Comedian/writer David Feldman joins forces with badtouchgoodtouch.com and explains the intricate fuckery that is the US economy. Audio is taken from David’s weekly podcast, visuals harvested from youtube, archive.org and various other places. Edited together by Jimmy Lee Wirt and Britta Bordeaux.
Category » SERIOUS STUFF
Here’s some footage I shot today of Occupy LA in downtown Los Angeles. If you’re not wise to what the fuck is going on in the world right now, specifically in Wall Street….well, go here and get educated: occupytogether.org
The guy featured in my footage has a youtube.com channel that I happened to run across, here’s a link to it: youtube.com/user/RawSangha
Back in 1985, I saw this movie while visiting my friend Mark at Washington University. We had heard about it and were happy that the local PBS station in St. Louis was playing it on the air in its entirety. And even despite the fact that we were watching it on a 13″ black and white television with crappy reception, it really struck a chord with me. Here’s the basic description from Wikipedia:
Koyaanisqatsi (English pronunciation: /ˈkɔɪ.ɑːnɪsˈkɑːtsiː/ KOY-ah-nis-KAHT-see), also known as Koyaanisqatsi: Life out of Balance, is a 1982 film directed by Godfrey Reggio with music composed by Philip Glass and cinematography by Ron Fricke.
The film consists primarily of slow motion and time-lapse stock footage of cities and many natural landscapes across the United States. The visual tone poem contains neither dialogue nor a vocalized narration: its tone is set by the juxtaposition of images and music. Reggio explains the lack of dialogue by stating “it’s not for lack of love of the language that these films have no words. It’s because, from my point of view, our language is in a state of vast humiliation. It no longer describes the world in which we live. In the Hopi language, the word Koyaanisqatsi means “crazy life, life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living”. The film is the first in the Qatsi trilogy of films: it is followed by Powaqqatsi (1988) and Naqoyqatsi (2002). The trilogy depicts different aspects of the relationship between humans, nature, and technology. Koyaanisqatsi is the best known of the trilogy and is considered a cult film. However, because of copyright issues, the film was out of print for most of the 1990s.
So, while I was looking at the latest news headlines today I started hearing the haunting Phillip Glass score from this film, and suddenly all the imagery from it started flooding my mind. I’m glad that I was able to find a streaming free copy to share with everyone, and I hope you take the time to watch it. It’s really (depressing) great!
We take communion, The Rabbit and I.
We share a fluffy yellow Peep and the Rabbit spreads its arms like a bat taking flight. The Rabbit shows me its stigmata, where the non-believers drove carrots into its paws.
I pause this reality and dive down the hole after it into the next.
Its matted bloody fur wiggles and hums. Buzzes. Hundreds of bees pour from its wounded appendages. In droves they circle my head. Into my ears they crawl. They tickle. They wriggle in there, in and out of my honeycombed brain. I feel a warm mess dripping down my neck. I put my fingers into it, touch them to my lips and lick the sweet and sticky from them.
Did you see what God just did to us man!
The Rabbit claps its paws together and my skull flips back like an over-seized PEZ dispenser.
7 pink and green coffin-shaped candy pellets bounce off of my chest and skitter across the floor and skid to a stop in perfect alignment with the other. They open, a trumpet of creaking wood announcing their arrival. Thousands upon thousands of multi-colored baby spiders pour out of them, save for one. They cover the floor, up the bed and swarm over me. I feel compelled to lay flat on my back and let them crisscross my skin 8 legs at a time. I can feel each and every single depression. From the soles of my feet to the tip of my shoulders, they lock legs and slowly tip-toe, like a Sunday school procession. They blanket my body like a quilt, and I am comforted.
I hear the last candy coffin open and 3 dark shapes fly up and around the room, dancing like shadows in and out of the corners. I can’t quite make out their form, but their substance twinkles and sparkles and makes my eyes squint, like too much sunlight.
But I know these creatures are born of the moon.
They flutter and flap, black velvet wings that twist and turn to no pattern. Click. Click, click. They fly closer and closer, crashing into each other and spinning together madly.
A black licorice whip clatters to the floor like an empty picture frame.
The quilt of arachnids has melted like ice cream off of my skin and puddles around my body like an abandoned birthday party.
The Rabbit urges me to climb onto its back, and promises that we are safe as houses. I straddle it just above its snow white haunches and with a light tap of the licorice whip we zoom through a musty maze of tunnels, avoiding sharp-mouthed stones and the prying fingers of angry roots. This is Otik’s womb, I think, but The Rabbit tells me that we are late, that we have video tapes to return, that we have no time to waste with tree parties. We make 5 lefts in quick succession and then 4 slower rights and jump out into nightfall and straight into the ocean. I ask the Rabbit in crystal clear bubbles if it can swim and it replies that it’s not important. What is important, its bubbles breaking against my face, is if you can.
I grab the nape of the Rabbit’s neck in my teeth and pull it up, zigging and zagging towards that silver sliver, my lungs screaming for air, my heart screaming for salvation. I see the Rabbit’s eyes changing from green to brown to black. I think of Sebastian, and his arrows. My skin looks like tinfoil in this light, I notice, and speaking I watch as the last bubble gurgles out of my mouth and floats just above me. I look one last time into the eyes of the Rabbit and grab hold of that bubble just before it is out of reach. And straining one last time, my mouth full of cotton candy, I break the surface of the water.
I’m in the middle of my living room sitting cross-legged, naked, sweating and praying. Presenting the floppy-eared Presence with a present. A trick in the palm of one hand and a treat in the other.
The Rabbit partakes of both.
The Rabbit shows me how we are all but Easter eggs of varying brilliance and design nested in fluorescent grass inside wicker baskets floating atop an ocean of melted nougat.
That we are all just cobweb hair and ghost tongues; bruised and battered orange pumpkin shells with our guts spilled all over the floor, ready and waiting for the candle.
Jonathon “The Impaler” Sharkey threw himself into the race for Minnesota Governor on January 13, 2006. His thirteen point platform included helping farmers, improving the public school system, and advocating for better benefits for United States veterans. However, it was his “coming out” to the media as a Hecate Witch, Satanic Dark Priest and Sanguinary Vampire that grabbed Jonathon national and international attention. His candidacy marked the beginning of the largest amount of media coverage ever given to an unknown third party candidate running for Governor in American history.
“Minnesota has hosted an interesting run of political candidates, from retired wrestler Jesse Ventura (Minnesota governor from 1999 to 2003) to former Saturday Night Live star Al Franken (the contested winner of a U.S. Senate seat in 2008). But perhaps the most intriguing candidate was Jonathan Sharkey, a self-proclaimed Satanic Vampire and Hecate Witch, who ran for the office of Minnesota governor in 2006. W. Tray White’s documentary Impaler follows Sharkey as he contends with the media frenzy inspired by his 13-point political platform which includes impaling criminals on the lawn of the governor’s mansion.”