Lily Salter's Blog, page 971
October 25, 2015
Welcome to the new Jim Crow: Michelle Alexander is right — our justice system doubles as a racial caste system
In the second installment of this 2-part series, Sean Beaudoin and Meg Worden discuss the prison system in America in a broader sense, looking at incarceration as a highly intentional system of control, as well as a rarely-examined political philosophy. Meg Worden spent 2 years in a Federal prison camp for conspiracy to distribute MDMA. SB: We could spend this entire interview talking about all the ways in which America is a fantastic place to live. Instead, we’re here to try and grapple with the fact that our country also operates what is essentially a for-profit penal gulag. Even worse, it exists, without pretense or apology, in the midst of a populace that is indifferent toward, or entirely ignorant of it. MW: Yes. I suppose. I’m not sure I’m firmly in the camp of fantastic, and more precariously in the camp of feeling so inundated by freedom propaganda in the face of a rising police state. I believe in holding on to hope, however. The ignorance is waning. We have the ability to communicate across a huge platform with immediacy. Our technology allows us to look into locations and lives where we ordinarily would never have access. We finally had a president visit a prison (outrageous that it has never happened before) and he made some compelling and compassionate statements about the need for changes in the system. Seeing leadership give the situation a nod, versus a tone deaf and myopic tough-on-crime stance, was hopeful. We still have a very long way to go to get to humane institutions that protect and rehabilitate without regard for class or race. Perhaps the insane costs of our penal system is tipping the scales towards reformation. SB: I’d like to avoid statistics as much as possible, if only because everyone seems to have their own set, but before we go any further, we need some baseline context. Depending on your source, (mine, for sake of non-partisanship, is the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics, or BJS), we have the world’s largest prison population (more than China and Russia combined), as well as the highest per-capita incarceration rate. We have somewhere around 2.5 million people incarcerated in Federal and State prisons. There are around 75,ooo juveniles also incarcerated. So, somewhere around 1 in 100 Americans are currently in jail, a vast majority for non-violent offenses. MW: Yes. These statistics are pretty accurate to what I’ve read also. And it’s not like they’re hidden in the depths of some university research facility, they’re all over the Internet, often with infographics, videos, and lists that put us above countries we consider being “Third World.” There are so many facets feeding this system, from economic imbalance, lack of quality available healthcare and housing, underfunded schools, and unreasonable drug laws, it’s hard to know where one could even find an inroad into change that wouldn’t collapse in on itself. In addition to the problems for the people in the system, the people outside of it are taught that it is working and they don’t need to pay attention. There’s a lot of “don’t look at the man behind the curtain” going on. Unless it touches a person personally, or someone a person personally knows — and many times stigma keeps those people silent about their experiences — it is easy not to think about. They imagine it’s working fine, that it’s a problem politicians will effectively solve. I think at our core we still believe someone up there has our well-being at heart. SB: We have 5% of the world’s population and 25% of its inmates, which should lead us to conclude that American Exceptionalism turns out to be about the high quality of our criminal underclass. Or that, as a culture, we have officially fetishized punishment. MW: Or we have fetishized victimization and normalized isolation. Barring actual personal responsibility to protect citizens, the definition of justice seems to have morphed into the near-obsessive need to hold someone accountable for each and every grievance. The promise to the “victim” is that the incarceration or death of those responsible will eradicate the pain of their loss – a fact actually proven erroneous. This functions to the such an egregious extent that an entire race and class of people (white, wealthy) has set themselves apart from the “criminal element” in order to isolate from the perpetrator paradigm and retain power by maintaining assumed victimization. It’s myopic and nonsensical, and so deeply entrenched into the “white lie” that it’s invisible to the children being raised with the narrative of entitlement. “You can do or be anything you want if only you work hard enough” just doesn’t apply across the board. SB: I just read a statistic that there are more black men in prison right now then there were enslaved in 1850. African Americans make up 13.6 percent of the population, but account for 40.2 percent of all prison inmates. I don’t see how it’s possible for any rational person not to conclude that prisons in America are part of a calculated system of social control, and that system is motivated by hierarchies of race and class. MB: The evidence is pretty overwhelming. Not long ago I read the book The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander which makes a compelling case for the organization of our justice system as a racial caste system. The War on Drugs particularly targeted unemployed, inner city inhabitants who are primarily of color. There is ample evidence that drug usage and crime is not skewed heavily towards any particular race of people, while drug sweeps, patrols, random searches, and use of force absolutely are. SB: The influx of drugs that mysteriously flooded the inner cities during Vietnam, combined with a huge upswing in arrests and changes in sentencing laws effectively dismantled the black and Latino political movements of the 70’s. The inequity in the sentencing structure between crack and powdered cocaine in the 80’s continued a premeditated and highly effective system of social control of a potentially volatile community, while also meting out absurdly long sentences for a particular underclass, simply because they couldn’t afford a higher-quality drug. Decades of injustice later, these guidelines are finally being amended by the Obama administration. MW: The inequity of the sentencing guidelines between different drug classes absolutely has a history of racism. The result of guidelines that put sentencing for crack at virtually one hundred times that for powder cocaine was the product of runaway populism around politicians vying to appear toughest on crime. Somewhat related: I didn’t know until the recent legalization of cannabis in my state that even the name “marijuana” is a name made up by the U.S. to sound Mexican. It isn’t even a Spanish word. Just a tool to blame a population of people for corruption and remove their rights, particularly as a voting block, but also as neighbors, business and property owners, and community members. The oppression of people of color is epic, and so very tired. SB: Since 1989, 1,655 convictions have been reversed nationwide, a great majority of them for black and Latino males. Either it’s a massive coincidence that bad convictions are disproportionately levied against people of color, or our justice system is intentionally levied against people of color. MW: At this point it’s pretty hard to argue that the disproportionate amount of convictions period are levied against people of color. There are far more people of color incarcerated for crimes that are equally, or often less, prevalent in their communities than white communities. The real difference is the amount of police surveillance, random searching, and arrest quota motivation in certain neighborhoods. SB: Given that the fifteenth Amendment (passed just after the end of the Civil War) precludes convicted felons from voting, and having a record makes it extremely difficult for any former convict to get a decent job, the American penal system has very deliberately rendered many African American men non-citizens. MB: Considering the importance of democracy, ownership, family, and the ability to earn a viable income as markers of relevant personhood in our culture, the penal system has actually rendered many African American men non-human. Targeted as “dangerous” from their teen years, swept into the system, rendered powerless to care for themselves and their families, they are then crucified in the media as absentee fathers, creating unstable family units that breed more crime. It’s truly horrifying, how the human psyche can be so blind when their own lives are not at stake. The consequences of standing up to this kind of injustice makes people appear to favor violence and corruption versus peace. Everyone wants to belong to the side of right. Social acceptance is at stake and it holds great weight. SB: The Reagan administration, along with the Republican party at large, managed to de-fund and essentially gut the national mental health care system during the 80’s, dumping thousands of severely mentally ill onto the streets. Many of these people ended up in prison, forcing the prison system to act as de-facto institutions warehousing people with psychological problems, without addressing any of their theraputic or pharmacological needs. Which in turn forces guards to interact with people they are untrained to diagnose or respond to, as well as forcing inmates to deal with unpredictable and highly unstable presences in their midst. MW: Years ago I was in a writing group with one of the chief psychiatrists at a men’s federal medical facility — famous for being the place where John Gotti died. There were inmates there assigned on the basis of their proximity to family, but was also a place where the elderly came to die, and the severest cases of mental illness were warehoused, really. Like you said. His stories could have been fictional horror, these people, inadequately cared for, suffering invisibly behind a landscaped facade because of a legitimate lack of alternatives. Even in the camp where I was, the need for mental health care was overwhelming compared to the staff available to treat inmates, rendering much of the efforts superficial. I was one of the very few fortunate people to access private therapy and I got really lucky. My psychologist was enthusiastic and compassionate. But again, I was able to seek out a thing that I was aware of, a thing I understood how to pursue. There were only a small handful of us getting this kind of care. SB: One of the memes of the 80’s that still hasn’t left us, along the lines of “bomb them back to the stone age” or “America: love it or leave it” was “Lock ‘em up and throw away the key.” It has always seemed bizarre to me that the notion of endless incarceration is never rebutted by a very simple statistic: 90% of all people convicted will eventually be released. At no point is any consideration given to the fact that locking someone in a cage with other desperate people for years on end, with no attempt to address issues of education, addiction, abuse, or rehabilitation, in many cases means returning convicts to society in worse condition than they entered, a very real threat to those who think mass incarceration makes them safer. MW: And, in fact, the increased crime rate and detriment to society that comes along with 700,000 people being released each year, who, on account of their unemployability will either remain unemployed, or return to crime to support themselves. Often, because of the time nonviolent offenders spent with violent offenders, the nature of the crimes increase rather than decrease. The penal system is creating a need for itself with a proven record of inefficacy. Our brains love to grab hold of a narrative and promptly forget to stay awake to its truth. “Lock them up and throw away the key” is a handy way to exist in a precarious world where there is more to gain from distancing oneself from the actions of a perpetrator, than finding a connection, and doing the far more complex work of curiosity, compassion, and integration. Empathy is completely absent in a culture that deifies the material successes of the individual. SB: I have started to think of myself of a determinist, by which I mean, I don’t believe in Free Will. I think all of us do exactly what we would have done in any particular circumstance, based on a combination of our genetic makeup, personal history, and physical characteristics. When I’ve expressed this notion in the past, those that disagree invariably say that acknowledging a lack of Free Will strips us of personal responsibility, which is the first step to the eventual breakdown of society. For one thing, I think the perception that we have Free Will acts as an emollient, probably evolutionary, that protects us from immediately choosing a nihilistic path. Second, I still believe that we are all responsible for the genetic and environmental (sometimes lucky, often neutral or unfortunate) hand that we have been dealt, regardless. I bring this up because it obviously has great implications in terms of the criminal justice system. Being born into poverty, or amid constant violence, or with neural deficiencies in impulse control, compassion, or aggression, will vastly increase the chance that you will spend a significant part of your life in a cage. MW: I am not one who is going to argue with your determinism. It is a fact that while our prisons house a few people who are legitimate perpetrators whose incarceration protects others, the majority of its inhabitants are, themselves, victims of a significant structural failing of support systems. It is also a fact that, on account of the unequal rates at which some communities are imprisoned versus others, those communities with higher rates of arrest have come to accept the inevitability of serving time, and in that acceptance, they relax their standards of ethics as well as create something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Prison time is even a right of passage now for some of the more heavily targeted populations. In order for prison to be an effective deterrent to crime, one has to believe that the system works, that imprisonment is avoidable, that it is something to be avoided. SB: Alright, tell me what you think of the death penalty. MW: I think the death penalty is a barbaric act of hubris. It’s expensive, requires decades of housing before it’s enacted, and proven to provide little to no solace to victims. And, of course, death row is populated disproportionately by poor people of color. One of my favorite things I’ve ever had the opportunity to do is to hear Sister Helen Prejean (most well known for the portrayal of her anti-death penalty activism in the movie Dead Man Walking). I cried through the whole talk. SB: I certainly think there are people who commit such heinous acts that they have basically forfeited their right to continue breathing. So in that sense, I am pro-death penalty. Jeffrey Dahmer, for instance, did not need to continue breathing air. Neither did Timothy McVeigh. The problem is that I also don’t believe we are capable, either as individuals, a society, a culture, or as arbiters of punishment, to always make the correct decision about who should or shouldn’t be tried under death penalty statutes, or how that death should be administered. And I don’t think we ever will be. In that sense, I am 100% against the death penalty, mainly because we cannot be trusted with it. How many death penalty cases has Barry Sheck’s Innocence Project overturned through the use of new DNA testing technology? How many poor men of color were put to death unjustly over the last sixty years because this technology didn’t exist then? I think the death penalty should be abolished immediately, or at least until we are technologically generations ahead of where we are now. MW: The ability to decide who lives and who dies is inherently fraught, and the reality of the death penalty, even when “deserved,” is decades of being housed on death row before execution. The current format is inefficient and ethically problematic. SB: Most countries view solitary confinement as torture. We use it randomly and widely as a systemic method of control. Were you ever in solitary? Did others you served time with view it as an unbearable punishment? Did you happen to read about Robert King, who was part of the Angola Three, who spent almost thirty years (!) in solitary confinement, only to have his sentence eventually overturned? MW: Yes. I heard about him. Solitary confinement is uncontested in the world of psychology for it’s irreversible and detrimental effects on humans. Babies that don’t get held will die. Humans need contact. It’s also incredibly disturbing to me that I can’t find an actual statistic on how many inmates are in solitary confinement right now in our country. The numbers range from 25,000-80,000. That seems like way too vague of an answer, with way too great a portion of our population enduring irrevocable damage to their psyche. I didn’t experience solitary confinement. Our low security prison camp sent women to the county jail for segregation and punishment. I stayed out of trouble and, after moving through county jail on my initial journey to prison, didn’t go back. While I was in county jail, we were on nearly complete lock down. I’m sure it’s better to have other humans around when you can’t see or go outside, but being in constant close proximity to so many other people has its own set of challenges. Once a week, we went to a small, filthy concrete room that had vents instead of glass windows, but we still couldn’t see out. That was our recreating time. One hour a week. I called that room the “Pet Carrier.” I really don’t know how people survive solitary. Or, if they really do. There is just so little reformative structure in the experience of incarceration. SB: Rape in prison continues to be a punchline in books and comedy routines and certain types of films, a sort of shrugging admission that sexual assault, or the fear of it, is an unspoken component of any given sentence. What conclusions have you drawn about sexual violence as an element of control, and the role of gender in single-sex environments? MW: Some of the same people are able to decry rape culture on campus and, in practically the same breath, casually laugh at prison rape. It’s definitely more common when talking about men’s prisons where it is also more of a problem, and carries a greater stigma where male homosexuality is concerned. As if the people it happens to are weak and deserving of such a thing — the absolute loss of power and control over life and body. Female prison sex seems to end up being the stuff of pornography. Clearly, a different vibe. Not less dangerous, but possibly considered more consensual? Less about power and violence? The threat of rape in my prison was negligent, but the desire of inmates to partner intimately and in a sexual fashion was high. It was fascinating to watch the fluidity of gender in the single-sex environment — the way that relationshipping as both a basic human need, as well as a coping mechanism for co-dependence, was activated for different people. It was a spectrum of choices just like on the outside, but women only, so deviations in people’s gender identities were, perhaps, further pronounced in a place where there was less distraction or judgement. Of course, when we start talking about human sexuality and gender identification anywhere the conversation is consistently individual. Prison seemed to distill and isolate this phenomena, as it did so many things about human interaction. This topic could easily be a book-length conversation. I wish there was more awareness. It’s really hard to bear the rape jokes. Those men/people have feelings, fears, often a fragile sense of self, and they are the sons, brothers, fathers, and friends of people just like anyone else. No one deserves to be raped. Rape is never, ever, okay. SB: The case could be made the prisons are a perpetual self-sustaining machine that actually provide zero deterrent effect. In other words, crimes can be identified and prosecuted to fill every cell, and the actual number has no relevance–cells will be filled regardless, because profit can be made regardless. MW: This is an excellent summary of the current prison system. The inclusion of prisons in a capitalistic economy is inhumane and oxymoronic. The current model of crime deterrence is sustained by continued crime. I feel like we could draw parallels here to healthcare in the U.S. as well. Iatrogeny at its finest. SB: Can you tell us in terms of your personal experience about the long-term psychological effects of incarceration, punishment, stigmatization, and regret– how these things are taken into effect as it relates to a particular crime, and what the price for that crime ultimately ends up being? MW: I stand by the notion that it is miraculous when someone makes it through the system and is able to function at all. For the first few months out of prison I couldn’t sleep in the bed (I slept on the floor because it was harder), go into large, brightly lit stores, hear the sound of keys, or stop feeling like I was constantly being watched. Even a decade after release, I have sensory input sensitivities, symptoms of PTSD such as nightmares, anxiety, memory loss. I am irrationally nervous in government buildings, around law enforcement or security officers, manage depression, and the constant threat of re-stigmatization every time I have to fill out an application for a rental property or professional license. This is one of the primary reasons I am self employed. I struggle regularly in ways that are directly related to the (relatively) short time I spent inside, and I have a lot of privileges not afforded to others. I feel both incredibly lucky, and also incredibly sad. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about the people that don’t have even a sliver of a chance at sustainable freedom. The powerlessness is oppressive to the point of defeat. SB: Okay, let’s conclude by talking about rates of recidivism, and the huge number of obstacles –against all logic–placed in front of people who have served time successfully reentering society. MW: I can’t seem to find much past a 2005 study which might be indicative in itself, but can’t imagine there has been a decrease in rates considering the bulging inmate population nationwide. From the Bureau of Justice website: In 2005, when 404,638 prisoners in 30 states tracked after their release from prison, the researchers found that: Within three years of release, about two-thirds (67.8 percent) of released prisoners were rearrested. Within five years of release, about three-quarters (76.6 percent) of released prisoners were rearrested. Of those prisoners who were rearrested, more than half (56.7 percent) were arrested by the end of the first year. Property offenders were the most likely to be rearrested, with 82.1 percent of released property offenders arrested for a new crime compared with 76.9 percent of drug offenders, 73.6 percent of public order offenders and 71.3 percent of violent offenders. And concerning the huge number of illogical obstacles, they are countless and enmeshed in every single activity of the day, which most people take for granted. From the near impossibility of finding realistic sources of income, to the crippled ability of many to organize their own time in a world that is wildly chaotic compared to prison. The expectations of integration are out-sized, unsupported, and appear to serve the revolving door business model of prisons versus the health of individuals that should be allowed to care for families, neighbors, and contribute to the economy and the direction of our country’s government. We have more of our citizens incarcerated per capita than any other nation in the world. And somehow we still call ourselves free. [image error]
The real genius of “Sweet Jane”: The 2 little letters out of Lou Reed’s mouth that say so much
"Loaded," the Velvet Underground’s fourth album, released in November of 1970 and getting the grand box set treatment next Friday to mark its 45th anniversary, was the last to feature Lou Reed. It was also the last Velvet Underground album I bought and listened to on my quest — 15 years after its original release, and in the flush of my teen rock-geek years — to own every note this band every recorded. For some reason, "Loaded" was the hardest one to track down. (I know it’s difficult to imagine not being able to locate a record these days, but it was 1985.) I knew as I scoured the bins that "Loaded" was the original home for a pair of Velvet Underground songs that had already taken on legendary status by the '80s, “Sweet Jane” and “Rock and Roll.” But the only version of “Sweet Jane” I'd heard at that point was the one off Lou Reed’s live album "Rock n’ Roll Animal," which was widely acknowledged as a way to place the irascible star back on the charts after he chose to follow up his breakthrough "Transformer" — which David Bowie and his late guitarist Mick Ronson crafted into a glitter-era sensation — with the dour, Bob Ezrin-produced "Berlin." Recorded at the Academy of Music with a shit-hot band around Christmas of ’73 and released the following February, "Rock n' Roll Animal" was indeed a big hit during an era when rock radio DJs had no fear of playing really (really) long songs. That live version of “Sweet Jane” comes with an extended intro — if you happened to turn in before those chords smashed down, you might think you were listening to Yes. But then there’s a wave of applause and Reed strolls onstage, and begins to sing in his tough monotone. He’s got bleached blonde hair and never takes off his extra dark aviators: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4VuH... Some years later I happened to hear the Jim Carroll Band’s version of the song which is (although I adore and once dyed my hair orange to emulate Carroll …) pretty weak. Worse, Reed appears in the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yerFI... "Catholic Boy," it ain’t. Even the mighty Mott the Hoople did another anemic version in ’72: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5UHI... I’d heard Jane’s Addiction’s slurry, meandering, percussive version of “Rock n’ Roll” before I ever heard the Velvets. But when I finally found a copy of "Loaded" in college, I realized what I had been missing. “Rock n’ Roll” was clear-eyed and true. Lou, his alter ego “Jenny” (not to mention Perry Farrell and me, too) were all misfits from Long Island where there was “nothing going down at all.” Despite all the complications, we could dance to the rock and roll (and the disco and the hip hop) station. I loved “Cool It Down” and “New Age” (which reminded me of Sylvia Miles and Joe Dallesandro’s affair in the Paul Morrissey-directed Warhol film "Heat"). “Lonesome Cowboy Bill” was kind of a throwaway, as was “Train Going Round the Bend,” but “I Found A Reason,” a gentle doo wop (later covered by Cat Power) and “Oh Sweet Nuthin’" (which has since found its way onto several soundtracks, including Stephen Frears’ "High Fidelity" and Sam Mendes’ "Away We Go") were stunners. But it was almost immediately clear to me what I had been truly missing all these years. “Sweet Jane” is the second song on the album, after the bubblegum sweet “Who Loves the Sun” (a showcase for Doug Yule, who replaced the more avant John Cale), and it begins with a guitar squiggle followed by those steady, wave-like chords (unmistakable in any version), and just like in the live "Rock n’ Roll Animal" version, Lou sings: “Standin’ on the corner, suitcase in my hand. Jack’s in his corset, Jane is in her vest and me I’m in a rock and roll band… Ha!” What makes the "Loaded" version life-changing and revelatory after such a long wait is that “Ha.” To me, that "ha" is everything: New York City, the art demimonde, the fact that most rock and rollers don’t hold down jobs too long except for those in rock and roll bands (and sometimes not even those), the fact that “standin’ on the corner” is cooler than anything you are doing, even if the suitcase is full of used books to sell at the Strand on Broadway. “Ha!” Where had you been all my life, “Ha”? If I asked Lou, he’d probably say … “Ha!” In fact, I’d had some occasion to ask Lou … two interviews. One in person where I, starving, had to watch him eat some kind of sauce-covered cutlet slowly while we discussed "Berlin." His manager was there — ask any rock writer (if you can find one these days) whether they want managers, publicists, record company people, wives, husbands, anyone who is not the rock star anywhere near the interview and see what they say. He would never admit to me where the “Ha” came from. He didn’t even fucking know where the “Ha” came from. Did he write it? Did he plan it? No. I don’t think so. “Ha!” “Sweet Jane” is not the same without it. The Velvets are not the same without it. Rock and Roll after 1970 is all about the “Ha.” Punk, new wave, reggae, outlaw country, is the “Ha!” I don’t care what you do, but me, (honey) I’m in a rock and roll band. The young today, I hope they know what to do with the “Ha,” since it’s so easy to hear and use now. It’s like cocaine. You used to have to know someone; now all you need is a code. Smack, you used to have to take a walk in the dark, and now you can have it sent over like a taco plate (I’ve heard). “Ha!” in the wrong hands is a dangerous thing. “Ha!” in my hands was a friend. That “Ha” and I are nearly the same age. It’s been there my whole life, waiting for me. And when I found it, my life was saved … by rock and roll. I can’t defend the author of that “Ha” or what it made him do. It’s been documented before and it’s about to be, now that he is gone, documented again and again in books and inevitably films. Lou was “a monster,” a bad man, a crank, a grouch, a sharp tongued, cranky, short-fused bastard — the Lou I met anyway, and apparently the Lou a lot of other people met, too — but I can’t help but think the “Ha” is his better and not his darker angel. He’d been chasing the “Ha!” He admitted as much. If he could have written “Sweet Jane” every time, he surely would have. Instead, he did "Metal Machine Music" and a bunch of hit and miss albums until 1989’s "New York," which landed him on the cover of Rolling Stone. Then he got pretentious again. I once attended a benefit show that advertised Lou, and I saw him get up, mumble some Poe and then shuffle off stage. “Ha!” Good cause, I guess, who can complain. I should probably also put in a word for the lost bridge. The “heavenly wine and roses…” bit that was as gorgeous as “Candy Says” and “Femme Fatale” but was inexplicably cut for space? (“Ha!” to you too, Lou, the label seemed to say.) The Cowboy Junkies' version was heroic in its restoration of that bridge, and they were rewarded with a big hit that college kids used to put on mix cassettes for each other in hopes of having sex. (Well, this college kid … “Ha!”) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4XVJ... There is also an utterly batshit version of "Sweet Jane" on the live "Take No Prisoners" album, in which Lou rails against rock critics and the hipster scene and just about everything else: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAnJb... The album is more of a stand-up routine than a live document, but as such it’s a lot better than most UCB grad bullshit. Lou was a lot of things, and one of them was seriously funny — Listen to “Ferryboat Bill” or “Andy’s Chest” if you doubt me. So happy birthday, "Loaded." Happy birthday, “Ha!” And rest in peace Lou, Jack, Jane, Jim … all the protest kids and, I don’t know … Taylor Mead. I hope you’re all tooling around in your Stutz Bearcat somewhere in the sky, high above the Empire State Building and the city and all its empty ghost corners. [image error]"Loaded," the Velvet Underground’s fourth album, released in November of 1970 and getting the grand box set treatment next Friday to mark its 45th anniversary, was the last to feature Lou Reed. It was also the last Velvet Underground album I bought and listened to on my quest — 15 years after its original release, and in the flush of my teen rock-geek years — to own every note this band every recorded. For some reason, "Loaded" was the hardest one to track down. (I know it’s difficult to imagine not being able to locate a record these days, but it was 1985.) I knew as I scoured the bins that "Loaded" was the original home for a pair of Velvet Underground songs that had already taken on legendary status by the '80s, “Sweet Jane” and “Rock and Roll.” But the only version of “Sweet Jane” I'd heard at that point was the one off Lou Reed’s live album "Rock n’ Roll Animal," which was widely acknowledged as a way to place the irascible star back on the charts after he chose to follow up his breakthrough "Transformer" — which David Bowie and his late guitarist Mick Ronson crafted into a glitter-era sensation — with the dour, Bob Ezrin-produced "Berlin." Recorded at the Academy of Music with a shit-hot band around Christmas of ’73 and released the following February, "Rock n' Roll Animal" was indeed a big hit during an era when rock radio DJs had no fear of playing really (really) long songs. That live version of “Sweet Jane” comes with an extended intro — if you happened to turn in before those chords smashed down, you might think you were listening to Yes. But then there’s a wave of applause and Reed strolls onstage, and begins to sing in his tough monotone. He’s got bleached blonde hair and never takes off his extra dark aviators: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4VuH... Some years later I happened to hear the Jim Carroll Band’s version of the song which is (although I adore and once dyed my hair orange to emulate Carroll …) pretty weak. Worse, Reed appears in the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yerFI... "Catholic Boy," it ain’t. Even the mighty Mott the Hoople did another anemic version in ’72: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5UHI... I’d heard Jane’s Addiction’s slurry, meandering, percussive version of “Rock n’ Roll” before I ever heard the Velvets. But when I finally found a copy of "Loaded" in college, I realized what I had been missing. “Rock n’ Roll” was clear-eyed and true. Lou, his alter ego “Jenny” (not to mention Perry Farrell and me, too) were all misfits from Long Island where there was “nothing going down at all.” Despite all the complications, we could dance to the rock and roll (and the disco and the hip hop) station. I loved “Cool It Down” and “New Age” (which reminded me of Sylvia Miles and Joe Dallesandro’s affair in the Paul Morrissey-directed Warhol film "Heat"). “Lonesome Cowboy Bill” was kind of a throwaway, as was “Train Going Round the Bend,” but “I Found A Reason,” a gentle doo wop (later covered by Cat Power) and “Oh Sweet Nuthin’" (which has since found its way onto several soundtracks, including Stephen Frears’ "High Fidelity" and Sam Mendes’ "Away We Go") were stunners. But it was almost immediately clear to me what I had been truly missing all these years. “Sweet Jane” is the second song on the album, after the bubblegum sweet “Who Loves the Sun” (a showcase for Doug Yule, who replaced the more avant John Cale), and it begins with a guitar squiggle followed by those steady, wave-like chords (unmistakable in any version), and just like in the live "Rock n’ Roll Animal" version, Lou sings: “Standin’ on the corner, suitcase in my hand. Jack’s in his corset, Jane is in her vest and me I’m in a rock and roll band… Ha!” What makes the "Loaded" version life-changing and revelatory after such a long wait is that “Ha.” To me, that "ha" is everything: New York City, the art demimonde, the fact that most rock and rollers don’t hold down jobs too long except for those in rock and roll bands (and sometimes not even those), the fact that “standin’ on the corner” is cooler than anything you are doing, even if the suitcase is full of used books to sell at the Strand on Broadway. “Ha!” Where had you been all my life, “Ha”? If I asked Lou, he’d probably say … “Ha!” In fact, I’d had some occasion to ask Lou … two interviews. One in person where I, starving, had to watch him eat some kind of sauce-covered cutlet slowly while we discussed "Berlin." His manager was there — ask any rock writer (if you can find one these days) whether they want managers, publicists, record company people, wives, husbands, anyone who is not the rock star anywhere near the interview and see what they say. He would never admit to me where the “Ha” came from. He didn’t even fucking know where the “Ha” came from. Did he write it? Did he plan it? No. I don’t think so. “Ha!” “Sweet Jane” is not the same without it. The Velvets are not the same without it. Rock and Roll after 1970 is all about the “Ha.” Punk, new wave, reggae, outlaw country, is the “Ha!” I don’t care what you do, but me, (honey) I’m in a rock and roll band. The young today, I hope they know what to do with the “Ha,” since it’s so easy to hear and use now. It’s like cocaine. You used to have to know someone; now all you need is a code. Smack, you used to have to take a walk in the dark, and now you can have it sent over like a taco plate (I’ve heard). “Ha!” in the wrong hands is a dangerous thing. “Ha!” in my hands was a friend. That “Ha” and I are nearly the same age. It’s been there my whole life, waiting for me. And when I found it, my life was saved … by rock and roll. I can’t defend the author of that “Ha” or what it made him do. It’s been documented before and it’s about to be, now that he is gone, documented again and again in books and inevitably films. Lou was “a monster,” a bad man, a crank, a grouch, a sharp tongued, cranky, short-fused bastard — the Lou I met anyway, and apparently the Lou a lot of other people met, too — but I can’t help but think the “Ha” is his better and not his darker angel. He’d been chasing the “Ha!” He admitted as much. If he could have written “Sweet Jane” every time, he surely would have. Instead, he did "Metal Machine Music" and a bunch of hit and miss albums until 1989’s "New York," which landed him on the cover of Rolling Stone. Then he got pretentious again. I once attended a benefit show that advertised Lou, and I saw him get up, mumble some Poe and then shuffle off stage. “Ha!” Good cause, I guess, who can complain. I should probably also put in a word for the lost bridge. The “heavenly wine and roses…” bit that was as gorgeous as “Candy Says” and “Femme Fatale” but was inexplicably cut for space? (“Ha!” to you too, Lou, the label seemed to say.) The Cowboy Junkies' version was heroic in its restoration of that bridge, and they were rewarded with a big hit that college kids used to put on mix cassettes for each other in hopes of having sex. (Well, this college kid … “Ha!”) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4XVJ... There is also an utterly batshit version of "Sweet Jane" on the live "Take No Prisoners" album, in which Lou rails against rock critics and the hipster scene and just about everything else: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAnJb... The album is more of a stand-up routine than a live document, but as such it’s a lot better than most UCB grad bullshit. Lou was a lot of things, and one of them was seriously funny — Listen to “Ferryboat Bill” or “Andy’s Chest” if you doubt me. So happy birthday, "Loaded." Happy birthday, “Ha!” And rest in peace Lou, Jack, Jane, Jim … all the protest kids and, I don’t know … Taylor Mead. I hope you’re all tooling around in your Stutz Bearcat somewhere in the sky, high above the Empire State Building and the city and all its empty ghost corners. [image error]
Who’s burning America’s black churches?
After the June killing of nine at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church by Dylann Roof, six predominantly black churches in the South were burned. Now, months later, intentional fires have been set at seven predominantly black churches in the St. Louis area in the past three weeks. While it is unknown if the attacks are racially motivated, there is a deep history of terrorism against black churches in America. Watch the video below: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/BlackC..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/151017...] [image error]After the June killing of nine at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church by Dylann Roof, six predominantly black churches in the South were burned. Now, months later, intentional fires have been set at seven predominantly black churches in the St. Louis area in the past three weeks. While it is unknown if the attacks are racially motivated, there is a deep history of terrorism against black churches in America. Watch the video below: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/BlackC..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/151017...] [image error]After the June killing of nine at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church by Dylann Roof, six predominantly black churches in the South were burned. Now, months later, intentional fires have been set at seven predominantly black churches in the St. Louis area in the past three weeks. While it is unknown if the attacks are racially motivated, there is a deep history of terrorism against black churches in America. Watch the video below: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/BlackC..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/151017...] [image error]After the June killing of nine at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church by Dylann Roof, six predominantly black churches in the South were burned. Now, months later, intentional fires have been set at seven predominantly black churches in the St. Louis area in the past three weeks. While it is unknown if the attacks are racially motivated, there is a deep history of terrorism against black churches in America. Watch the video below: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/BlackC..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/151017...] [image error]After the June killing of nine at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church by Dylann Roof, six predominantly black churches in the South were burned. Now, months later, intentional fires have been set at seven predominantly black churches in the St. Louis area in the past three weeks. While it is unknown if the attacks are racially motivated, there is a deep history of terrorism against black churches in America. Watch the video below: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/BlackC..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/151017...] [image error]
My Creation Museum quest: A skeptic’s genuine search for faith, science and humanity in a most unlikely place
The town of Petersburg, Kentucky, sits quietly at the mouth of the Midwest. The Ohio River snakes around the borders of the scant, 620-person town, separating it from the state of Indiana immediately north, and Ohio slightly northeast. Streaks of smoke hang lazily among the clouds, stretching into the sky from the coal power plant just to the south. Ranch and split-level homes stand plain before acres of flat pasture. The silhouettes of lonesome billboards dotting the highway are as close as the town comes to a skyline. One gets the impression that a gaze out of a Petersburg window today would reveal the same landscape that existed a hundred years ago. In 2001, however, the town saw something new. A non-profit, fundamentalist Christian apologetics ministry called Answers in Genesis (AiG) broke otherwise untroubled ground in Petersburg, in the construction of what the group would later call the Creation Museum. The multimillion-dollar testament to a seemingly invaluable faith did not come without a fight. AiG filed several suits in order to develop the plot of Boone County land the way that they wished, with the apparent strategy being to litigate until their opponents gave up. From planning to construction, the 60,000-square-foot museum took nearly 10 years and $27 million to complete. The museum opened to the public in 2007, and according to AiG officials surpassed its annual attendance projection of 250,000 visitors within five months. An array of extravagances — such as a planetarium, raptor-themed zip line, biblical-era petting zoo as well as dinosaur and insect skeleton collections — await Creation Museum visitors, as does friendly service. If hired permanently, museum employees must sign a “statement of faith” affirming their beliefs in AiG’s principles. The workers always smile as they greet guests. They smile as they remind visitors that their tickets — which have just gone up from $5 to $29.95, officially due to gas hikes and a poor economy — are good for two days. They smile as they offer Noah’s Café patrons a souvenir mug, featuring information on the real age of a T-rex (created on Day 6, approximately 4004 BC) for $6.99, which includes free refills all day. They smile even more as they guide guests into a lecture hall for an hour-long talk on the physical existence of a “mitochondrial Eve.” Once inside the hall, they smile as they remind visitors that Adam, Eve and Jesus were all real people; that all visions offered by the Bible are real, and that to abandon this real word — even a select passage or two — is to slip into an ugly, graffiti-covered world of depravity and sin. Beneath that smiling is fear. In Georgia Purdom’s talk on Mitochondrial Eve — in which the PhD-holding research scientist invokes science to prove that the biblical Eve did exist — she expresses concerns about the future. “Among Christians today,” Purdom says, “there is an increasing debate over whether or not Adam and Eve were real people.” Audience members collectively lower their chins and furrow their brows in deep consternation. Some clap their hands in frustrated agreement. Purdom then evidentiates her case by presenting slide after slide of popular Christian publications whose editorial staff, before a continuously sophisticating science, have interpreted the Bible with a more scrutinizing eye. Based on the science, these publications say, certain passages of the Bible can no longer reasonably be considered as literally true. Perhaps, they add, we too should evolve with the times. Purdom pauses, waiting for her audience to be hit by that rhetorical anvil. To Purdom and her peers, these developments are not mere annoyances; they warn that faith is something mortal, and is thus something that can die — or be killed by a hungrier, leaner species than they. In their eyes, a predatory science has sniffed out the flesh of the faithful, forcing them to contort and camouflage their beliefs in order to survive. For Purdom, the less-devout have already ceded their values to the demands of a new reality, and yet the appetite of science remains insatiable. They, the defendants of a truth unchanging, are under attack. If the Word is to live, if its believers are to have purpose, it is up to institutions like Answers in Genesis to save it, and likewise a guiding, collective morality. In a world abandoning the totalizing austerities of faith for the boundless frontiers of science, the Creation Museum must stand in defiance. And it does. And yet, by erecting a physical space to enshrine their faith as fact, they follow in the footsteps and theories of their scientific opponents: In constructing the Creation Museum, the fundamentalists too participate in natural selection, albeit of the curatorial kind. But they certainly won’t admit it. Under this lens, it is too easy to dismiss the Creation Museum as yet another ornament on the fundamentalist’s heavy-limbed Christmas tree. It is likewise puerile to laugh at their depictions of an early human grazing among dinosaurs as simply “crazy.” A closer look at the Petersburg attraction reveals that the questions raised in the museum are deeply existential, and ones which are steeped in — and troubled by — an atheistic logic: If it is indeed true that Adam and Eve did not literally exist, as science says, then there is no original sin. If there is no original sin, then Jesus did not have to die for it. If Jesus did die, but not for our sins, then why is he our savior? If he is not our savior, then what is he? What are we? Viewed this way, the Creation Museum becomes less of a clearly demarcated home for the irrational, but rather a metaphysical space for individuals deeply troubled by emerging forms of authoritative rationality. The museum complex, which sprawls over dozens of acres, is less of an amusement park for fanatics and more of a fortress for the vanishing fearful. It is a space where the likeminded can physically enter a mindset that they know, and that they worry — if science has anything to say about it — might one day become unknown. Questions of social justice, evolution and humankind’s place in the universe are answered here — and usually in 150 pages or less. Indeed, the Creation Museum offers itself as a vital, life-affirming buffer against the spiritually weathering effects, and warnings, of coming worlds. And yet, this sequestered space has the potential to greatly impact public life. As with any place of refuge, the Creation Museum wraps its guests in safety to revitalize their spirits. Fundamentalist views — anti-gay, anti-abortion, anti-evolution — are not challenged but embraced, and promoted, here. And lest we forget, it was AiG president Dr. Ken Ham who galvanized climate skeptics around the country in his widely viewed debate with popular science icon Bill Nye at a time when carbon parts per million hover at historically high levels, and residents of low-lying, often-poor coastal areas are living through the effects of climate change as we speak. But no matter; this is a place of answers, not complications. The gilded pages of the Bible manifest themselves three-dimensionally, with a white Adam and Eve locking their heterosexual limbs in a short film and life-size exhibit. With every vision of a sharp-mouthed woman or a gun-toting minority, guests’ fears of living within a fallen world are drawn out, and legitimated, with equal precision. Visitors’ faith, as anatomized by AiG’s so-called academics, is heralded as scientifically valid, and therefore beyond reproof from either side. Their views, however anachronistic, are elevated to a place of science and therefore sacredness, however paradoxical. While refuting the laurels of science, they rely upon it to authorize their beliefs and prejudices and thus assure their own survival. The limbo continues. The need for the Creation Museum grows. What a sad, confusing time. What a sad, confusing place. If only the museum’s founders believed enough in their own faith to see them through it. [image error]
9 of the most hilarious “SNL” political impersonations of the last 40 years
Seinfeld creator Larry David perfectly impersonated Bernie Sanders on "Saturday Night Live" in a performance that left viewers wondering if the two are actually the same person. David nailed Sanders' accent and mannerisms and also managed to make the democratic candidate more likeable in the process. The display is just the latest in a a long history of political impressions beginning in 1975 when Chevy Chase played Gerald Ford — and many of them have helped influence public opinion. Most notable was Tina Fey's impersonation of Sarah Palin that was arguably the beginning of the end of Palin's political career. Whether influencing the national conversation or just being super fun to watch, SNL has had a lot of practice perfecting the art of the political impersonation. Watch this mash-up of some of show's greatest hits: [jwplayer file="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/bestSN..." image="http://media.salon.com/2015/10/Larry-...] [image error]
U.S. lawmakers call for more oversight of workers’ comp
This story was co-published with NPR. Ten prominent Democratic lawmakers, including presidential candidate Sen. Bernie Sanders, are urging the U.S. secretary of labor to come up with a plan to ensure that state workers’ compensation programs are properly caring for injured workers. The lawmakers’ letter, sent Tuesday, was prompted by an investigation by ProPublica and NPR, which found that more than 30 states have cut benefits to injured workers, created daunting hurdles to getting medical care or made it more difficult for workers with certain injuries and illnesses to qualify. As a result, some workers have been evicted from their homes, denied prosthetic devices their doctors recommended or left in precarious situations when their home health aides were taken away. Denied care, some workers have turned to state Medicaid or federal disability programs, the investigation found. “State workers’ compensation laws are no longer providing adequate levels of support and compensation for workers injured on the job,” the lawmakers wrote. “Instead, costs are increasingly being shifted to the American taxpayers to foot the bill.” The letter also cited a ProPublica and NPR story from last week that detailed a campaign by some of the biggest names in corporate America to let companies “opt out” of workers’ comp and write their own rules for taking care of injured workers. Laws in Texas and Oklahoma already allow such an option and it is under serious consideration in Tennessee and South Carolina. “The race to the bottom now appears to be nearly bottomless,” the members of Congress wrote. The letter was sent to Secretary Thomas E. Perez by the ranking members of the Senate and House labor, budget and finance committees and the subcommittees that deal with workplace safety and Social Security. In addition to Sanders, they include Sens. Patty Murray, Ron Wyden, Al Franken and Sherrod Brown and Reps. Bobby Scott, Chris Van Hollen, Sander Levin, Frederica Wilson and Xavier Becerra. The Labor Department said in a statement that it was reviewing the letter but shared the members’ concerns. “Every year injured workers and their families are bearing more and more of the cost of workplace injuries and illnesses,” the department said. “American workers and their families deserve the peace of mind that comes with knowing a workplace injury won’t knock them out of the middle class, and we look forward to working with stakeholders to find real solutions.” As the minority party in Congress, Democratic lawmakers have had little success getting attention for their proposals. But in the last year, the Obama administration has used its authority aggressively on a range of workplace issues, including overtime, paid sick leave and the misclassification of employees as independent contractors. In an interview, Scott, the ranking member on the House education and workforce committee, said the cost shifting to federal programs underscores that “there is a strong federal interest in making sure the workers’ comp programs pay appropriate benefits." Scott said he was struck by harsh restrictions in the benefit plans of some companies that had opted out of workers’ comp, particularly one that requires employees to report an injury by the end of their shift or lose their benefits. “A lot of people have injuries and they go home and think it will go away and it turns out to be a much more serious injury than they thought, “ he said. “So you have a person that has no benefits at all if we allow some of these things to continue.” The lawmakers’ letter marks the most significant interest that Congress has shown in workers’ comp since the Labor Department stopped monitoring state laws in 2004. And it comes as Congress debates the solvency of the Social Security Disability trust fund, which is projected to run short of money next year as an increasing number of people receive federal assistance. Workers’ comp — the nation’s system for dealing with workplace injuries — arose in the early 20th century as tragedies like the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire brought home the grisly consequences of industrialization. As a compact between labor and industry, workers gave up their right to sue their employers in exchange for a guarantee of prompt medical care and enough of their wages to get by while they recovered. In 1972, a presidential commission created by the Occupational Safety and Health Act recommended a series of minimum standards that state workers’ comp programs should meet. Fearing that Congress would mandate the standards, nearly every state passed laws to improve their benefits. For decades, the Labor Department kept track of states’ compliance with the federal recommendations — even though it lacked the authority to take action against states that did not comply. But budget cuts ended that. ProPublica and NPR’s investigation found that, over the years, states had developed disparate methods for how employers must compensate injured workers and their families. The hodgepodge nature of workers’ comp has resulted in some startling discrepancies. Workers who lose limbs in similar accidents, for example, may receive dramatically different compensation based on which state they work in. In the letter, the Democratic lawmakers said they “would welcome a report” from the Labor Department on how it would “reinstitute oversight” of state programs. They also said they would work with the Obama administration if it needs additional legislative authority to “better ensure that the interests of injured workers and taxpayers are protected.” Several recent studies have estimated that workers’ comp covers only a fraction of the costs of workplace injuries and illnesses as government programs like Social Security Disability Insurance, Medicare and Medicaid pay about $30 billion a year for medical care and lost wages not covered by workers’ comp. “An accumulating body of evidence shows that at least part of the growth in SSDI benefit payments is attributable to the program’s subsidy for work injuries and illnesses,” the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration said in a March report. In a study to be released later today, the Center for Economic and Policy Research, a left-leaning think tank, estimates that more than 20 percent of the rise in federal disability rolls can be explained by cuts to workers’ comp programs.
This story was co-published with NPR. Ten prominent Democratic lawmakers, including presidential candidate Sen. Bernie Sanders, are urging the U.S. secretary of labor to come up with a plan to ensure that state workers’ compensation programs are properly caring for injured workers. The lawmakers’ letter, sent Tuesday, was prompted by an investigation by ProPublica and NPR, which found that more than 30 states have cut benefits to injured workers, created daunting hurdles to getting medical care or made it more difficult for workers with certain injuries and illnesses to qualify. As a result, some workers have been evicted from their homes, denied prosthetic devices their doctors recommended or left in precarious situations when their home health aides were taken away. Denied care, some workers have turned to state Medicaid or federal disability programs, the investigation found. “State workers’ compensation laws are no longer providing adequate levels of support and compensation for workers injured on the job,” the lawmakers wrote. “Instead, costs are increasingly being shifted to the American taxpayers to foot the bill.” The letter also cited a ProPublica and NPR story from last week that detailed a campaign by some of the biggest names in corporate America to let companies “opt out” of workers’ comp and write their own rules for taking care of injured workers. Laws in Texas and Oklahoma already allow such an option and it is under serious consideration in Tennessee and South Carolina. “The race to the bottom now appears to be nearly bottomless,” the members of Congress wrote. The letter was sent to Secretary Thomas E. Perez by the ranking members of the Senate and House labor, budget and finance committees and the subcommittees that deal with workplace safety and Social Security. In addition to Sanders, they include Sens. Patty Murray, Ron Wyden, Al Franken and Sherrod Brown and Reps. Bobby Scott, Chris Van Hollen, Sander Levin, Frederica Wilson and Xavier Becerra. The Labor Department said in a statement that it was reviewing the letter but shared the members’ concerns. “Every year injured workers and their families are bearing more and more of the cost of workplace injuries and illnesses,” the department said. “American workers and their families deserve the peace of mind that comes with knowing a workplace injury won’t knock them out of the middle class, and we look forward to working with stakeholders to find real solutions.” As the minority party in Congress, Democratic lawmakers have had little success getting attention for their proposals. But in the last year, the Obama administration has used its authority aggressively on a range of workplace issues, including overtime, paid sick leave and the misclassification of employees as independent contractors. In an interview, Scott, the ranking member on the House education and workforce committee, said the cost shifting to federal programs underscores that “there is a strong federal interest in making sure the workers’ comp programs pay appropriate benefits." Scott said he was struck by harsh restrictions in the benefit plans of some companies that had opted out of workers’ comp, particularly one that requires employees to report an injury by the end of their shift or lose their benefits. “A lot of people have injuries and they go home and think it will go away and it turns out to be a much more serious injury than they thought, “ he said. “So you have a person that has no benefits at all if we allow some of these things to continue.” The lawmakers’ letter marks the most significant interest that Congress has shown in workers’ comp since the Labor Department stopped monitoring state laws in 2004. And it comes as Congress debates the solvency of the Social Security Disability trust fund, which is projected to run short of money next year as an increasing number of people receive federal assistance. Workers’ comp — the nation’s system for dealing with workplace injuries — arose in the early 20th century as tragedies like the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire brought home the grisly consequences of industrialization. As a compact between labor and industry, workers gave up their right to sue their employers in exchange for a guarantee of prompt medical care and enough of their wages to get by while they recovered. In 1972, a presidential commission created by the Occupational Safety and Health Act recommended a series of minimum standards that state workers’ comp programs should meet. Fearing that Congress would mandate the standards, nearly every state passed laws to improve their benefits. For decades, the Labor Department kept track of states’ compliance with the federal recommendations — even though it lacked the authority to take action against states that did not comply. But budget cuts ended that. ProPublica and NPR’s investigation found that, over the years, states had developed disparate methods for how employers must compensate injured workers and their families. The hodgepodge nature of workers’ comp has resulted in some startling discrepancies. Workers who lose limbs in similar accidents, for example, may receive dramatically different compensation based on which state they work in. In the letter, the Democratic lawmakers said they “would welcome a report” from the Labor Department on how it would “reinstitute oversight” of state programs. They also said they would work with the Obama administration if it needs additional legislative authority to “better ensure that the interests of injured workers and taxpayers are protected.” Several recent studies have estimated that workers’ comp covers only a fraction of the costs of workplace injuries and illnesses as government programs like Social Security Disability Insurance, Medicare and Medicaid pay about $30 billion a year for medical care and lost wages not covered by workers’ comp. “An accumulating body of evidence shows that at least part of the growth in SSDI benefit payments is attributable to the program’s subsidy for work injuries and illnesses,” the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration said in a March report. In a study to be released later today, the Center for Economic and Policy Research, a left-leaning think tank, estimates that more than 20 percent of the rise in federal disability rolls can be explained by cuts to workers’ comp programs.
October 24, 2015
My child is not in heaven: Your religion only makes my grief harder
When I tell people about the death of my infant daughter, they often respond that she is in heaven. They tell me that she is an angel now. They tell me that she’s with God. But as an atheist, these words have never brought me any comfort.
My daughter was born three years ago. I went into pre-term labor at 22 weeks gestation, and try as they might, the doctors could not keep her here with us. Her short life, just eight hours long, has marked my life and my husband’s life deeply. Margaret Hope (or Maggie, as we refer to her) continues to exist with us in her own way, but this persistence has absolutely nothing to do with god or Jesus or angels or any other specific afterworld. This is what works for us as parents. It’s what works for about two percent of the U.S. population who currently identify as atheists, and for about 20 percent who are agnostic or unaffiliated with any particular set of beliefs.
Being an atheist in a believer’s world can be difficult at times, especially when some of the more fervently religious are close family or friends. It’s even more daunting when faced with grief and death. Christians believe that when we die, we either go to heaven or hell. Many, of course, believe babies go to heaven because they are, well, babies. When our daughter died, my husband requested to have our baby baptized, fearing in some way for her soul, a remnant of his Catholic upbringing. There was no time for a traditional baptism while she was alive but her NICU doctor performed the rite for her while we held her in our arms for the first time, our tiny, frail, lifeless daughter whose eyes never even got a chance to see. It felt bizarre to me, but I allowed it because my husband was suffering and it seemed to bring him some comfort. Later, as reality hit harder, he would lose all faith as I had done.
After we left the hospital, we were faced with the task of whether or not to hold some sort of memorial service for Maggie. Part of me wanted to go to the Unitarian Universalist church, as that is the only place I’d been where I felt like my agnostic views were still respected, where I could still enjoy some semblance of spirituality while remaining non-religious. At the time, however, I was an emotional mess and could not do much to contact anyone or even make any suggestions.
Fortunately, my brother stepped up and arranged a service at a church in Miami Beach (where Maggie “lived” for most of her brief life). While it was technically a Christian church, the fact that they were supportive of the LGBTQA community, plus their commitment to serving the homeless made me feel like this was a place I would be comfortable bringing my daughter, even after death. In a small, cosmic joke, we also appreciated the fact that the pastor was named “Hunter” Thompson.
Those around us did their best to offer words of comfort, but after a while, I became tired and even resentful of the comments about my daughter needing to go be with Jesus. Worse still, I isolated myself so I wouldn’t need to hear their “comforting” words because all they did was make me feel worse. Like so many other non-believers, I cannot wrap my head around the idea that there is some supreme being that allows these sorts of things to happen, commands them to happen. Being a bereaved parent is hard enough, but being one when you don’t believe in god is something else altogether.
The thing is, though, if you tell someone of faith that you don’t believe your child is in heaven, you’re met with confusion, or sad looks, or sometimes even a bit of anger. People don’t understand how or why you wouldn’t want to believe that your child is in a better place. Quite often, they take it as a personal attack on their belief when it’s really more about being honest about your own grief. It’s funny how inconvenient my lack of faith as a bereaved mother can be for those on the outside. (Actually, it’s not funny at all.)
I sought out support groups in my area, but could not find any that were not held within a church. I did not feel comfortable going to one of these places for fear of verbally assaulting anyone who might suggest my daughter had earned her angel wings. It made me want to shake people until they realized that maybe she died simply because people die. Maybe she died because there were errors made in the care I received at the hospital I visited twice in the week before she died, where those who saw me shrugged off that I was spotting without reason. Maybe she died because I was unable to visit a new doctor because the office refused to see me without receiving the paperwork from my previous doctor in Miami, whose office continuously forgot to fax over my records, leaving me without regular medical care for weeks. Maybe she died because I had experienced tremendous stress after being fired from my job due to early pregnancy complications that required me to miss work, causing me to go on Medicaid in the first place, resulting in the aforementioned doctor shuffle. Maybe she died because of any other reason except that it was god’s will. Maybe it was more about socio-economics and my own personal health than about imaginary lords in the sky.
I knew I couldn’t be the only one who felt this way. After some searching, I found a few Facebook groups for people like me: people who were grieving but were done with believing. One of the groups was a general bereavement group. Here, people from all over were telling the stories of their grandfathers who just passed away from Alzheimer’s, their sisters who succumbed to lung cancer, their best friends who hanged themselves when things got to be too much, their mothers who died of old age, their sons who were killed in car accidents.
I told my story and found a sense of community, but I did not feel like I could share my grief as openly because I hadn’t yet gotten to know my daughter the way they knew the people they had loved and lost. All I knew about her was that she enjoyed "The Little Mermaid" (because she kicked wildly when I sang along to all the songs in the film), that she enjoyed the first few chapters of "The Little Prince" and that she was my very best friend for a brief period of time. But I did not know her the way others in the group knew their loved ones with whom they’d shared years of memories.
Eventually, I found a group specifically for agnostic and atheist mothers who’d lost their young babies, either due to miscarriage, stillbirth, prematurity, SIDS or other causes. This group became my home for a long, long time. I met and befriended so many women who had been through nearly the exact same thing I had been through: mothers who also lost their babies at 22 weeks; mothers who also went into pre-term labor, with no explanations; mothers who were grieving their entire futures who did not believe in god and instead found comfort in things like the First Law of Thermodynamics or in the words of great thinkers like Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson about how we are just a tiny speck in the universe, that there is something so much bigger out there that we are only beginning to understand. Believe it or not, this is extremely comforting to those of us who don’t believe in a god. These are the things you can say to a non-believer who is mourning a loss.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and while there are countless parents grieving publicly via Facebook and Instagram, posting messages of how their babies have earned their place in heaven, those of us without organized religion are left on the sidelines. Some of us still refer to our babies as angels, though not the kind that float on clouds by pearly gates. We simply lack the language to describe our loss without resorting to theistic terms.
Agnostics and atheists understand why people have faith. We understand it brings them comfort. At times, I wish I could believe that my daughter is watching over me right now while enjoying a beautiful and eternal afterlife. But that’s just not what I believe. Instead, I imagine her in all sorts of places. Maybe her energy shot out into the stars. Perhaps some molecule of her is dancing around on Jupiter. Other times, I think about much of her remaining in my heart, as science tells us part of every child’s DNA remains forever with her mother, a fact that does bring me great peace.
Maggie's physical remains are in a plastic, white box, swaddled in her hospital baby blanket, and placed inside my bedroom closet, still waiting for the day I am willing to part with them. I really don’t know what happened to her soul, if such things even exist. And while it may comfort you to say to me that my daughter is in heaven, it does absolutely nothing for me or for the countless others who don’t subscribe to your brand of faith — and that is okay.
When I tell people about the death of my infant daughter, they often respond that she is in heaven. They tell me that she is an angel now. They tell me that she’s with God. But as an atheist, these words have never brought me any comfort.
My daughter was born three years ago. I went into pre-term labor at 22 weeks gestation, and try as they might, the doctors could not keep her here with us. Her short life, just eight hours long, has marked my life and my husband’s life deeply. Margaret Hope (or Maggie, as we refer to her) continues to exist with us in her own way, but this persistence has absolutely nothing to do with god or Jesus or angels or any other specific afterworld. This is what works for us as parents. It’s what works for about two percent of the U.S. population who currently identify as atheists, and for about 20 percent who are agnostic or unaffiliated with any particular set of beliefs.
Being an atheist in a believer’s world can be difficult at times, especially when some of the more fervently religious are close family or friends. It’s even more daunting when faced with grief and death. Christians believe that when we die, we either go to heaven or hell. Many, of course, believe babies go to heaven because they are, well, babies. When our daughter died, my husband requested to have our baby baptized, fearing in some way for her soul, a remnant of his Catholic upbringing. There was no time for a traditional baptism while she was alive but her NICU doctor performed the rite for her while we held her in our arms for the first time, our tiny, frail, lifeless daughter whose eyes never even got a chance to see. It felt bizarre to me, but I allowed it because my husband was suffering and it seemed to bring him some comfort. Later, as reality hit harder, he would lose all faith as I had done.
After we left the hospital, we were faced with the task of whether or not to hold some sort of memorial service for Maggie. Part of me wanted to go to the Unitarian Universalist church, as that is the only place I’d been where I felt like my agnostic views were still respected, where I could still enjoy some semblance of spirituality while remaining non-religious. At the time, however, I was an emotional mess and could not do much to contact anyone or even make any suggestions.
Fortunately, my brother stepped up and arranged a service at a church in Miami Beach (where Maggie “lived” for most of her brief life). While it was technically a Christian church, the fact that they were supportive of the LGBTQA community, plus their commitment to serving the homeless made me feel like this was a place I would be comfortable bringing my daughter, even after death. In a small, cosmic joke, we also appreciated the fact that the pastor was named “Hunter” Thompson.
Those around us did their best to offer words of comfort, but after a while, I became tired and even resentful of the comments about my daughter needing to go be with Jesus. Worse still, I isolated myself so I wouldn’t need to hear their “comforting” words because all they did was make me feel worse. Like so many other non-believers, I cannot wrap my head around the idea that there is some supreme being that allows these sorts of things to happen, commands them to happen. Being a bereaved parent is hard enough, but being one when you don’t believe in god is something else altogether.
The thing is, though, if you tell someone of faith that you don’t believe your child is in heaven, you’re met with confusion, or sad looks, or sometimes even a bit of anger. People don’t understand how or why you wouldn’t want to believe that your child is in a better place. Quite often, they take it as a personal attack on their belief when it’s really more about being honest about your own grief. It’s funny how inconvenient my lack of faith as a bereaved mother can be for those on the outside. (Actually, it’s not funny at all.)
I sought out support groups in my area, but could not find any that were not held within a church. I did not feel comfortable going to one of these places for fear of verbally assaulting anyone who might suggest my daughter had earned her angel wings. It made me want to shake people until they realized that maybe she died simply because people die. Maybe she died because there were errors made in the care I received at the hospital I visited twice in the week before she died, where those who saw me shrugged off that I was spotting without reason. Maybe she died because I was unable to visit a new doctor because the office refused to see me without receiving the paperwork from my previous doctor in Miami, whose office continuously forgot to fax over my records, leaving me without regular medical care for weeks. Maybe she died because I had experienced tremendous stress after being fired from my job due to early pregnancy complications that required me to miss work, causing me to go on Medicaid in the first place, resulting in the aforementioned doctor shuffle. Maybe she died because of any other reason except that it was god’s will. Maybe it was more about socio-economics and my own personal health than about imaginary lords in the sky.
I knew I couldn’t be the only one who felt this way. After some searching, I found a few Facebook groups for people like me: people who were grieving but were done with believing. One of the groups was a general bereavement group. Here, people from all over were telling the stories of their grandfathers who just passed away from Alzheimer’s, their sisters who succumbed to lung cancer, their best friends who hanged themselves when things got to be too much, their mothers who died of old age, their sons who were killed in car accidents.
I told my story and found a sense of community, but I did not feel like I could share my grief as openly because I hadn’t yet gotten to know my daughter the way they knew the people they had loved and lost. All I knew about her was that she enjoyed "The Little Mermaid" (because she kicked wildly when I sang along to all the songs in the film), that she enjoyed the first few chapters of "The Little Prince" and that she was my very best friend for a brief period of time. But I did not know her the way others in the group knew their loved ones with whom they’d shared years of memories.
Eventually, I found a group specifically for agnostic and atheist mothers who’d lost their young babies, either due to miscarriage, stillbirth, prematurity, SIDS or other causes. This group became my home for a long, long time. I met and befriended so many women who had been through nearly the exact same thing I had been through: mothers who also lost their babies at 22 weeks; mothers who also went into pre-term labor, with no explanations; mothers who were grieving their entire futures who did not believe in god and instead found comfort in things like the First Law of Thermodynamics or in the words of great thinkers like Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson about how we are just a tiny speck in the universe, that there is something so much bigger out there that we are only beginning to understand. Believe it or not, this is extremely comforting to those of us who don’t believe in a god. These are the things you can say to a non-believer who is mourning a loss.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and while there are countless parents grieving publicly via Facebook and Instagram, posting messages of how their babies have earned their place in heaven, those of us without organized religion are left on the sidelines. Some of us still refer to our babies as angels, though not the kind that float on clouds by pearly gates. We simply lack the language to describe our loss without resorting to theistic terms.
Agnostics and atheists understand why people have faith. We understand it brings them comfort. At times, I wish I could believe that my daughter is watching over me right now while enjoying a beautiful and eternal afterlife. But that’s just not what I believe. Instead, I imagine her in all sorts of places. Maybe her energy shot out into the stars. Perhaps some molecule of her is dancing around on Jupiter. Other times, I think about much of her remaining in my heart, as science tells us part of every child’s DNA remains forever with her mother, a fact that does bring me great peace.
Maggie's physical remains are in a plastic, white box, swaddled in her hospital baby blanket, and placed inside my bedroom closet, still waiting for the day I am willing to part with them. I really don’t know what happened to her soul, if such things even exist. And while it may comfort you to say to me that my daughter is in heaven, it does absolutely nothing for me or for the countless others who don’t subscribe to your brand of faith — and that is okay.
When you’re “SNL’s” “weird” end-of-the-show guy, “You’re counting how many [sketches] you got on that year, hoping not to get let go”
There are a lot of types of comedy found on “Saturday Night Live.” There’s the acerbic cultural commentary of Weekend Update and the ripped-from-the-headlines political satire that often dominates the show's cold opening. There are the more broad, character-driven sketches that tend to take up the bulk of the show. And then there are what’s known as the “five to one” sketches — those surreal, high-concept ideas that air in the show's final minutes, where the biggest risks are taken, and where the most bizarre and bold comedic ideas get their chance to come to fruition. Mike O’Brien is a five-to-one type of guy. During his time at “SNL” — where he spent five years as a writer and one as a featured player — he produced some of the most memorable and unusual segments in recent memory: absurdist, avant-garde digital shorts from “Bugs" to “Grow a Guy,” to his beautifully bizarre Jay Z biopic which earned him many devoted fans (Lorne Michaels included) and a couple of people who just didn't get it (hey, there's always a few). As he tells Salon: "I remember a couple of times I tried to write a CNN cold opener to the show. Like, 'I should be able to do this too, I’m not just the weird end-of-the-show guy.' They didn’t go well. I am just the weird end-of-the show guy." Of course, O'Brien is much more than that. The comic left the show at the beginning of this season — although he says he may return to do some videos — but he already has some stuff in the works that we're pretty excited about. First up on his roster is a comedy album called "Tasty Radio," an old-school compilation of audio sketches in the vein of early Adam Sandler and Nichols and May, featuring high-profile contributors like Bill Hader, Jason Sudeikis, Seth Meyers, Fred Armisen and Scarlett Johansson (you can listen to the first one below). He's also planning on more “7 Minutes in Heaven” videos, the viral series that built him a massive following even before he took the “SNL” stage, where he spends seven minutes cramped in a closet with various celebrities and seals the encounter with a kiss. We caught up with O’Brien via phone from L.A., where he is working on developing comedy pilots with the ongoing support of Lorne Michaels, to talk about "Tasty Radio," comedy writing and life beyond Studio 8H. Can you tell me a little bit about how the concept for "Tasty Radio" came about? I grew up listening to Adam Sandler albums and then later I found out about Nichols and May and all those, so it was in the back of my mind as something that would be cool to do. Then, my first year of writing for "SNL" in 2009 and 2010, I had all these leftover sketches, and other friends I’d made them with and I were all hanging out in New York that summer, so I asked Lorne if I could round up these people and make a comedy album. And he said yes. We both admitted we don’t quite know what [a comedy album] is now, if it’s going to be online or in an actual physical album. I wasn’t even positive when I started if they were going to be physical vinyl records and stuff. I wasn’t quite sure of what I was getting into, so [it was] just a fun side thing. It was an excuse to do some performing and to use some things that hadn't found a home at "SNL" or Second City in Chicago. Do you and Lorne have a good relationship? Yeah, we do have a good relationship, and he’s great about supporting side things. If you’ve got a specific vision and if you know what you’re doing with it and all that, then I think he likes that, he certainly supports it. So it’s very cool. You have a bunch of "SNL" alums on “Tasty Radio” – Jason Sudeikis, Fred Armisen, Bill Hader — as well as more high-profile names like Scarlett Johansson. Can you talk about how you got those people involved? The "SNL" friends were all just because we’re around each other at work all day and I generally tried to ask people who I’d collaborated with in writing the sketches or who the writers had in mind to perform, so I asked those people first. Scarlett was more because she knows all those other cast members. She’s hosted enough that now she’s friends with those older "SNL" casts and writers that have been around for a while. I asked her through that circle of friends. So it’s a lot of sketches that were written for "SNL" originally and just didn’t make the cut? At least a third of the album is that. A lot of it is just kind of side, random things that I’ve had a long time or things that are just a bit more audio-based. Once I started thinking of ideas and eliminating the visual aspect of being able to see a sketch, some just popped out as perfect for the album and others were immediately eliminated. This idea of a comedy album isn’t done much anymore. Why did you choose this route instead of, say, a series of viral videos? One thing was my love of the tradition of it, and another was that I find viral videos really hard to make outside of "SNL." This was so much faster and easier and cheaper. Yet in my mind, a lot of these sketches came just as much to fruition as if they had been on video. There wasn’t a downgrade in having audio only. What was behind the decision to leave the “SNL” writing staff this season? Mostly trying to work on and hopefully sell a cable show or something out in L.A., still with Broadway [Video] and Lorne. It seems Lorne is really still continuing to support your career. Absolutely, yeah. There’s a chance that I may go back and make some more of the videos that I was making [for “SNL”] if we can find the right timing and the right host for the ideas and so on. He’s supportive and is continuing [to be] so. Are we going to get any more “7 Minutes in Heaven?” I think so, yeah. I’m just starting to get back to asking people. I like how [Zach] Galifianakis has his occasional “Between Two Ferns” [episode], and it’s kind of a fun thing to get excited for when it comes out. I’d love to do like that once in a while. Forever, maybe! I don’t know if it would get weird if I’m a 90-year-old in a closet, but I guess it started out a little weird. As a shorter answer, I’m hoping to do some more soon. That’s awesome. Do you have a dream guest? Will Ferrell is someone I admire so much, and I think would be so much fun in it. And it would be so much fun having someone taller than me in such a squashed space, where I’m usually lurking over someone. I read this quote from Bill Hader about how “SNL” writers are given this piece of advice that there’s a Venn diagram of what you find funny as a writer versus what the “SNL” audience finds funny, and your job is to hit that space in between. And he was saying he really admired you as a writer because you didn’t pander to what you thought audiences would find funny. You just ran with your own sense of humor. Do you think that that’s a fair assessment? [Laughs.] Well, it’s flattering. Bill has always been so nice to me. I would say it was initially because I couldn’t. It wasn’t a choice, I didn’t have the mainstream hard joke-writing skills coming out of the slightly more artistic-leaning Chicago improv scene. I didn’t have a lot of background in stand-up. I couldn’t have written a good joke for, say, Weekend Update, when I first arrived. And so I just kind of did what I do, which was writing scenes that were a little weirder. Then it has become more of a choice, even though I’ve developed those skills. I do like hearing people laugh. The goal is not awkward silence forever. But I don’t mind it a little bit. You had a year where you were a featured player in addition to being a writer. Can you talk a little bit about that experience? It had probably less of the emotional swings that people have in their first year as a featured player at “SNL” because I’d had four years of writing, knew the building, knew the people. So it wasn’t as overwhelming as it must be for some people. But I’d still say it was a lot. It was a whole new type of uncomfortableness and tension building on Friday and Saturday that you don’t quite get if you’re standing off-set outside the camera. It was extremely fun. It was a lot of things, but mostly really fun. It was cool to really get to live on the inside of that, see what it’s like to do weird 5 a.m. video shoots an hour outside of the city and all the little things you’re not involved in sometimes as a writer. Your comedy has a more absurd, avant-garde vein to it, which some people love but others find less accessible. Do you think that there is a certain kind of comedy that just doesn’t work on “SNL”? I don’t think so. It is an interesting question that I feel like we could debate or discuss for hours. Because it is harder to get things [on air] that are a little bit more odd. But the examples throughout the years would say that you can. Certainly Fred Armisen and a lot of people, have accomplished some of the weirdest stuff ever. And the Mr. Bill claymation. There are many recent examples, too. What we used to call the five-to-one sketches -- 12:55 a.m. is when they would be airing. Those are still very present every week; on Wednesday’s table reads there’s a whole bunch of them. Because there are a ton of writers there with very weird sensibilities and other staff support it and will laugh if it’s working. It does have a little bit of a hard time with that 8 o’clock dress rehearsal audience, but they get through still. So I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule where you have to go more mainstream. Lorne probably appreciates people doing what he hired them to do; the reason they stood out in their own hometown was not because they were doing something for the mainstream. So you don’t want to lose whatever that was. But it can also be hard because you’re counting how many [sketches] you got on that year, hoping not to get let go. It’s hard not to give into the temptation a bit. I remember a couple of times I tried to write a CNN cold opener to the show. Like “I should be able to do this too, I’m not just the weird end-of-the-show guy.” They didn’t go well. I am just the weird end-of-the show guy. Is there any part of you that wishes you were going to be there for election season? No. [Laughs.] I got to be there for an election and I felt like that aspect of the show I was watching from the outside, because my brain just doesn’t work like that. Seth Meyers, my old boss, can crank out a hilarious take on the debate right after the debate ends, but I could be at it for weeks, and be like, “I don’t know, should we have the podium catch fire?” And they’d be like no, that’s not a take on what happened, you’ve got to read about immigration stuff. And I’d go “I’m not going to read about that!” What do you think about Trump hosting? Well, he hosted before. It would be interesting to go back and watch. It was before I worked there. I just remember one sketch, I think John Lutz had him in a big pizza costume. But will he be good? I don’t know. My favorite hosts are always comedians, I’ll say that. And when people are hosting a comedy show and they’re not a comedian -- I think it is cool that "SNL" does that and should always have that -- but as a comedy nerd, I’m always excited for the next upcoming comedian or famous actor, and excited to put them in these comedic scenarios, [especially if] they’ve also played these famous straight roles like Robert De Niro or Jude Law. So yeah, I think Trump will be fine, but not as good as Will Ferrell. During your time on “SNL,” you were really known for your videos, and nowadays it seems like a lot of the most memorable segments are pre-taped. Do you think that the nature of “SNL” fundamentally changed in the post-Lonely Island era, now that the live sketches are increasingly competing with pre-taped footage? Is the live stuff being crowded out? That’s an interesting one. I’m not sure. Election years definitely bring it more back to the live show. But, yes, the Lonely Island guys definitely changed the ways that Lorne and the producers look at the running order and say, “We definitely want some video pieces in this.” Or “every episode, do we have a couple of good video pieces we’re excited about,” whereas before I assume that was less mandatory. Now, there’s got to be some of that. And they have great directors and crew standing by. But I think of course it’s always got to be a live show and that’s what makes it unique from other great shows, like “Portlandia” or “Key and Peele,” it’s that liveness that is so important. It’s been neat watching it from L.A. after six years of not missing a show in the building. I’m watching it here and it feels like an exciting night is happening, with all my friends back in New York, and that’s the feeling I probably had when I was 15 watching it too. The excitement vibe of "SNL" is more important than videos. Do you have any particularly memorable stories or moments from your time on the show? I’ve got a ton. Hmm... don’t want to do that one. I’ll come out with another round of them when I’m for sure never going to see anyone again. So I guess on my deathbed? [Laughs]. But just being at the show, running around, is so fun. Quick-change is when an actor has to go fully from one moment to the next with just a commercial break, so like two minutes. And there’s hair and makeup that just surround you and your clothes are being ripped off and new ones put on and your wig is being ripped off and a new one glued on, so it’s just like 10 hands around. So it’s very cool. That’s just an adrenaline rush that I think you can get addicted to, it’s so exciting from every department. A million of those types of moments, I’ll have those forever. Any specific "SNL 40" recollections? It was a great night. Everything was just surreal and it was too much. There were too many famous people in one room. I did get to go up to Jay Z and tell him I played him in a biopic we made. And it was definitely clear that he hadn’t seen it yet and had no idea what I could mean by that. But I assumed he had seen it because it had been a couple of weeks and I figured some assistant had shown it to him or something. But he just kind of smiled and nodded and I kept going, “I played you, man! I’m Mike! I played you! I was you!” And he was like, “Okay, alright.” He was like, "what are you talking about?" Yeah, like: “What? How?!”There are a lot of types of comedy found on “Saturday Night Live.” There’s the acerbic cultural commentary of Weekend Update and the ripped-from-the-headlines political satire that often dominates the show's cold opening. There are the more broad, character-driven sketches that tend to take up the bulk of the show. And then there are what’s known as the “five to one” sketches — those surreal, high-concept ideas that air in the show's final minutes, where the biggest risks are taken, and where the most bizarre and bold comedic ideas get their chance to come to fruition. Mike O’Brien is a five-to-one type of guy. During his time at “SNL” — where he spent five years as a writer and one as a featured player — he produced some of the most memorable and unusual segments in recent memory: absurdist, avant-garde digital shorts from “Bugs" to “Grow a Guy,” to his beautifully bizarre Jay Z biopic which earned him many devoted fans (Lorne Michaels included) and a couple of people who just didn't get it (hey, there's always a few). As he tells Salon: "I remember a couple of times I tried to write a CNN cold opener to the show. Like, 'I should be able to do this too, I’m not just the weird end-of-the-show guy.' They didn’t go well. I am just the weird end-of-the show guy." Of course, O'Brien is much more than that. The comic left the show at the beginning of this season — although he says he may return to do some videos — but he already has some stuff in the works that we're pretty excited about. First up on his roster is a comedy album called "Tasty Radio," an old-school compilation of audio sketches in the vein of early Adam Sandler and Nichols and May, featuring high-profile contributors like Bill Hader, Jason Sudeikis, Seth Meyers, Fred Armisen and Scarlett Johansson (you can listen to the first one below). He's also planning on more “7 Minutes in Heaven” videos, the viral series that built him a massive following even before he took the “SNL” stage, where he spends seven minutes cramped in a closet with various celebrities and seals the encounter with a kiss. We caught up with O’Brien via phone from L.A., where he is working on developing comedy pilots with the ongoing support of Lorne Michaels, to talk about "Tasty Radio," comedy writing and life beyond Studio 8H. Can you tell me a little bit about how the concept for "Tasty Radio" came about? I grew up listening to Adam Sandler albums and then later I found out about Nichols and May and all those, so it was in the back of my mind as something that would be cool to do. Then, my first year of writing for "SNL" in 2009 and 2010, I had all these leftover sketches, and other friends I’d made them with and I were all hanging out in New York that summer, so I asked Lorne if I could round up these people and make a comedy album. And he said yes. We both admitted we don’t quite know what [a comedy album] is now, if it’s going to be online or in an actual physical album. I wasn’t even positive when I started if they were going to be physical vinyl records and stuff. I wasn’t quite sure of what I was getting into, so [it was] just a fun side thing. It was an excuse to do some performing and to use some things that hadn't found a home at "SNL" or Second City in Chicago. Do you and Lorne have a good relationship? Yeah, we do have a good relationship, and he’s great about supporting side things. If you’ve got a specific vision and if you know what you’re doing with it and all that, then I think he likes that, he certainly supports it. So it’s very cool. You have a bunch of "SNL" alums on “Tasty Radio” – Jason Sudeikis, Fred Armisen, Bill Hader — as well as more high-profile names like Scarlett Johansson. Can you talk about how you got those people involved? The "SNL" friends were all just because we’re around each other at work all day and I generally tried to ask people who I’d collaborated with in writing the sketches or who the writers had in mind to perform, so I asked those people first. Scarlett was more because she knows all those other cast members. She’s hosted enough that now she’s friends with those older "SNL" casts and writers that have been around for a while. I asked her through that circle of friends. So it’s a lot of sketches that were written for "SNL" originally and just didn’t make the cut? At least a third of the album is that. A lot of it is just kind of side, random things that I’ve had a long time or things that are just a bit more audio-based. Once I started thinking of ideas and eliminating the visual aspect of being able to see a sketch, some just popped out as perfect for the album and others were immediately eliminated. This idea of a comedy album isn’t done much anymore. Why did you choose this route instead of, say, a series of viral videos? One thing was my love of the tradition of it, and another was that I find viral videos really hard to make outside of "SNL." This was so much faster and easier and cheaper. Yet in my mind, a lot of these sketches came just as much to fruition as if they had been on video. There wasn’t a downgrade in having audio only. What was behind the decision to leave the “SNL” writing staff this season? Mostly trying to work on and hopefully sell a cable show or something out in L.A., still with Broadway [Video] and Lorne. It seems Lorne is really still continuing to support your career. Absolutely, yeah. There’s a chance that I may go back and make some more of the videos that I was making [for “SNL”] if we can find the right timing and the right host for the ideas and so on. He’s supportive and is continuing [to be] so. Are we going to get any more “7 Minutes in Heaven?” I think so, yeah. I’m just starting to get back to asking people. I like how [Zach] Galifianakis has his occasional “Between Two Ferns” [episode], and it’s kind of a fun thing to get excited for when it comes out. I’d love to do like that once in a while. Forever, maybe! I don’t know if it would get weird if I’m a 90-year-old in a closet, but I guess it started out a little weird. As a shorter answer, I’m hoping to do some more soon. That’s awesome. Do you have a dream guest? Will Ferrell is someone I admire so much, and I think would be so much fun in it. And it would be so much fun having someone taller than me in such a squashed space, where I’m usually lurking over someone. I read this quote from Bill Hader about how “SNL” writers are given this piece of advice that there’s a Venn diagram of what you find funny as a writer versus what the “SNL” audience finds funny, and your job is to hit that space in between. And he was saying he really admired you as a writer because you didn’t pander to what you thought audiences would find funny. You just ran with your own sense of humor. Do you think that that’s a fair assessment? [Laughs.] Well, it’s flattering. Bill has always been so nice to me. I would say it was initially because I couldn’t. It wasn’t a choice, I didn’t have the mainstream hard joke-writing skills coming out of the slightly more artistic-leaning Chicago improv scene. I didn’t have a lot of background in stand-up. I couldn’t have written a good joke for, say, Weekend Update, when I first arrived. And so I just kind of did what I do, which was writing scenes that were a little weirder. Then it has become more of a choice, even though I’ve developed those skills. I do like hearing people laugh. The goal is not awkward silence forever. But I don’t mind it a little bit. You had a year where you were a featured player in addition to being a writer. Can you talk a little bit about that experience? It had probably less of the emotional swings that people have in their first year as a featured player at “SNL” because I’d had four years of writing, knew the building, knew the people. So it wasn’t as overwhelming as it must be for some people. But I’d still say it was a lot. It was a whole new type of uncomfortableness and tension building on Friday and Saturday that you don’t quite get if you’re standing off-set outside the camera. It was extremely fun. It was a lot of things, but mostly really fun. It was cool to really get to live on the inside of that, see what it’s like to do weird 5 a.m. video shoots an hour outside of the city and all the little things you’re not involved in sometimes as a writer. Your comedy has a more absurd, avant-garde vein to it, which some people love but others find less accessible. Do you think that there is a certain kind of comedy that just doesn’t work on “SNL”? I don’t think so. It is an interesting question that I feel like we could debate or discuss for hours. Because it is harder to get things [on air] that are a little bit more odd. But the examples throughout the years would say that you can. Certainly Fred Armisen and a lot of people, have accomplished some of the weirdest stuff ever. And the Mr. Bill claymation. There are many recent examples, too. What we used to call the five-to-one sketches -- 12:55 a.m. is when they would be airing. Those are still very present every week; on Wednesday’s table reads there’s a whole bunch of them. Because there are a ton of writers there with very weird sensibilities and other staff support it and will laugh if it’s working. It does have a little bit of a hard time with that 8 o’clock dress rehearsal audience, but they get through still. So I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule where you have to go more mainstream. Lorne probably appreciates people doing what he hired them to do; the reason they stood out in their own hometown was not because they were doing something for the mainstream. So you don’t want to lose whatever that was. But it can also be hard because you’re counting how many [sketches] you got on that year, hoping not to get let go. It’s hard not to give into the temptation a bit. I remember a couple of times I tried to write a CNN cold opener to the show. Like “I should be able to do this too, I’m not just the weird end-of-the-show guy.” They didn’t go well. I am just the weird end-of-the show guy. Is there any part of you that wishes you were going to be there for election season? No. [Laughs.] I got to be there for an election and I felt like that aspect of the show I was watching from the outside, because my brain just doesn’t work like that. Seth Meyers, my old boss, can crank out a hilarious take on the debate right after the debate ends, but I could be at it for weeks, and be like, “I don’t know, should we have the podium catch fire?” And they’d be like no, that’s not a take on what happened, you’ve got to read about immigration stuff. And I’d go “I’m not going to read about that!” What do you think about Trump hosting? Well, he hosted before. It would be interesting to go back and watch. It was before I worked there. I just remember one sketch, I think John Lutz had him in a big pizza costume. But will he be good? I don’t know. My favorite hosts are always comedians, I’ll say that. And when people are hosting a comedy show and they’re not a comedian -- I think it is cool that "SNL" does that and should always have that -- but as a comedy nerd, I’m always excited for the next upcoming comedian or famous actor, and excited to put them in these comedic scenarios, [especially if] they’ve also played these famous straight roles like Robert De Niro or Jude Law. So yeah, I think Trump will be fine, but not as good as Will Ferrell. During your time on “SNL,” you were really known for your videos, and nowadays it seems like a lot of the most memorable segments are pre-taped. Do you think that the nature of “SNL” fundamentally changed in the post-Lonely Island era, now that the live sketches are increasingly competing with pre-taped footage? Is the live stuff being crowded out? That’s an interesting one. I’m not sure. Election years definitely bring it more back to the live show. But, yes, the Lonely Island guys definitely changed the ways that Lorne and the producers look at the running order and say, “We definitely want some video pieces in this.” Or “every episode, do we have a couple of good video pieces we’re excited about,” whereas before I assume that was less mandatory. Now, there’s got to be some of that. And they have great directors and crew standing by. But I think of course it’s always got to be a live show and that’s what makes it unique from other great shows, like “Portlandia” or “Key and Peele,” it’s that liveness that is so important. It’s been neat watching it from L.A. after six years of not missing a show in the building. I’m watching it here and it feels like an exciting night is happening, with all my friends back in New York, and that’s the feeling I probably had when I was 15 watching it too. The excitement vibe of "SNL" is more important than videos. Do you have any particularly memorable stories or moments from your time on the show? I’ve got a ton. Hmm... don’t want to do that one. I’ll come out with another round of them when I’m for sure never going to see anyone again. So I guess on my deathbed? [Laughs]. But just being at the show, running around, is so fun. Quick-change is when an actor has to go fully from one moment to the next with just a commercial break, so like two minutes. And there’s hair and makeup that just surround you and your clothes are being ripped off and new ones put on and your wig is being ripped off and a new one glued on, so it’s just like 10 hands around. So it’s very cool. That’s just an adrenaline rush that I think you can get addicted to, it’s so exciting from every department. A million of those types of moments, I’ll have those forever. Any specific "SNL 40" recollections? It was a great night. Everything was just surreal and it was too much. There were too many famous people in one room. I did get to go up to Jay Z and tell him I played him in a biopic we made. And it was definitely clear that he hadn’t seen it yet and had no idea what I could mean by that. But I assumed he had seen it because it had been a couple of weeks and I figured some assistant had shown it to him or something. But he just kind of smiled and nodded and I kept going, “I played you, man! I’m Mike! I played you! I was you!” And he was like, “Okay, alright.” He was like, "what are you talking about?" Yeah, like: “What? How?!”
Wealth therapy is a sick joke: Meet the 1 percenters finding solace in wealth redistribution
In a political and economic system seemingly tailor-made for the 1 percent, backlash against “wealth therapy” — the trend of moneyed Americans seeking counsel through their Occupy-induced feeling of shame and isolation — is well-placed. While the top 0.1 percent of families in the United States possess as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent, money psychologist Jamie Traege-Muney moaned to The Guardian that the movement wrongly “singled out the 1 percent and painted them globally as something negative.” But a growing cadre of this statistical owning class are now crafting a healthier relationship to the rabble at their doorstep. Responding to Occupy and other movement moments, young people with wealth are organizing the resources of their peers and families to level the playing field — and support one another in the process. “It’s not that I disagree that having wealth in this society is uncomfortable,” said organizer and donor Farhad Ebrahimi. “But treating it is not about individual therapy or even engaging in philanthropy or charity. It’s about collective action.” As a teenager, Ebrahimi was gifted a pool of wealth from his high-tech entrepreneur father. Growing up Iranian-American during the Iran-Iraq war was part of a “perfect storm” that led him to punk rock and radical politics, though for years Ebrahimi continued to identify more as a musician than an organizer. It was only later that he would conjoin his background with his beliefs. “I wasn’t even 100 percent sure they were compatible at first,” he explained. “I approached philanthropy pretty agnostically in the beginning.” Shortly after graduating from MIT in 2002, Ebrahimi founded the Chorus Foundation using $25 million of his personal money. Focused on funding projects to address climate change, Chorus is dedicated to “working for a just transition to a regenerative economy in the United States.” And unlike other foundations, Chorus has a built-in expiration date: intending to spend out the entirety of its — and Ebrahimi’s — reserves by 2024. While he expects another gift from his father at some point in the future, he says it will go toward a “Chorus Foundation Round Two” with the same goal. “I’m trying to put myself out of business,” Ebrahimi said. “And I’m trying to create a world in which someone would not end up in my situation of having been gifted more money than I possibly know what to do with.” Andrew Carnegie’s “Gospel of Wealth,” a bible of sorts for modern philanthropists, was penned at the height of the Gilded Age in 1889. Observing the continued accumulation and stratification of wealth that surrounded him, Carnegie declared it “a waste of time to criticize the inevitable,” seeing inequality — not unlike the contemporary economist Thomas Piketty — as a structural outcome of capitalism. He scorned the “socialists or anarchists who seek to overturn present conditions,” arguing that their plight “is to be regarded as attacking the foundation upon which civilization itself rests.” Much like Hillary Clinton did in last week’s Democratic debate, Carnegie argued that the wealthy have to “save capitalism from itself,” ameliorating its worst excesses by choosing to redistribute their own surplus. In doing so, he called on his fellow industrialists to “consider how the foundation, as one of the [capitalist] system’s most prominent offspring, might act most wisely to strengthen and improve its progenitor.” Organizer Abe Lateiner — who describes his giving as “spiritual and empowering work” — has a gospel that is noticeably distinct from Carnegie’s. Confronting the idea that society’s most well-off should pick which causes deserve funds, Lateiner warns that “Writing checks by yourself on New Year’s Eve is not liberating if you’re doing whatyou think is best — which is exactly what got us here.” “The isolation thing is very real,” Lateiner said of his affluent bretheren seeking wealth therapy. “There are very specific, non-material, damaging things that come with privilege.” Excess resources, he explained, “are wonderful for our material well-being, but destroy the spirit [and] our ability to connect socially.” Having grown up in a “solidly Democratic” household, Lateiner’s family never discussed money around the dinner table, and he struggled to explain his circumstances even to close friends. “My inability to talk about money or class on a personal level has definitely ruined relationships and cut off opportunities for relationships,” Lateiner said. “I mean that as friendships and romantic relationships and everything in between.” Having taught for six years — something he described as “the best way, within my liberal framework, I could think of to give back” — Lateiner came across an article in the New York Times in 2012 about young, socially conscious heirs, including Naomi Sobel and Resource Generation executive director Jessie Spector. “The ground started to shift under my feet,” Lateiner remembered. Not only were Sobel and Spector speaking openly about their wealth and about giving it away; they were happy about it. He looked Resource Generation up online and quickly became involved. This collective version of wealth therapy emerged from “being able to be with people who understand [the problems of having wealth] and can honor them to get past the guilt.” A national, chapter-based organization, Resource Generation serves as a space for both support and political education among young people with wealth. More recently, it has also become a platform for them to leverage resources toward “an equitable redistribution of land, wealth and power.” An initiative launched last year called “It Starts Today” collaborated with racial justice groups around the country to raise $1.4 million for the movement for black lives and other black-led organizing. While Ebrahimi has worked with Resource Generation, he’s also been involved with the upstart funders’ network Solidaire, which looks to combine Resource Generation’s political analysis and support structures with a commitment to moving sizable resources toward burgeoning movements. Founded in the wake of Occupy in 2012, Solidaire’s grants have backed everything from the People’s Climate March to on-the-ground mobilizations in Ferguson, Missouri to work against the Trans-Pacific Partnership. Three classes of grants support movements at different stages in their development, be it in “movement moments” like Darren Wilson’s non-indictment, or building out long-term infrastructure for when reporters stop calling. Apart from Solidaire, Ebrahimi also noted that Occupy marked a kind of sea change among more mainstream funders’ circles, who are now more open than ever to cross-issue conversations centered on justice. Black Lives Matter co-founder Alicia Garza, for instance, was invited to speak at the Environmental Grantmakers’ Association’s annual conference this year — a small step, but something Ebrahimi said would have been virtually unheard of just a few years ago. Both Ebrahimi and Lateiner emphasized the importance of honesty when approaching movements as people with wealth. While he was involved in Occupy Boston, Ebrahimi walked around the Dewey Square encampment with a shirt bearing the words “I am the 1%… I stand with the 99%.” “There was a time when I was scared that anybody with good politics would be inherently wary of somebody sitting on a pile of gifted money,” he recalled. But being clear about his background from the outset was met with more excitement than derision. Instead of worrying about being judged by his fellow occupiers, Ebrahimi “could focus on trying to support a political moment that I thought was important, making a bunch of new friends and having all sorts of crazy adventures. It really never had to be an elephant in the room that I was a rich kid with a foundation.” Meanwhile, Lateiner has started dressing up rather than down in movement spaces, where being open about his wealth has enabled him to build trust with working class organizers. “I have to be careful about the way I choose to speak and behave in those spaces,” he said. “But I’m not going to deny who I am.” While acknowledging the trials of extreme wealth, Lateiner, Ebrahimi and other forward-thinking heirs are turning to one another for support, not so-called money psychologists. They take solace, too, in putting their personal resources to work. “Under a scarcity mentality, we’re taught to see giving as losing something, rather than seeing it as getting to be part of justice,” Lateiner said. And for the wealthy, he added, being a part of justice means not getting to define it. “I think the best work happens when people who are funding it get the hell out of the way.” For solutions, they turn to movements. As opposed to Carnegie, this new breed of philanthropists reject their so-called “obligations” to capitalism, and are eager to help build a fundamentally different economy. “When we respond to the crisis of income inequality, we’re really responding to the crisis of consolidated wealth,” Ebrahimi explained. “What that says to me is that we’re trying to create a world in which there is no radically consolidated wealth. Without that, you don’t have any foundations” — or, at least, any wealth therapists.
In a political and economic system seemingly tailor-made for the 1 percent, backlash against “wealth therapy” — the trend of moneyed Americans seeking counsel through their Occupy-induced feeling of shame and isolation — is well-placed. While the top 0.1 percent of families in the United States possess as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent, money psychologist Jamie Traege-Muney moaned to The Guardian that the movement wrongly “singled out the 1 percent and painted them globally as something negative.” But a growing cadre of this statistical owning class are now crafting a healthier relationship to the rabble at their doorstep. Responding to Occupy and other movement moments, young people with wealth are organizing the resources of their peers and families to level the playing field — and support one another in the process. “It’s not that I disagree that having wealth in this society is uncomfortable,” said organizer and donor Farhad Ebrahimi. “But treating it is not about individual therapy or even engaging in philanthropy or charity. It’s about collective action.” As a teenager, Ebrahimi was gifted a pool of wealth from his high-tech entrepreneur father. Growing up Iranian-American during the Iran-Iraq war was part of a “perfect storm” that led him to punk rock and radical politics, though for years Ebrahimi continued to identify more as a musician than an organizer. It was only later that he would conjoin his background with his beliefs. “I wasn’t even 100 percent sure they were compatible at first,” he explained. “I approached philanthropy pretty agnostically in the beginning.” Shortly after graduating from MIT in 2002, Ebrahimi founded the Chorus Foundation using $25 million of his personal money. Focused on funding projects to address climate change, Chorus is dedicated to “working for a just transition to a regenerative economy in the United States.” And unlike other foundations, Chorus has a built-in expiration date: intending to spend out the entirety of its — and Ebrahimi’s — reserves by 2024. While he expects another gift from his father at some point in the future, he says it will go toward a “Chorus Foundation Round Two” with the same goal. “I’m trying to put myself out of business,” Ebrahimi said. “And I’m trying to create a world in which someone would not end up in my situation of having been gifted more money than I possibly know what to do with.” Andrew Carnegie’s “Gospel of Wealth,” a bible of sorts for modern philanthropists, was penned at the height of the Gilded Age in 1889. Observing the continued accumulation and stratification of wealth that surrounded him, Carnegie declared it “a waste of time to criticize the inevitable,” seeing inequality — not unlike the contemporary economist Thomas Piketty — as a structural outcome of capitalism. He scorned the “socialists or anarchists who seek to overturn present conditions,” arguing that their plight “is to be regarded as attacking the foundation upon which civilization itself rests.” Much like Hillary Clinton did in last week’s Democratic debate, Carnegie argued that the wealthy have to “save capitalism from itself,” ameliorating its worst excesses by choosing to redistribute their own surplus. In doing so, he called on his fellow industrialists to “consider how the foundation, as one of the [capitalist] system’s most prominent offspring, might act most wisely to strengthen and improve its progenitor.” Organizer Abe Lateiner — who describes his giving as “spiritual and empowering work” — has a gospel that is noticeably distinct from Carnegie’s. Confronting the idea that society’s most well-off should pick which causes deserve funds, Lateiner warns that “Writing checks by yourself on New Year’s Eve is not liberating if you’re doing whatyou think is best — which is exactly what got us here.” “The isolation thing is very real,” Lateiner said of his affluent bretheren seeking wealth therapy. “There are very specific, non-material, damaging things that come with privilege.” Excess resources, he explained, “are wonderful for our material well-being, but destroy the spirit [and] our ability to connect socially.” Having grown up in a “solidly Democratic” household, Lateiner’s family never discussed money around the dinner table, and he struggled to explain his circumstances even to close friends. “My inability to talk about money or class on a personal level has definitely ruined relationships and cut off opportunities for relationships,” Lateiner said. “I mean that as friendships and romantic relationships and everything in between.” Having taught for six years — something he described as “the best way, within my liberal framework, I could think of to give back” — Lateiner came across an article in the New York Times in 2012 about young, socially conscious heirs, including Naomi Sobel and Resource Generation executive director Jessie Spector. “The ground started to shift under my feet,” Lateiner remembered. Not only were Sobel and Spector speaking openly about their wealth and about giving it away; they were happy about it. He looked Resource Generation up online and quickly became involved. This collective version of wealth therapy emerged from “being able to be with people who understand [the problems of having wealth] and can honor them to get past the guilt.” A national, chapter-based organization, Resource Generation serves as a space for both support and political education among young people with wealth. More recently, it has also become a platform for them to leverage resources toward “an equitable redistribution of land, wealth and power.” An initiative launched last year called “It Starts Today” collaborated with racial justice groups around the country to raise $1.4 million for the movement for black lives and other black-led organizing. While Ebrahimi has worked with Resource Generation, he’s also been involved with the upstart funders’ network Solidaire, which looks to combine Resource Generation’s political analysis and support structures with a commitment to moving sizable resources toward burgeoning movements. Founded in the wake of Occupy in 2012, Solidaire’s grants have backed everything from the People’s Climate March to on-the-ground mobilizations in Ferguson, Missouri to work against the Trans-Pacific Partnership. Three classes of grants support movements at different stages in their development, be it in “movement moments” like Darren Wilson’s non-indictment, or building out long-term infrastructure for when reporters stop calling. Apart from Solidaire, Ebrahimi also noted that Occupy marked a kind of sea change among more mainstream funders’ circles, who are now more open than ever to cross-issue conversations centered on justice. Black Lives Matter co-founder Alicia Garza, for instance, was invited to speak at the Environmental Grantmakers’ Association’s annual conference this year — a small step, but something Ebrahimi said would have been virtually unheard of just a few years ago. Both Ebrahimi and Lateiner emphasized the importance of honesty when approaching movements as people with wealth. While he was involved in Occupy Boston, Ebrahimi walked around the Dewey Square encampment with a shirt bearing the words “I am the 1%… I stand with the 99%.” “There was a time when I was scared that anybody with good politics would be inherently wary of somebody sitting on a pile of gifted money,” he recalled. But being clear about his background from the outset was met with more excitement than derision. Instead of worrying about being judged by his fellow occupiers, Ebrahimi “could focus on trying to support a political moment that I thought was important, making a bunch of new friends and having all sorts of crazy adventures. It really never had to be an elephant in the room that I was a rich kid with a foundation.” Meanwhile, Lateiner has started dressing up rather than down in movement spaces, where being open about his wealth has enabled him to build trust with working class organizers. “I have to be careful about the way I choose to speak and behave in those spaces,” he said. “But I’m not going to deny who I am.” While acknowledging the trials of extreme wealth, Lateiner, Ebrahimi and other forward-thinking heirs are turning to one another for support, not so-called money psychologists. They take solace, too, in putting their personal resources to work. “Under a scarcity mentality, we’re taught to see giving as losing something, rather than seeing it as getting to be part of justice,” Lateiner said. And for the wealthy, he added, being a part of justice means not getting to define it. “I think the best work happens when people who are funding it get the hell out of the way.” For solutions, they turn to movements. As opposed to Carnegie, this new breed of philanthropists reject their so-called “obligations” to capitalism, and are eager to help build a fundamentally different economy. “When we respond to the crisis of income inequality, we’re really responding to the crisis of consolidated wealth,” Ebrahimi explained. “What that says to me is that we’re trying to create a world in which there is no radically consolidated wealth. Without that, you don’t have any foundations” — or, at least, any wealth therapists.
Viva Sexy Pizza Rat: Shaming sexy Halloween costumes doesn’t help women achieve equality
Every year in October, feminist blogs and social media light up with outrage over the supposed scourge of "sexy" Halloween costumes. People share photos of the worst offenders, usually costumes that sex-ify something usually not seen as sexy, such as "sexy ebola" or "sexy Big Bird". (Which was actually no sexier than a standard flapper dress.) The argument against these costumes is that they are sexually objectifying and degrading in their assumption that sexiness should be part of Halloween anyway. Well, there's a bit of information in Claire Suddath's piece in Bloomberg Business on Halloween costumes that should give people pause before they express outrage at yet another round of goofy/sexy costumes on sale this year: The people who make them are making big money off your outrage. The annual outrage-fest drives visitors to the sites of places like Yandy, and even though you are supposedly visiting it to be outraged, a lot of you end up buying costumes from them anyway. This is such a profitable marketing strategy that Yandy, the biggest costume maker, actually designs outrageous "sexy" costumes that they know no one will actually wear. It doesn't matter, as long as people are sharing links to express outrage and driving visitors to the site, visitors who will buy another costume. So yeah, they designed that "sexy pizza rat" costume specifically so you would share it in Facebook, lamenting about how the world is going to hell, and your friends would all buy costumes off the link. Very few women will likely dress as sexy pizza rat, but the free advertising they got off the costume did the trick. It is true that I don't think "they just want attention, so don't give it to them" is a crappy argument. Sometimes giving racist, sexist trolls attention is just the price you have to pay in order to highlight very real problems with racism and sexism in our society. But that's only when the source of outrage is legitimate. The problem with all the hand-wringing over sexy Halloween costumes is that it doesn't really make sense. So what if some women want to flash a little T&A on Halloween? Who, exactly, are they hurting with this behavior? These costumes are clearly meant to be worn to parties, not the office. You know, social occasions where the point is to have fun, flirt and maybe get laid. Maybe you already have a partner you want to tease a little with the sexy costume. Maybe you have a guy whose attention you're trying to get. Maybe you just like attention. Not one of those desires is wrong. If being sexy Cookie Monster makes you laugh, more power to you. The world is a dark place a lot of the time, and people deserve to shake it up and have fun. I used to go along with the outrage-fest over sexy pizza rats and children's characters. But I read Dan Savage point out what should have been obvious, which that the whole point of Halloween is for people to let their freak flag fly a little. He calls it the straight version of Gay Pride festivals. I'd add that it's reminiscent of Mardi Gras. His argument shamed me. I am not averse, personally, to dressing sexy when the occasion calls for it. I live in New York, where no one even looks at you twice if you're wearing knee-high boots with miniskirts and I take full advantage of that. I marched in Slut Walk. I think Amber Rose kicks ass. There's nothing inherently wrong with dressing sexy, and sneering at women who want to use Halloween to express that side of themselves is, well, slut-shaming. Sure, there's a lot of problems you could point out. I'm often told the problem is that "sexy" costumes are the only ones for sale for women. But that's not really a fair argument. Yandy-type costumes are explicitly marketed to people who don't really care about costuming as an art, but just want to wear something cheap and sexy to go to a party. People who are interested in something other than that already don't buy costumes from Yandy. People who want a costume that says something more than "this is a cheap thing I grabbed off the rack to wear to a last-minute party" make their own (as I'm doing with my Batgirl costume this year) or they go to a site like Etsy or Chasing Fireflies instead. Then there's the fact that costumes marketed to straight men tend to be more goofy than sexy. But you know, that's kind of their loss, too. A lot of men would probably, if left to their own devices, like to flaunt it for the ladies, but our culture tends to code that behavior as weird and to shame it. And no doubt some women feel a lot of pressure to look "sexy" all the time, even when it's really a bad idea. Anyone who has lived near a college campus in the winter and seen young women chattering their teeth because they went outside with bare legs and no coat over their minidresses can attest to that. But these problems stem from much deeper issues, namely a deep power imbalance between men and women, particularly young men and women. As Rebecca Traister writes in her new piece in New York Magazine about this power imbalance:
Students I spoke to talked about “male sexual entitlement,” the expectation that male sexual needs take priority, with men presumed to take sex and women presumed to give it to them. They spoke of how men set the terms, host the parties, provide the alcohol, exert the influence. Male attention and approval remain the validating metric of female worth, and women are still (perhaps increasingly) expected to look and fuck like porn stars — plucked, smooth, their pleasure performed persuasively. Meanwhile, male climax remains the accepted finish of hetero encounters; a woman’s orgasm is still the elusive, optional bonus round.Traister's column focuses on hook-up culture, but the larger, more bitter truth is this power dynamic is found everywhere. More than a few women in monogamous relationships have found themselves wondering why they do so much work to make sex sexy for male partners who often can't even be bothered to ask what they want. The issue isn't even really about sex at all, but about power. Which is why I can't really be too annoyed with feminists who outrage at sexy Halloween costumes, even if I disagree with them. Railing against sexy Halloween costumes is a way to rail against these larger dynamics, a way to express discontent over the fact that women are expected to satisfy but not expect satisfaction themselves. But getting rid of the costumes won't do anything to change that. Women aren't going to get men to treat us like equals by covering our bodies. (See here and here and here for evidence of that.) If anything, the only way to get it into men's heads that they need to treat women with respect is to make it clear that respecting a woman and wanting to have sex with her are not mutually exclusive desires. (For all you know, the woman you're judging for her sexy banana costume might have a loving partner who shares the housework with her but just has a fruit fetish that she's trying to indulge.) Getting men to change their minds is a lot more work than shaming women for wearing sexy Bert and Ernie costumes. But it's the only real solution to the problem that troubles us.
