also suspect that Eviters take a register when you arrive at the 'event'. 

"Isaac?"
"Here!"
"Good...now get whooping"

Still, if you know the entire cast of the party before you arrive, at least you can pre-prepare witty 'chat-lite'.  I met a girl on Friday night with a tattooed face and a pet tarantula who had almost no interest in The Ashes at all.

Bowling v No Friends

"HEY JONATHAN, YOU JUST GOTTA JOIN THE BOWLING LEAGUE...IT'S JUST LIKE, SOOOO MUCH FUN AND IS LIKE SOOOO THE BEST WAY TO MEET PEOPLE AT THE AGENCY.  IT'S LIKE, IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE BOWLING LEAGUE, YOU'RE LIKE A RETARD, RIGHT?"

I won't sleep for nights on end pondering this. 

Were your playground days ever brightened by the game 'Or Else You'd Die', where you'd be presented with two equally unpalatable options on pain of death? - for instance, 'Would you rather eat your mum's head or stick pins in your cat's eyes ELSE YOU'D DIE....?!'

Well noone told me that Californians play this for real. 

So that's Social Ostracism v Weekly Big Boy Skittles. 

Bugger.

To be frank, I can't write this now.  I need to pace around and smoke and drink and worry.  And then dream about hurling a cannon ball down a death slide to a Bon Jovi soundtrack.

What on earth shall I do?

Go Go Tourist

from Millenium People by J.G.Ballard:

 

"Tourism is the great soporific.  It's a huge confidence trick and gives people the dangerous idea that there's something interesting in their lives.  It's musical chairs in reverse.  Every time the muzak stops people stand up and dance around the world, and more chairs are added to the circle, more marinas, more Marriott hotels, so everyone thinks they're winning.

It's a con.  Today's tourist goes nowhere.  All the upgrades in existence lead to the same airports and resort hotels, the same pina colada bullshit.  The tourists smile at their tans and their shiny teeth and think they're happy.  But the suntans hide who they really are - salary slaves, with heads full of American rubbish.  Travel is the last fantasy the 20th Century left us, the delusion that going somewhere helps you reinvent yourself. There's nowhere to go. The planet is full.  You might as well stay at home and spend the money on chocolate fudge."

Well Mr.Ballard hasn't reckoned on the GoCar, has he readers?  I'm definitely planning to hire one, but only once i know people all over the city - afterall, I wouldn't want complete strangers pointing and laughing at me.

“It's a tour guide…a talking car…a trusty co-pilot…and a local on wheels. It’s like a ride at Disneyworld, except you are in control - and it’s not a theme park, it’s a city.”  Actual tourist comment from BBC Radio Scotland interview

Ace.  Come visit so we can share the joy.

To Blog Or Not To Blog

I'm having second thoughts about this thing.

With apologies to Dave and his Triforce mates, the Wright Brothers of all things interweb, I'm something of a blogging pioneer in my social whirlpool. 

Well now that a number of you have had a quick read (along with 39 strangers), your responses fall into three broad categories.

1. Nice one fella - good to know what you're up to in San Francisco.  (Have you turned gay yet? etc etc...)

2. Oooo mate - that's all a bit weird innit.  I feel like I'm hotwired into your sock drawer.  Stop staring at the computer and go and make some friends, you freak.  Have you turned gay or something?

3. I don't understand - what am i meant to do?  What do you mean 'click on it'?  HOLY SHIT - what's this thing that looks like a telly with a typewriter attached?  Nanu nanu....can you hear me?  Can you SEE me?!

but my favourite so far reads:

'Hey Jon!

Lovely to hear from you.  Enjoyed the link you sent me.  So what have you been up to out there?  Any stories to tell yet?

XXXXX xx'

(that's 5 X's to preserve anonymity and two kisses, not 5 big kisses and 2 pecks on the cheek)

I do agree that there's something awkward about individual blogs - the 'too-much-information' syndrome.  It's like I've just started cheerily wearing leather chaps in polite company. 

Perhaps it's because a clear social etiquette is yet to emerge around blogging technology?  Some of you recoil because you feel like diary snoopers....but this isn't a personal diary, it's an evolving public postcard.  Relax - I'm not going to talk about feelings or anything.

The World Wide Interweb - where anyone can be famous..not for 15 minutes but for 15 people.

Any thoughts?

There's No Problem I Can Handle

The Onion is by far the most sensible and incisive newspaper available here.

This column made me smile on the cable car this morning.

Caught In A Web

You can't do anything in San Francisco without using Craigslist, the global listings site that was born here.  If you're looking for a flat, piano lessons, a ping pong partner or...er....an exchange of services, then everyone points you to the same place.

Inevitably, someone's now made a documentary about it, thrillingly entitled 24 Hours On Craigslist.  I can't be arsed to go and see it because the reviews aren't great and, besides, the ads are entertaining enough on their own.  Which begs the question - what does it mean that thousands of people now read classified ads for entertainment?  Does it create a sense of possibility or disappointment, the nagging sense that you should be doing more with your life than you actually are?  Personally I think it's great because I get into hobbies for about a week at a time - so I'm currently half-heartedly investigating flying lessons, vietnamese cooking courses and second hand hammond organs. 

I'm actually slightly bitter because we had a similar idea during my time at the BBC, before the powers-that-be decided to invest the money instead in strangling the 'Home Makeover' concept further...before beating it to death, plucking out its eyes, setting fire to it and burying it under a new patio (with decking).

Who Do I Thank For This?

  prezzie.jpg 
  Originally uploaded by jonnyeye.

So NINE books have just landed on my desk - all of them marketing/advertising related and most of them with face-rippingly irritating titles like 'Purple Cow - Transform Your Business By Being Remarkable'. This is not about me trying to GET AHEAD IN ADVERTISING but about being a victim of the Amazon 'One Click' ordering system where, if you so much as breathe on your keyboard at the wrong moment, they post you half the British library. Fuckers.

And, obviously, because each of the books has come from a different Amazon vendor, Lloyds TSB have charged me a quid each time for every 'overseas transaction'. Fuckers.

Still, my office bookshelf is looking much perkier. Did you know that Harrods will now sell you libraries 'by the yard'? So you phone up and say 'Yeah, I'd like a couple of yards of impressive looking red hardbacks and a yard of must-read modern poetry please...' and they bring it round in a big lorry.

In a similar vein, you can also now send your Ipod off to be filled with cutting edge tunes by someone cooler than you. I might choose to buy some good taste myself soon.  Or maybe you lot could make some suggestions for the 'For My Ears' section on the left there...

ANYWAY, the point of this post is to try and identify my mystery present sender - this morning I was delighted to recieve, from Amazon, a Spanish version of Herman Hesse's 'Siddharta', a book called 'California and The South West' and a map of the Golden State. It was all beautifully gift wrapped but gave no clues as to who it was from. Please OWN UP so I can thank you properly.

Talking of platitudes, Californians really are effusive. How's this for an order confirmation email:

"Thank you for your purchase. Your order is on it's way. We hope you are satisfied in every way with this transaction. We are so grateful to you for choosing to shop with us. If you are at all unhappy please contact us right away and we will try to correct the situation if possible. Thank you once again."

That was for a copy of 'On Bullshit' by Harry G. Frankfurt.

Decompression

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Originally uploaded by jonnyeye.

I spent Sunday at the Burning Man Decompression festival here in San Francisco which was absolutely brilliant.

Some shoddy photos can be found in the left hand column or on my Flickr site.

Cameras were banned which seemed slightly ridiculous.  This might have been to protect the modesty of the dudes who decided to come naked, or the Japanese rope bondage artistes...or even to safegaurd the blueprints for all the incredible, enormous dancing robots that made up the numbers.....but I reckon it's really just so that the organisers can flog 'official snaps'....all very odd given the ethos of the Burning Man community.

For those that aren't familiar with the loony festival in the desert, you can do your Burning Man research here.

Anyway, never mind - I sneaked in my trusty Pentax Optio S5i and shot from the hip.  I was too busy having fun to take many good shots though.

Best of all was the installation you see above. It's difficult to describe, but that's a 15 foot high ceramic head onto which the faces of anyone-who-wanted-a-go was projected....the effect was a huge human head floating in the dark reading poetry/singing songs/gurning.  Think Bohemian Rhapsody but loads, loads better. If I was a theatre or gig producer, I'd be ripping off this idea immediately... 

Download IMGP3981.AVI

Having never been to Burning Man, I now can't wait.  I've heard naysayers bemoaning its recent success/commercialisation (EVERYTHING YOU LIKE I LIKED TEN YEARS AGO!)...but they're probably the ones who told me that Ibiza and Glastonbury 'just aren't worth it anymore' before I had two of the best weekends of my life in those places.  So I'll be buying tickets to Burning Man in the New Year - who's in?!

The only downside of this day out was that, amidst all the fabulously dressed funsters, I'd (unwittingly) chosen to wear jeans and brown knitwear.  Next time, I plan to be a participant rather than an observer, even if I was seeing in 3D

Whooping Blue Angels

wild blue yonder
Originally uploaded by prima momma.

Californians love to whoop.  They whoop in cinemas, restaurants and when something exciting happens on public transport.

To be honest, I never thought I had one (a whoop) in me.  But then I spent yesterday standing on the roof of my apartment, gazing out over San Francisco bay and being assaulted by the US Airforce. 

I never thought I liked airshows but this was AWESOME! The sheer majesty of an F-16 fighter performing aerial ballet against one of the worlds most beautiful backdrops got the better of me.  And as a fighter jet screamed down the highstreet, up and over my building and barrel-rolled over Golden Gate Bridge, something bubbled up in my stomach and I heard a familiar voice go:

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP WHOOOOOOOOP WHOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

Best of all, noone batted an eyelid, even when I punched the air.

I'm going to have to work hard to maintain my cynical London outlook - all this sunshine is ruining me.

That said, I'm happy to report that the Blue Angels aren't quite as dandy as our Red Arrows.  Our boys do the coloured smoke thing better...although that might have something to do with Californian anti-smoking laws.  You wouldn't want a jogger getting a lungful of red smoke, even if it was once heart shaped.

As a display of military power, the airshow was awe-inspiring.  I can only imagine how terrifying it is to have F-16s circling your city in anger - the noise alone could threaten a clean pair of white pants.  Quite at odds with peace-loving San Francisco, then.....and I'm sure they burnt a lot of non-renewable fossil fuels....but a marvellous event nonetheless.

Good Vibrations

I nearly whooped again at a fashion show for ‘emerging talent’ on Friday night.  I'm not sure if they meant the designers or the 16 year old models on show.  Either way, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it.  Obviously the clothes were absurd, but the music and lighting created a charged atmosphere.

Most bizarre was the sponsorship of the evening by Elexa, a Californian manufacturer of ‘adult leisure products’.  Spotting girls circulating with silver trays, I joined the scrum in the hope of a free cocktail, only to be handed a complimentary vibrating cock ring.  Needless to say, I was buzzing in the cab all the way home.