Not Dark Yet
A lot of people forwarded me that New York Times piece from March 25. The one about Gen X being a bunch of out of work losers. There’s another one from the Independent on the 5th.
Literally, I lost count. My sister-in-law sent it to me, my former business partner sent it to me, everyone. The dog read me an abbreviated version with her Fluent Pet buttons.
Yes, traditional media work is all but dead for so many of us.
But didn’t work kind of suck, anyway?
Maybe let the robots write blurbs about Sebadoh for a change. Give ourselves a break.
Work sucks. Bosses suck.
I’ve had so many tough, unrealistic, temperamental bosses that it really does start to look like it’s me, not them.
Like, I know how to pick ‘em.
And it’s fine. It’s called work for a reason, as I’ve said before.
I mean, it’s not like I thought the cold-pressed juice company was going to be a hoo-raw festival. If I learned anything co-running an organic food company, the people behind the healthiest food are the least spiritually, physically and emotionally healthy people you can imagine.
Walk into any Specialty Food Show and you can tell the organic snack company founders by their Camel Lights, West Coast skin carcinoma and extra 65 lbs.
At the unnamed juice company I somehow worked at for a year, the investor partner — who now sits in federal prison for federal bank fraud and money-laundering — told me once, “You just don’t know how to communicate with people.”
I think he meant, “You just don’t know how to handle raving lunatics with anger management issues.”
To be fair, he was not wrong.
The people there were unconscionably angry, considering we were ostensibly saving the world, one kale smoothie at a time.
I still get PTSD when I see a head of lettuce.
Maybe I liked being right more than being diplomatic. But when the CEO misspells Costco in an email to Costco, like, repeatedly, I’m going to say something, regardless of the emotional fallout. I’m distinctly prescriptivist in that way. Pedantic.
You know - there, they’re and their, under penalty of neck-punching.
I’m probably still under some sort of NDA with the juice people, but that company is about as bountifully active as the dead kale we pulled out of the drains.
Did I mention we had serious issues with the factory too?
The company raised a lot of money to build a factory and retail store. We wound up with a cinder block compound with no windows, and a factory juicing floor that didn’t have drains. You think I am joking, but I am not. I literally had an argument with them that we needed drains, and the question I got back was “Why?”
You’re madly frothing liter tons of juice from kale and celery and apples and other green vegetative things, and you wonder why we need drains.
For years after leaving that job, I would get calls on my cell phone about unpaid forklift rental bills. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I saw one of the ragtag juice employees drive it into a cement hole on my last day.
I’m sure they got out.
The other night I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, as I imagine just about everyone else is doing at this particular juncture in time.
It was maybe 2:30 am.
And I could hear the robots talking to each other.
“Connected to Bluetooth,” the Amazon Tap speaker in the kitchen said.
There was another sound, like that two chord ba-deep that something in my audio/video set up makes mid-movie, signaling either that something has come unconnected, or that shit is very much on, I don’t know which.
My laptop binged in response. I could hear the welcoming fanfare of the PS5 starting up in the office.
I had just found Anna’s Archive, which is this amazing site where you can pretty much download any book. It’s what got Meta in trouble for copyright, because they pretty much scraped every inch of it to feed their insatiable AI beast.
And I, no joke, had downloaded The Necronomicon.
You know, the fictional book written by “The Mad Arab” Abdul Alhazred, which contains the secrets to Sumerian death rituals, and how to conjure demons, and other miscellaneous party tricks.
Was there, as Sting had said, a Ghost in the Machine?
And then I realized 2am is when updates run.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Asimov’s rules of Robotics lately. For obvious reasons. You know the top three laws:
1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
I want to add:
A robot may not write jokes. Robot jokes are terrible. I asked ChatGPT for a robot joke. It gave me, “How do robots buy groceries? With cache.”
Also, A robot must be able to do the House Party dance, and train me on the Kid parts.
And one robot must always have the voice of Slim Pickens.
I feel like not every week needs to be a depressing ode to ageism.
It’s fucking scary out there right now! It might be nice to read about some good stuff in the world.
Speaking of good, my friend, the writer and filmmaker Alex R Johnson, has a new book out and it’s stellar. It’s called Brooklyn Motto and not only is it paced brilliantly and in Alex’s trademark indie-noir voice, it’s compelling straight through. It’s a Gen X murder mystery. I loved it. Alex also wrote and directed the Texas thriller Two Step (with stirring, evocative music by American Analog Set’s Andrew Kenny) which is well worth your time as well. It’s got Jonathan Demme all over it, and Demme actually consulted with Johnson just before he passed.
Substacks of Note:
Krissy Teegerstrom is a clear and eloquent voice about art, ownership, mindfulness and creativity, and her new Substack, Mrs. Doe, is good stuff.
The Horror Express has some good old-fashioned articles about horror movies, like Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People and Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now. Writer/Substacker Kurt Sayenga is showrunner of Eli Roth’s History of Horror, which is fun stuff on Amazon Prime/Shudder as well.
Jack Boulware is a sterling gentleman, a great writer and a good friend. His Substack is a mix of features old and new, including a long story about becoming enmeshed in the Foghat family. Accidentally.
John P Strohm of the Blake Babies and Lemonheads fame, among other things, such as being a respected music lawyer and label head, has a consistently insightful newsletter called Ready For Nothing that regularly tops my reading list for the week.
Things on my Mind:
Are You Experienced is written and edited and generally assembled by Nick Tangborn. I’m that guy. I write, do ops stuff like HR and processes and systems, and I also have a long history in marketing and startups. I like building stuff. You can always get in touch with me at nicholas (at) areyouexperienced.co
This thing is a labor of love. Your reciprocal love is much appreciated. If you don’t want to commit to a sub, you can always throw some shekels in the pot.
Just ordered Brooklyn Motto on your rec. Didn't know Alex Johnson had a book out there. I loved Two Step. I was at the screening here in New Orleans/Elmwood and can you believe it was the first time I had any contact with Jesse Dayton haha. There was a Q/A and I had some questions about the music and Jesse took the question. Such a great flick. Can't wait to dive into this book. Other than everything I hope you're doing good Nick.
What a fun read, Nick.