Is it getting a bit cold in here?

The ultimate reality is we don't really have free speech.  Sure, we can chitter away but if we think we are blabbing without consequence, we are young, or naive, or both.  I am sure there are government bots scouring the interwebs for keywords that flag not only deranged but merely opinionated individuals as possible threats.  And I would guess that mentioning free speech in this blog might put me on somebody's list.  It doesn't bother me because I really have very little to hide.

But, apparently, Twitter has a lot to hide.  Or to filter.  The company has developed a system of filters that will censor Twitter posts to conform with any particular country's laws, one assumes to vouchsafe the company from legal action in said country just in case an irritating opinion on a touchy subject like, oh, child labour, happens to slip through:  http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/technology/tech-news/twitter-to-censor-tweets-in-individual-countries/article2316879/ .

This news piece brings up a few issues for me.  Of course, I find it deeply distasteful that speech would be censored.  'nough said.  But even on that issue, even if one feels that things should be censored, do ya really want Twitter in charge of that?  Huh?

If you've been living under a rock:  Twitter is an instant messaging service with over 300 million users worldwide as of 2011, handling over 300 million tweets per day.  It is the second most visited site on the planet right now and has revenues in the millions per year with a projection of over a billion users by 2013.  You can learn more over there at the Wikipedia.

Twitter has always filtered messages to comply with local laws but this is their first comprehensive solution to the problem of censorship worldwide.  They say they are doing it for us -- so that more tweets get out to more places and they are working closely with chillingeffects.org to make sure that we are updated on what country is demanding what censorship.  And they let you know that a Tweet has been censored.  It's nice of them, eh?

But I really have to wonder at how quickly Twitter complies.  Quickly.  Immediately.  Preemptively.  This should give us pause.  We must keep firmly in mind that companies are there to make money.  That is their imprimatur, as it were.  Nothing trumps that central goal including free speech and, with some companies, child labour and all manner of bad.  And even though the geeks fought back and stopped SOPA, it won't be long until the central issue on the interwebs is making money out of all these users.  It won't be the geeks but the lawyers running the internet. 

People are always surprised.  Over there at the Facebook, Mr. Mark Zuckerberg managed to compile the world's largest marketing database ever.  And we all did it willingly.  We all clicked 'like' happily.  I am sure Mr. Zuckerberg is giggling himself silly while he rolls around in his net worth of 17 million.  And just like Twitter, Facebook censors sites in order to comply with mores and laws.  And if Facebook is any indication of how the censorship will work with Twitter, Facebook commonly censors sites that include pictures of mothers breastfeeding (because showing a partial breast with a baby sucking is obscene), but commonly leave up advertisements that include topless models.

I would expect that even those sites that scream about sharing free information and went dark in protest against SOPA probably, already, censor their content in some way to avoid legal hassles.  Be sure that the interwebs are no longer the wild, wild, west.  Big Brother and all his little corporate toadies are not only watching, they are logging, recording your details, cooperating with investigations, passing judgement, and censoring.  And they are doing it faster than you can type 140 characters.

The central question is this:  Do their core values actually agree with yours?  Because, if they don't, you have little, if any, recourse.  It won't be initiatives like SOPA that change the internet.  Self-censorship already has.

It's raining.

Just recently we had the SOPA and PIPA threats to free speech and open information, and an attempt to control artistic profit and output.  The ACTA agreement vote in Europe looms in the near future as solid dodge of democratic process and another a threat to free speech.  It feels like every day it's something else attacking what I perceive as our way of life.  If it's not one thing, it's another.  Man, it's raining out there.

Back in the seventies, social commentators were discussing the fall of the American Empire.  University pubs and cafeterias were rife with this kind of talk and we, in Canada, were so smug in our intellectual superiority. (Well, what else did we have to feel smug about regards the juggernaut to the south?  Hockey.  Maybe hockey.)  But we, as the client state, the little brother next door, we somehow felt immune to the effects of the process of decline of the American Empire.  I definitely remember our pronunciations about what would happen in the States and the clucking, the shaking of the heads, but no acknowledgement that anything would happen here.

As it turns out, we were in denial then just as most folks in North America are in denial now that the whole of western civilization has been on the decline for decades. You would be surprised what we predicted at those tables over coffee or cheap draft beer.  We predicted the emergence of religion as a dominant force in politics.  We predicted the emergence of form over function.  We predicted a slow, steady decline in civil rights and women's rights and the slow, steady decline of our own values, institutions, etc.  We predicted unfair wars and dominance.  All this and more, all from studies of the fall of the Roman Empire.  We knew what was going to happen just not what particular forms it would take.  So we were aware.  It was already raining but we were only ankle deep.  A nuisance but not life threatening.

And then, culture seemed to ramp up to bursting.  It was raining movies, television shows, internet culture, all falling steadily practically free from the sky.  It was fun.  It made one laugh.  It distracted one.  And there was so much falling that there wasn't enough of a filter for the average person to see the danger that some of what was falling was pure acid and that shared core values, civil rights, reproductive rights....  These would start to erode as a result.  And, in the nature of gentle rain, so slowly that we wouldn't notice.  So, now, here we stand on tippy-toes trying to keep our heads above water.  Forty years not forty days.  A quiet deluge.  We are swamped. 

The cultural process is unstoppable at this point, I expect, and it's hard for me as an individual to understand what I can do about it; the very process has made me feel so small and ineffectual.  Well, maybe I am still in denial, but I believe I won't drown. I am going to try to continue to be a voice for free thought  and civil rights - as small as this voice might be.  It's going to be hard given all this rain.  Glad I've always been an excellent swimmer.

But that was me fourteen years ago...

My past success as a stage manager is well known in a small circle of folks in community theatre in Scarborough, a suburb of Toronto.  And it is from this crowd that I still, from time to time, get offers of community level work. Two folks have asked me if I would consider stage managing for them this month. Crazy. I haven't stage managed a show in fourteen years. So odd.  I know I project an air of competency and that's probably why folks from time to time ask me to stage manage. But, really, that was me fourteen years ago.

I don't mind the question though. Other than the fact that it's flattering, it always makes me look backward for a moment. The very nature of what I do requires me to focus on the now and the future. As a director -- well, as a person -- I seem to need to keep going. Keep adding skills, moving on to the next project.  But when someone reminds me that I was once this feisty little stage manager, I pause for a bit and look back.

I've come a long way, baby -- and really glad for it. Every show I direct takes me farther down this path, makes me think a little bit differently, challenges me to learn more, try harder. I like it. Love it, in fact, and have an awful lot of fun on the way. One of the reasons why I stopped stage managing?  I wasn't having any fun.  That little fact is key for me.  We should spend our time doing those things which make us happy. It took me a long time to learn that.

About thirty years, I guess.  Somewhere in my twenty-ninth year, I decided to discard 'aught tos' and start doing what I wanted.  Decided to put myself first.  This new attitude sent me along the road that led to directing, writing, mothering.  That decision twenty years ago has made me what I am today.  It's fun to stop, look back, and see your own trajectory, how far you've come.  It can give you an idea of where you might go.

So, would I ever go back to stage managing?  I don't think so.  But thanks for asking. 

What is an artist?

I have often assuaged my raw feelings toward my low income by telling myself that anyone who drives a Prius probably isn't an artist.  I know it's complete carp but it makes me feel better. Then, of course, swimming through the confusing eddies of my own mind ever since, has been the question of whether I am really an artist or not.  Perhaps, as a theatre director, I am just a clever salesman. I come from a family of salespeople after all.

I am willing to accept that, as a writer, I could be an artist because I earn exactly nothing as a writer; so, therefore, must do it for the love of it.  So either I am an artist or an idiot.  Uh, maybe a little bit of both.  But this fact that I earn nothing from being a writer is a state of being I am trying to change with regular blogging and a insidious thing called Google Adsense.  I thoroughly expect them to send me a cheque for twenty-five cents US next month.  Can't wait.

But just as the Prius being a false indicator, poverty as a true indicator of artistry is just as carpy.  So, so.  Does just being involved in the arts make one an artist?  No.  So, what is it?  I thought I would check dictionary.com for a definition.  It's always good to go back to basics:

art·ist

 [ahr-tist] Show IPA

noun

1.a person who produces works in any of the arts  that are primarily subject to aesthetic criteria.

2.

a person who practices one of the fine arts,  especially a painter or sculptor.

3.

a person whose trade or profession requires a knowledge of design, drawing, painting, etc.: a commercial artist.

4.

a person who works in one of the performing arts,  as an actor, musician, or singer; a public performer: a mime artist; an artist of the dance.

5.

a person whose work exhibits exceptional skill.

 

 

 

Not a lot of help here.  Almost all of these definitions turn on themselves - an artist is and artist kind of defintion.   Except for number five.  I like number five.  Five makes sense to me.  I have often thought that the term artist should not be restricted to the arts.  That there is something about how some people approach whatever they do be it painting, poetry, or plumbing that is deeply connected and beautiful.  Perhaps that is art.  Perhaps.

 

But, for sure, I like number five.  I would like my work to exhibit exceptional skill.