Musicians as NGOs

Now that anybody with a half decent internet connection can download any music they want, how will musicians survive?

Will musicians start to make their music available for free and ask for donations? Would be great, and skip all the music industry. Of course there will be free(down)loaders, but I would imagine they will be enough people who will realise that without people spending some money on them, they will stop creating music (or at least making it available).

But then again, artists in hardship, and often poverty, have often produced their best work.

Should art never be a profession?

Hello weekend

It's the weekend! I've got my weekend pants on, there is a bike downstairs that has "ride me" written all over it and I'm meeting mates for an afternoon of polo. Man life looks good from the 10th floor!

The week also allowed me to get more or less back on top of my work, and then on Friday afternoon I had what would be a pretty average call with a campaigner which left me with loads of action points to get an awesome project rolling. If there wasn't such a good Saturday ahead, I'd like to start working on them straight away.

Cheers for life on this scorched earth!

Love and respect.

Comment Spam

Thanks to all of you who leave comments on my blog. Unfortunately I've been getting a lot of spam comments, so I've turned on word verification. You'll have to type in some words before posting your comment. Sorry about the extra effort, and that you will no longer be tempted with amazing investment opportunities every time you read the comments on the blog,

Did you know I've started up another blog? It's about environmental stuff in Amsterdam and you can find it here: http://ecoamsterdam.blogspot.com/

On being assaulted in Amsterdam

In the last 24hrs I was assaulted twice in Amsterdam. Nothing serious, but as with any assault, they shook me a bit.

I have been assaulted before in Cape Town (a number of times, and more violently than in the above instances) but in all of those times it has been by people wanting something from me. In Amsterdam, most people have what they want and there is a lot of social "support" for people who don't. I use the inverted commas as the support is often in the form of being arrested and imprisoned.

In both of the recent cases, I have felt that the people involved have behaved as if they were trapped. Not only physically but emotionally, as if they are being forced to act in a certain way - and it is not surprising that many of their actions have a very close resemblance to bad TV. Being in such a controlled society though, I did not feel unsafe in either situation, more concerned for the people involved - their (re)actions were at the same time comical and sad.

In the second case it was also interesting to see the people around me get involved. The assaulter got very little out of his interaction with me, and so, quickly started to argue with people who had stepped in on my "side", who provided him with much more of a reaction. As I cycled away, the argument continued and seemed to be getting more intense.

It feels as if there is constantly a fight brewing beneath the surface of this society, and I think it is because of our increasing isolation from each other.

We should start talking to each other more.

my snow haiku

snow brings white safety
as she reclaims humans concrete world
but hubris soon shows

A buffet with no eating

This has to be a first for me. I went to the Christmas party at the GP NL office tonight, and did not eat anything from the most amazing buffet.

Shew, the sacrifice! Hermann, the agriculture campaigner in the Dutch office did make a very good point though, that it should be all right - it was all vegetarian. Not eating for a day is one thing, but if we all ate less, and particularly ate less meat, we would be doing something very achievable and very positive for the climate. In the words of Michael Pollan:

Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

Getting over hunger...

I'm going strong (you'll be relieved to hear), just a little light headed.

I've been keeping up with the news rolling in from COP15 and it doesn't sound great - civil society has been kicked out. However there was a voice of reason in amongst all the madness, Bolivian President Evo Morales. Said some good things about mother earth.

I'm going to cycle across A'dam in the snow this evening to attend the GP NL party, bit worried, but shouldn't be too hard.

Obama arrives tomorrow, and hopefully with some good news in tow.

Love and respect.

Climate Justice Fast!

It's been described as a moral response to an immoral situation. Thousands of people (me included) around the world are fasting today to raise awareness of the need for a FAB (Fair, Ambitious and (legally) Binding) Treaty at the COP 15 Climate talks in Copenhagen.

The only reason for me to fast is that I think I have been robbed of my voice in so many ways with regards to what is happening to our earth and landbase. This is an act of desperation. While I had the opportunity to go to Copenhagen and participate in actions of NGOs there, I think my work in Amsterdam is as important, and I am more effective here than I would be there. The pessimist in me says that there is just no way to talk to our leaders (sic) who are all, quite literally, insane.

I still am not sure what impact it will have, I can't see how it will help bring about a FAB deal, but it is what I can do where I am.

My thoughts will be with the activists on the ground in Copenhagen and the delegates in the Bella Centre today.

Love and respect.

Greenpeace UK telling it like it is...

Barefoot running updated

I am now doing a regular 4.5km route at least twice a week. It is mainly on paving/tar, but includes grass and a dirt path. The hardest/best part is running through a shopping area (only about 100m) and the looks and comments I get.

I do worry a bit about running in the cold as my feet can get numb and then I worry that I won't feel any cuts. This in turn makes me a bit paranoid and so anything I feel I stop to check in case I'm bleeding. What this is slowly making me realise is that feet are a lot more robust than I thought.

After the first time I did this route, I got some serious blisters, particularly on the front of my feet and on my second toes. My second toes are quite skew (the result of being crammed into shoes all their life no doubt), and so they hit the ground on the bottom and side. I had hoped the blisters would become harder skin - they have now gone, and my feet seem to be getting tougher, although not noticeably were the blisters where.

So all in all, my feet are slowly taking to the barefoot thing. I could have probably started slower with less discomfort, but I am a little impatient :-)

Yet another great idea...

Introducing the audienceometer.

An essential piece of equipment for the modern person (good for both genders). The audienceometer (AM) behaves very much like the studio audience in a sitcom, except it is tuned in to "real life". The next time you make a stupid mistake like saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, the AM goes ooooooohh, thereby alerting you to your folly and allowing you to immediately correct your blunder or social faux pas.

When you say something really cute and positive to someone, it goes aaaaaahh, allowing you to then immediately correct it (if it was actually your worst enemy), or point two fingers at the person and click as you shoot your "guns" signalling your knowledge of how cool and caring you are.

Particularly helpful is the laughter at times of even mild humour, which boosts your own self confidence and allows you to continue telling stupid jokes long after you should have stopped. By this time people should be laughing at you, further helping you to think that your high school career counsellor was right about Stand-up Comedian.

The AM has the objectivity of an American teenager (additional maturity upgrade sold separately), and it's keen sense of social decorum is only enhanced by the user drinking heavily.

The AM is the size of a jelly bean and fits discreetly into the user's ear. It is only audible to the user to ensure you are unable to hear conflicting signals from potential other user's AMs (these things will soon be EVERYWHERE!)

---

Batteries sold separately, no liability is accepted for AMs incorrect judgement. "Helping you be successful with other Emotional Failures" and the AM logo are copyright of the Consumer Crap Corporation.

Barefoot running

So with the failure of all searches for ethical running shoes (and let's not lie, if you're paying money for it, you can guarantee it's got something bad attached to it) I went for my first barefoot run yesterday.

I hope it won't be the last, it went pretty well. Well, until I got back that was. As I was stopping on the wooden walk way to the entrance of my plattenbau, I slipped on the smooth surface and my right foot shot forward and wedged itself in between said walkway and the little ramp up to the door. Ow. So my right toe is now swollen, and I don't think any running will happen for a while! Oh well, once it's healed I'll be back to barefoot.

Interesting fact is that apparently barefoot runners experience less repetitive stress injuries than runners running in shoes. This is evident in the Nike Free running shoes series and the Vibram Five Fingers, both shoes designed to simulate barefoot running (the five fingers is more a rubber foot glove...).

So welcome barefoot running, welcome the future. Goodbye toxic chemicals in running shoes, goodbye worrying about running shoe makers working conditions.

I'll let you know how it goes...

Eating Saturday morning

So I woke up at 1... and let myself loose on the streets of Berlin on the way to Oranienburg. I was feeling less than well, after getting back late (6) from a place who's name I don't remember. I walked to UFO and stocked up. I bought a mix im brot (haloumi and falafel in pita - goodness), a coke (big red ambulance, you know), an ayran and a piece of baklava. The baklava and coke I stowed in my pockets, and the ayran I downed, leaving only the mix im brot for the tram ride from Eberswalde to Nordbahnhof. Rode past the wall memorial - Berlin is truly an amazing city. By the time I reached Nbahnhof the mix was finished and getting out of the tram I opened up the coke (glass bottle, very cool) and headed into the underground S-bahn station.

There I sat on a bench on the platform, looking at the station name written in great old German gothic script. I sat with my legs crossed under me, and felt like a rock star (as you do). Having finished the coke I said to myself I could only eat the baklava once I was in the sun again. The s-bahn came, I sat next to a window and waited. Soon we were out of the tunnel and the baklava was the perfect sweet end to a fantastic meal. With my head against the window and the autumnal leaves flashing by I drifted in and out of sleep. Once I got to Orianienburg I walked off the s-bahn tossing the tinfoil from my mix into the air, and was feeling like a million dollars - exactly the feeling you need for baroque theatre in the landesgartenschau (think Chelsea flower show outdoors and in German).

Long time no post

So it's been a while, partly because I've been spending my time setting up ecoamsterdam.blogspot.com (yes, check it out!).

So a little something for now, written on a Saturday afternoon in a beer garden in Berlin:

Almost an afternoon in Prater...

I mean, it's just so unbelievably cool. The sun shining through the trees and clouds, landing golden in my beer. The diving board rusting and used now only as a light post. No swimming pool to dive into, just a concrete play place for children. And play they do, with the stones and anything else to hand. The small brown birds that are infused in Berlin's ground and flower beds gather, steal, depart. The cold of winter and Russian tanks and clinging waiting seems to lurk in the wind, but it is not here yet. The sun shines through the clouds again and friends and more beer arrive. I have picked up summers end and found it has all the flavour of the memories made by millions throughout this city of permanence and transience.

Computer (f).

Computers were clearly a male invention, something there primarily to increase production, and help those (mostly males) at the top destroy the world a lot faster than they were doing before computers arrived.

I've been asking myself (and others) what a computer designed (and invented?) by a woman would look like. Okay more than just look like, how would it function? It amazes how often women struggle with computers when in my experience most men seem to understand them intuitively (or is it just that men never ask for help!).

The answer that I've gotten from a number of people is that a woman would not invent a computer. I think that's it, but I'm still intrigued by my own question (ah thank you) though and would love a really creative answer. For a start, I think it would have more inputs than just a mouse and a keyboard (maybe some frikkin voice recognition :-). Something more intuitive - how do you take the motion of picking cherries and turn it into a computer input device? Okay, hopefully I'll come back to this question...

Mamma always told me...

To learn to touch type.

And being a young male adolescent and the last child (see, I would be touch typing if I had a younger brother.... clearly), I can clearly remember sitting in the dining room at the computer saying, now worries mum, when I grow up keyboards will be a thing of the past. I was firm believer in voice recognition software, and to be fair, we did have a very basic package in the house (yep, even back in the day) and it could capture the gist of what I was saying, but clearly things never progressed much beyond that.

I guess though that a software that is to be sold on the mass market would never be able to adjust or adapt to the millions of different voices in the world, not to mention languages, not to mention accents. And that's the thing about a successful product it can be used by everyone everywhere. So here I sit, not being able to touch type (as well as I'd like) and without any flippin voice recognition.

So now I have installed addictive typing on both my work and home computers and am trying to do at least 10 minutes a day. I'm getting better, but I'm sure as my mother predicted, it is much harder to relearn to type properly than to just do it.

Rest assured that if I ever have children they will be persuaded to learn to type, but I'll at least be giving them a Dvorak keyboard, because this whole qwerty nonsense is way past its sell by date.

Damn it, keep typing those b's with both pointing fingers...

How much is enough?

So starting from the fact that we're all aware their is big trouble on the horizon for the world.

How much of what we do is enough? What do you have to do in order to be satisfied you will be leaving a world set to support your children through their lifetimes? When should you stop working for a better world and relax with the people you love (if your work doesn't include them)?

I don't know, but looking at the way things are going, I would say we could still take it up a notch!

A scary climate vision

I've just finished reading Greenpeace's Climate Vision. It's the organisations vision for stopping anthropocentric climate change.

The scariest thing was the figures - emissions need to peak by 2015 and sink to 0 by 2050. 0, that means NO C02 emmissions. This is to stop the worst, not to save everything.

What I appreciated though was their directness in showing on page 16 that we might actually have to change our lifestyle in order to bring about these decreases. It's pretty clear to me, and I think anyone who thinks about it for any serious length of time - we cannot go on living like we are, if we don't change, we will be forced to.

What thoughts?

I wonder what the dreams and thoughts of the person that cleans rental cars is. As they sweep out dirt from all over their home country, do they imagine the stories behind it?

The leaves and pollen and damp from when a careless tourist left the window down during a sudden cloud burst atop an ancient hill,

The small stones from a rough beach which pressed into a couples skin between swims as they drank the setting sun together on a beach talking about mythical beasts and scared tourists,

The mud from a hurried and careless stop for a toilet break in between honey ice-cream and airplane enforced deadlines,

The pet hair from a borrowed cat that belonged to a busy woman and was caught between being loved and wished away by holiday makers caught up in orange juice breakfasts and using-up-the-left-overs dinners,

The soil from mountain trails that led to waterfalls of inspiration and healing and waterfalls of tears over the death of a family member not on this particular holiday,

And maybe though they never noticed it the, tiny bits of animal faeces that worked its way into grooves of shoes that took owners to make all to brief acquaintances with the animals of the cleaners country,

Do they feel their country has been turned to dirt by foreigners too rich to care that this dirt is their landbase, or do they rejoice that this dirt represents new dreams fulfilled and experiences won?

Dreaming of JZ

I put it down to being sick, finishing "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" by Haruki Murakami and running a mild temperature, but I was dreaming about JZ the other day.

He was pretty much the thread running through a very long and lucid dream. For those not in the know, JZ refers to our new president - Jacob Zuma. Judging by the howls of protest I gave rise to a while ago when I intimated that I might not be too worried about him becoming president, I imagine that many of the people who read my online mumblings are not too pleased with South Africa's new president. I know I tread on thin ice when I talk about him.

But back to my dream - the recurring theme in it was me teaching JZ to shake hands like anybody cool and vaguely African does in Cape Town, particularly in the townships. He wasn't too good at this, so I really had to give him some training (you be pleased to know that by the end of the dream he was getting the hang of it). What struck me was the size of his hands - they were really big, something I've always admired (I'm not sure this is the right word, but "been attracted to" also didn't seem right!). In exchange for my spending the time teaching him to shake hands, he was introducing me to a variety of wonderful people.

He was not introducing them to me personally, but rather giving me clues and hints as to where I might find them. I can only remember one group that I met (although I know there were more). They were a family group (but with no father - in fact I only remember the mother and one of the girls) all sleeping in an old hospital which looked like what I imagine one of the original wings of Groote Schuur (a hospital in Cape Town) must have looked like. Although I didn't have any meaningful conversation with them or any of the people I met in the dream through JZ, I received an amazing feeling of warmth from them, and hugging them hello felt like being welcomed back to a warm holiday hut from a cold and rainy night.

I still believe we could have done far worse than Jacob Zuma for president, yes, he has done and said some really crazy and stupid things, but he seems to be interested in the people of South Africa and getting them a better deal. I don't have an interest in defending him, and I'm sure many of his decisions that will be made will need some defending to some extent or another. I do think South Africa will be in a better shape after the next five years than it is now, and that interests me.

I was very privileged to meet Nelson Mandela once, on the Main Road in Rondebosch, late at night, and I remember the formal handshake that I gave (or was offered by) him. It was a lot different to the practising of local handshake used by ordinary everyday South Africans in dusty taxi ranks and fitful dreams.