Culture – Page 5 – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Find Beauty When and Where You Can

Stop and smell the roses

A Mastodon user sent me a direct message the other day asking why I felt so comfortable doing what I do every morning, which is posting a “Good Morning” toot featuring photos I’ve taken of flowers, tree leaves changing color, other shots of nature, holiday ornaments, etc….

The context of the query was criticizing how I could continue to do that every morning given all of the terrible things going on in the United States, things I also rightfully describe on social media as horrors.

I get it. Believe me I get it. I’m overwhelmed at times as well. But my response was and is simple.

Stop and smell the roses.

While there are indeed horrors happening in the world there is always beauty. If we don’t take a moment to see and acknowledge the beauty around us and the spontaneity of discovering it, whether it be in nature, in very human moments, in a museum, a gallery, a stage, a movie theater, a concert hall, a photograph, a child’s laugh, or in a story, then what the hell are we fighting for?

I’m convinced those we are fighting against don’t see or even care to see the beauty around and within us, unless it involves increasing their bank account balances.

Sometimes you need to stop and smell the roses. I prefer doing so in the mornings, before I put on my armor to meet the challenges of the day.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

Watching Ken Burns’ The American Revolution

Context is everything

Started watching Ken Burns’ The American Revolution last night. It sounds almost trite, but it’s typical Ken Burns (and his collaborators) historical documentary excellence.

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What struck me is how I’m hearing things I’ve read and heard over and over again about the period leading up to the American Revolution. So far, (only two episodes in) the history is as I studied it. And by studying it, I mean well below the surface of the myths folks of my generation were taught in school.

I’m not hearing things differently, but I’m hearing how folks can take their own meaning out of many of the things written and said during that period that led to this country’s founding. History may indeed rhyme, but it also echoes. Often in strange ways.

That’s certainly true if all you hang your tri-cornered hat on are the myths.

Sunday Morning Reading

Small acts

It’s only business they say. Nothing personal. That’s the way the world works. Well, what I share each week in Sunday Morning Reading always comes from a place of personal interest. That may not be how the world works, but it works for me and I hope it does for you. Call it a small act.

In the wake of the continuing and confounding ICE occupation of Chicago comes a terrific piece by Kyle Kingsbury called I Want You To Understand Chicago.

Follow that up with a ProPublica piece by Melissa Sanches, Jodi S. Cohen, T. Christian Miller, Sebastian Rotella and Mariam Elba about the nighttime raid on a Chicago apartment building that featured men rappelling from Black Hawk helicopters, and all of the residents emptied on to the streets with many of their belongings. The punchline is in the article’s title, “I Lost Everything”; Venezuelans Were Rounded Up In A Dramatic Midnight Raid But Never Charged With A Crime.

A Nation of Heroes, A Senate Of Cowards by Will Bunch calls it like it is and much the way I see things after last weekend’s actions in the U.S. Senate.

Growing up, I never understood the cliché, “it’s nothing personal, it’s only business.” Frankly I still don’t. It excuses too much that I find wrong about the way the world works. Charles Broskoski examines the personal side in Personal Business.

And speaking of the way the world works (or doesn’t) in the midst of the Epstein fever I don’t think we’ll ever shake, Sarah Lyons points out that the violence in his and others’ actions is something we all live with in This Is How The World Works. It shouldn’t be.

Corbin Trent says We Didn’t Kill American Manufacturing—We Let It Die. He’s spot on.

Mark Jacob tells us How News Coverage Eases Us Into Tyranny. However this saga we’re living through ends up, one thing is for certain. The media has killed any chance of returning to what it once was.

Hardly a day goes by that we don’t read of some nefarious business practice spilling out of Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta. Turns out Meta is knowingly leeching off of scammers to the tune of about 10 percent of its revenue. I guess that makes Meta and Zuckerberg a scammer too. Cath Virginia has the writeup with Meta Must Rein In Scammers — Or Face Consequences. I doubt they will.

The Internet Archive is under attack in the same way libraries, media organizations, and text book publishing is. It shouldn’t be. Mathew Ingram has the lowdown in The Internet Archive Should Be Protected Not Attacked.

On a more positive note, Jeff Veen tells us how Small Acts Build Great Cultures. Boy, do we need lots of small acts these days.

To close out, did you ever wonder where collective nouns like “a watch of nightingales” or “an ostentation of peacocks” come from? For many years it was assumed that the anonymous author of this collection of collective nouns was the work of a “gentleman of excellent gifts” written down in one of the first books printed after the invention of The Gutenberg Press, The Book of Hawking, Hunting, and Blazing of Arms. Turns out the author was a woman named Juliana Barnes. Maria Popova has the story in A Parliament of Owls And A Murder Of Crows: How Groups Of Birds Got Their Names, With Wondrous Vintage Illustrations By Brian Wordsmith.

(Image form Ganesh Narahanan on Unsplash)

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

Little Feat Wraps It Up

Feats never let me down

News this week that one of my favorite bands of all time, Little Feat, is retiring after a final tour brought back quite a few memories. The Last Farewell Tour will kick off next spring and run through two years, promoting the band and their latest album, Strike Up The Band.

Little Feat - Feats Don't Fail Me Now.

As for those memories, in what seems like a lifetime ago when I was in college I had an assistantship in the theatre department’s scene shop. When touring acts came to campus we’d sometimes be assigned to help with load in and load out, and occasionally help run the show.

Little Feat was promoting what would become one of my favorite of their albums, Feats Don’t Fail Me Now, while opening for Joe Cocker, another of my favorites. I got the assignment to run follow spot for the gig. Up until that point I wasn’t familiar with Little Feat’s music, but that concert turned me on and I’ve been a fan ever since. They rocked the house as the warm up act and the crowd wasn’t ready for their set to end.

They certainly weren’t ready for what came next.

During the changeover a roadie came out and set two cases of Budweiser beer on the stage by the central microphone. Cocker’s band came on, tuned up a bit, the lights went down, the band kicked off the intro, at the conclusion of which Cocker was supposed to enter, which was my first cue of the set. The band was still using the intro from Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen days and all of the stage mechanics happened as planned, the crowd was pumped, but there was no Joe Cocker.

After a few moments delay we got the message to reset and we did it all again. This time Joe Cocker appeared on cue with a fifth of whiskey in his hands. He stumbled to the mic, and promptly threw up all over the stage. Yep, I had my follow spot lighting up the entire thing.

That was the end of the concert. Cocker was escorted offstage as the band played the Mad Dogs and Englishmen intro once again, then said good night and left the stage. The crowd was understandably upset with the headliner, but in the days that followed the talk was all about Little Feat’s music.

That was a moment to remember and a memory to laugh at certainly. But as well as I remember that I’ll never forget my introduction to Little Feat and their music. The band’s roster has changed throughout the years (most of the current members are in their 70’s) and the band’s songbook has journeyed its way through different American music genres. Their final album, Strike Up The Band, lands with a return to their original sound, albeit matured and nurtured from steps along the journey. It brings back memories.

There’s a brief, but good write up about the band’s retirement decision and final tour in Rolling Stone here.

Penny Wise and Pound Foolish

A nickel for your thoughts?

If you’ve got some pennies hanging around in a piggy bank or coin collection you might want to hang on to them. Yesterday, November 12th, the U.S. Mint minted the last round of pennies.

The penny has been tossed across sales counters and burned holes in pockets for 238 years, but apparently it cost almost four cents to make one, which certainly seems like a losing proposition.

Not to worry though. If you’re not sentimental about the coin, it will still be considered legal tinder. Although some retailers are looking to round things up to the nearest nickel to avoid having to deal with them.

As for the “pound foolish’ part of this post’s headline, if retailers do follow through on rounding prices up any savings generated by no longer printing pennies will probably be outweighed by the costs of printing more nickels, which costs substantially more than printing a penny.

Setting aside the costs, somehow “a nickel for your thoughts” and “nickels from heaven” just don’t sing the way the originals do.

Death By Lightning: A Mini-Review for a Mini-Success

Music, fighting, sausages

Candace Millard’s excellent non-fiction book Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of the President is often overlooked, though it was well received well when it debuted in 2011. I’m hoping that the new Netflix adaptation titled Death By Lightning will give Millard, her book, and the period of American history it chronicles more well deserved and appropriate notoriety.

Death by lightning.

Yes, this is one of those many cases where the original source material far outshines the film/TV version. That said, Death By Lightning is worth a watch, if nothing else for an entertaining opportunity to dip your toes into the historical waters that are still affecting much of what we’re wading through today in an age when those in control are so eager to pour cold water on the pieces of history they don’t like.

More to the point, Death By Lightning touches on a piece of history from a tumultuous time that seems largely forgotten, that we perhaps might have learned better from, even before we got into this current mess. A poignant, late scene sets this up wonderfully.

Created by Mike Makowsy and directed by Matt Ross, Death By Lightning is a limited Netflix series, that chronicles the unlikely rise of James Garfield to the presidency and his assassination by Charles Guiteau. (If you think anything in this brief review is a spoiler it proves my earlier point.)

There are four episodes and in the end that’s part of what weakens the series as it doesn’t allow much time for much of the depth of Millard’s book. Towards the end it feels like it’s rushing to a conclusion, leaving me wondering how much got left on the cutting room floor or chucked away in the C-suite.

An excellent cast largely rises to the occasion featuring Michael Shannon as Garfield and Matthew MacFadyen as an over the top Guiteau. That said, Guiteau was apparently quite over the top in real life according to many accounts, so much so that there are so many accounts. They are well supported by Betty Gilpin, Shea Whigham, Bradley Whitford, and especially Nick Offerman in a scenery and sausage chewing turn as Chester Arthur, who succeeded Garfield.

One of the wonders of Millard’s book is that it featured an intersection of so much of American life at the time following the Civil War, from politics to science and medicine. The battle between the politics of the spoils system and a desire for a less corrupt civil service system is well chronicled in both the book and the series and adds interesting context to our current tariff tangles that I’m guessing most will find surprising.

If you’re frustrated by recent happenings in our current day Congress and politics both the book and the series will add some historical (and often entertaining) context to the mess we’re in.

Less featured in the series are the conflicts in medicine with many American physicians of the day rejecting what had become largely accepted in Europe as a new approach to germs and sanitary surgical practices. Not really a spoiler, Garfield was shot, but it wasn’t the bullet that killed him. He died from sepsis caused by infection due to unsanitary practices in the aftermath. If you’re detecting hints of the medical madness we’ve been living through since the pandemic, you’re not wrong.

Alexander Graham Bell also makes an appearance with a new invention that could possibly detect the bullet lodged in Garfield’s gut, but the fuller story about his scientific advances and entrepreneurship, which runs on an almost parallel path to Garfield and Guiteau’s in the book, is mostly left as a footnote in the Netflix series.

Again, it’s by no means a perfect piece of streaming entertainment. I highly recommend the book on which it is based and I would mildly rate it better than most of the mundanity that fill our screens instead of the lists we curate. The cast and the exposure to a forgotten moment in American history that I’m certain many have no clue about makes it a good candidate for your watch list.

Besides just getting a chance to see Nick Offerman toss out the line, “Music, fighting, and sausages” is worth the time spent.

Sunday Morning Reading

Politics, the arts, a little snow, and the end of an era

It’s a Sunday and Fall is homing in on Winter as the first snow of the season hits Chicago this morning. Perfect time for a little Sunday Morning Reading featuring some interesting stories about the arts, AI, and home.

As the first flakes of this winter of discontent fall, two interesting reads highlight some of the chaos the art-less U.S administration is inflicting on the American arts scene, specifically The Kennedy Center. Shawn McCreesh takes a look at the damage being done in The Kennedy Center Crackup.

Meanwhile, Charlotte Higgins reports that the Washington National Opera May Move Out Of The Kennedy Center Due to Trump ‘Takeover.’ I’m here to tell you that while what’s happening on the banks of the Potomac may feel very inside the beltway, the repercussions are being felt in the boardrooms of arts organizations across the country.

The above, like most of our news of late, is certainly not something to laugh at. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t find ways to laugh at the incompetent, ignorant and dangerous players wreaking havoc in their wake. Laughter gets under their all too thin skins, no matter how made up or stretched too tight by surgery. Mike Monteiro offers up How To Point At Fascists And Laugh.

NatashaMH, far too young to worry about being old, takes a look at creating art as she nears the mid-century mark in I Don’t Paint For Your Sofa. Youngsters these days.

Art and politics might be an unholy mix in dangerous times like these, but there’s another foul concoction brewing. Adam Willems points to An ex-Intel CEO’s Mission To Build A Christian AI: ‘Hasten The Coming of Christ’s Return.’ If you ask me these folks wishing for these kind of end times have really missed the points. All of them.

Continuing on the AI front there seems to be a bit of weakening in the walls of what most concede is an economic bubble. The cliché is that bubbles pop. Those that don’t, just disappear as they float away. Ben Thompson takes a look at what happens in either case in The Benefits of Bubbles.

Home is where hearts are and often places you can’t return back to. I’ve lived both. Chris Andrei is Searching For The Elusive Feeling Of Home.

With the weather changing and snowflakes falling out my window, there’s a passage of time marker about to be set. The Farmers’ Almanac is about to shut down. Growing up in rural America there were only two publications that everyone I knew received in the mail. It was always a big deal in our house when my dad, who was the postmaster, brought those home. The Sears Catalog and The Farmer’s Almanac. The Sears Catalog is long gone. The 2026 edition of the latter will be its last. Grace Snelling takes a look back and ahead in After More Than 200 Years, The Farmers’ Almanac Is Shutting Down For Good.

Returning to where this week’s column began, the arts, Jack Rodolico’s The Blue Book Burglar examines how New York’s once vaunted Social Register, was not only a destination that social climbers desired to be included in, but was also a hit list for the country’s hardest working art thief. I just don’t understand how the current thieves doing today’s pillaging have it so damn easy.

The Little Prince Meets Artificial Intelligence

A melange of technology and fantasy

Every year, sometimes twice a year, I return to one of my favorite theatre gigs, directing a staged reading for The International Voices Project. IVP is a Chicago company that produces staged readings of plays translated from other countries and cultures. Throughout the years the plays I’ve directed have taken me on journeys with writers from Syria, Lebanon, Ireland, Germany, Norway, Ukraine, El Salvador, and now Romania.

The reason I return each year is one of the reasons I have pursued and enjoyed my life making theatre. I get to touch and explore worlds, cultures, and ideas I would never have had the chance to experience otherwise. It’s always an adventure into something new.

My most recent gig with IVP certainly scratched all of those itches. The play is called Veronica’s Little Prince by Romanian playwright Dr. Catalina Florina Florescu. Yes, Antonie de Saint-Exupéry’s character of The Little Prince plays an important role.

The piece centers on Veronica, a former principal ballerina who has literally had her legs taken out from under her in a mysterious accident, leaving her in an institution, unable to move without the aid of a wheelchair and unable to speak. Unhappy with her fate Veronica is suspected of wanting to kill herself. Even before the mysterious accident she’s lived a life of self-destructive behavior.

The Little Prince arrives to help her examine and uncover the truth within her actions.

There’s another twist. I mentioned that Veronica can’t speak. In a technological twist she communicates via an AI robot by typing on her body. Via an implant those signals transmit to the robot who speaks her words and thoughts.

The play weaves in and out of Veronica’s mind and thoughts, her past and present, reality and fantasy, technology and humanity in very theatrical ways.

Creating an even more mysterious melange of tech and fantasy, the most frightening line to me is when Veronica’s Little Prince answers Veronica’s question about who told her to come by saying:

You see, they have programmed me to pop up whenever I hear certain words.

That may delight AI enthusiasts and those who keep suggesting we’re living in some sort of simulation, but given the rush to push us all deeper into a world run by Artificial Intelligence, it more than tweaks a nerve for those, like me, who may see benefits to AI in some forms, but think the pitfalls are more dangerous. Frankly, I prefer the characters in fantasy to spring from the minds of humans, not lines of code.

Given the sound and visual representations that give the script its many layers it was quite a challenge to present in a staged reading format without the benefit of theatre technology. But we managed to pull it off, letting the words weave their magic.

My thanks and kudos to the cast for doing such great work and especially to young Olive Popio who played our Little Prince.

(Photo by Scott Dray for The International Voices Project)

Review: A House of Dynamite

Shear terror in the face of madness

When you live in Chicago, a city under siege by ICE, I’m not sure, but I guess it a strong bent of masochism to watch a movie where your city gets nuked by an unknown enemy. That’s sorta how I felt when my wife and I cued up the excellent Kathryn Bigelow film, A House of Dynamite over the weekend. We debated back and forth, and decided to give it a go. I’m glad we did.

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It’s certainly not an easy movie to watch, regardless of where you live. Yes, a city gets nuked. But that’s not the strength or the point of this movie. Nor should it be a spoiler at this point. The strength lies in watching otherwise steely individuals wither when their shields of confidence dissolve into vulnerable realizations as a horrible what-if scenario becomes all too real to contemplate, yet alone live through, even though they’ve contemplated them over and over again in training.

We don’t get the disaster movie special effects explosions and carnage. They aren’t necessary for this film to work. What we do get is far more terrifying. We get holes ripped through the souls of the characters we’re allowed to meet as they do their jobs. We get belief in systems and protocols developed by smart people shattered, leaving us all wondering if any of it was worth it in the end. It’s a parable of the moment.

It’s certainly not a Halloween movie, but I can’t think of a scarier film to watch as it strips away every possible security blanket and myth we might have become just too comfortable imagining, and realize just how much we’re in the hands of human beings just like us when horrible things unfold.

That’s more than frighteningly true with an utterly incompetent administration running the U.S at the moment. Noah Oppenheim’s script subtly, deceptively, and brilliantly lays that out as it carries us deeper into unfolding and inevitable danger that may be too horrible to watch, but is certainly more terrifying not to.

Bigelow and Oppenheim’s characters all seem more than capable of the sensitive jobs they hold. The filmmakers dispense with the tropes typical of these kind of disaster flicks that feature the usual array of martinets, incompetent and insufferable fools, and even heroes, sung or unsung. Sure, we see some of the personal traumas and trivia some may be dealing with as they come to work on the morning in question. But we initially watch each of these men and women of strong character knuckle down to perform when the unthinkable moment presents itself.

We then watch as they ultimately come face to face with that horrible moment of realization that there is nothing they can do to stop the inevitable. We watch as the enormous personal toll alters their breathing as they have no choice but to carry on with psychic wounds bigger than any smoldering crater before the missile even hits. Bigelow’s camera work and the cast’s strong acting gives us searing glimpses into those moments of horror and devastation as she catches her characters when each crushing realization occurs.

In three parts and an epilogue, the movie repeats the same horrible 18 minutes or so from missile detection to impact, presenting the scenarios in different government locales and viewpoints. We see a missile interception station in Alaska communicating with the White House Situation Room, the STRATCOM headquarters in Nebraska, FEMA headquarters as they have to pull out the plans for the inevitable, and the president who is attending a basketball camp event and then whisked away, while his aides work to inform him from the White House.

Those parts overlap using much of the same dialogue presented from these different points of view via video or audio conferences as the government tries to formulate its response. The repetition of dialogue serves as a better tension builder and reminder of the time before impact than any of the countdown clocks we might see on the screen. As does the sudden departures of those who need to be taken to secure locations as events unfold.

Bigelow’s cast includes some big name actors in a cast headed by Idris Elba and Rebecca Ferguson, that also includes Anthony Ramos, Gabriel Basso, Jared Harris, Jason Clarke, Greta Lee, and Tracy Letts among a host of others. Some of that host provides some of the most telling reactions on the periphery of the action as they watch their bosses try to handle the situation.

To my mind, nothing procedural happens that we haven’t seen or read about in countless Cold War thrillers of the past. With one exception. I was left with the same sort of existential dread after viewing A House of Dynamite as I was when I first read Tom Clancy’s Sum of All Fears and realized the weapon was going to explode. The only difference is that there was a hero in the Clancy novel to pick up the pieces and help us move beyond the horror.

In A House of Dynamite there are no heroes. Only humans. Trying to do their best. Not failing. But having to face the reality that sometimes your best is simply not enough in the face of madness.

Sunday Morning Reading

Balancing on the edge of a coin

Regardless of the many problems with the Internet, there’s no denying its benefits. One of those is the pleasure of reading stuff I probably would never be aware of without it. In many ways that’s what this Sunday Morning Reading column is about (as well as my life in general on the Internet.) When you read and live life enough, you discover that the trick is always balancing on the edge of the coin that separates the two sides.

There’s comfort perhaps landing on one side or the other, but life is actually in the fragile middle of the muddle somewhere, even if it’s a fine, and increasingly thinner line, often hard to discern.

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First up this Sunday is a piece by Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo called Fear, Greed, Civic Virtue and the Fall of the Elites. Pay attention to that word “virtue.” As Marshall points out it originally meant “manliness.” The word’s evolution is as tricky as the concept itself.

Follow that up with Ian Betteridge’s The Politics of the Missing Middle.

Ian Betteridge’s law of headlines that says any headline that ends in a question mark can be answered with the word “no.” Steven Levy falls into Betteridge’s trap in his piece, Can AI Avoid The Enshittification Trap? Cory Doctorow’s theory of Enshittification has been a popular topic in this column and Betteridge’s law certainly applies here. For those looking for a primer on enshittification Greg Rosalsky has a a quick primer on the topic in A Theory Why The Internet Is Going Down The Toilet.

While technically not falling under the umbrella of enshittification, some of the ways folks are using AI sure sound shitty. Check out Alexandra Jones’s I Realized I’d Been ChatGPT-ed Into Bed: ‘Chatfishing’ Made Finding Love On Dating Apps Even Weirder.

Things are getting weird indeed. Adi Robertson tells us that The Next Legal Frontier Is Your Face and AI.

Several pieces on the arts and creativity stood out to me this week. David Sparks’ The Inherent Value Of The Creative Act reflects on his creative life and his resistance to using AI for the work of creating, but it helps with his administrative tasks. There’s that edge of the coin again.

Authoritarians always target art and artists first. You don’t need an Internet to discover that history, or perhaps we might if the current forces in charge have their way. Andrew Weinstein discusses Trump’s Campaign To Defund The Arts—and Rewrite History.

Speaking of creativity or rather the other side of that coin, Joe Rosenthal takes on Creative Neglect: What About The Apps In Apple? I mentioned some of this in a piece I wrote this past week.

Speaking of that edge and to close out this week, here’s an image of a Mastodon post by friend David Todd McCarty from this morning.

CleanShot 2025-10-26 at 07.29.46@2x.

(Coin Image above from ABARONS on Shutterstock)