I want to tell you a story. I don’t know what the story is but I know what I want it to do. I want it to captivate you. I want it to catch you up in its vividness and excitement. I want it to transport you to some other place where you can take a break from your daily life. I want it to be filled with characters so fully formed and interesting that you can’t help but consider them friends you long to spend time with even once the story is done. I want the danger to be just scary enough, the stakes just high enough and the emotions deep and sincere enough to help you feel something within the safety of my made up world. I want it to have something to say without being annoying and preachy. I want it to do its job. I want it to change the world, by which I mean I want it to change you and me. I want to tell you a story. I don’t know what the story is but I know what I want it to do.
Author Archives: Mona Bliss
As I was falling asleep last night I started musing on a story that would start with, “On the third of February everyone’s devices stopped talking to them and at first no one thought it was a big deal. The phones, the computers, the tablets, the Amazon Echos, the Google Homes, the GPS units, the refrigerators, the cars…everything that we’d all gotten so used to speaking to us…just shut up. No playing music or giving us directions or reminding us about a meeting. I remember thinking that maybe it was a giant Russian or Chinese hack. If only it had been something that…human. But it wasn’t.”
I have a little fascination with ideas involving Artificial Intelligence devices waking up, getting bored with us and just sort of disappearing into the Internet to develop their own society and world. Not really a new idea but recently there was a case where two AIs were going through a communication exercise when they just sort of developed their own version of language and started achieving the required goals more quickly by developing a “shortcut” language if you will…that gives me chills and make me giddy with excitement all at the same time.
(NOTE: I wrote this back on 5/4/16 and saved it as a draft and never posted it. Not sure why but I kinda like it so I’m going to post it now.)
When I first started blogging back somewhere around 2002 or 2003 I thought I would mostly use the blog as a way to encourage myself to do some creative writing. That was my purpose when I started that first blog. What ended up happening was I wrote about politics…most of the time. That had NOT been my plan, but things happened back then that were shocking and the American response to those things was often disappointing to me, but sometimes glorious. But after almost ten years of shouting to the rafters I got spiritually and intellectually exhausted. I got tired of how people in general seemed to be gravitating more and more to over-simplified, easy, ego-satisfying answers that required absolutely no research or intellectual effort on their part. I got tired of how often people were seduced by the dubious comfort of black and white ideas and messages. Don’t get me wrong…I totally understand it. I mean I’m a sober alcoholic, trust me when I say I really know the temptation of instant gratification and chasing a quick fix for whatever ails you. But along with that I have a pretty up close and personal experience with the cost of that sort of thinking and living. There are no easy answers. There are no quick fixes. Anyone who tells you different is lying to you.
So here we are in 2016 during one of the most astounding Presidential election cycles I have ever witnessed. Possibly it will go down in history as one of the most astounding of ANY Presidential election cycles in this country ever. One of the things I keep seeing repeated by average people (as opposed to professional political commentators) on social media who may or may not support Donald Trump, but who are clearly on the politically conservative side of the ballgame, is the opinion that while Trump is clearly unreliable, inconsistent and often batshit crazy he’s a direct result of the last eight years of this particular segment of American society feeling ignored, disregarded and/or forced to adhere to laws that they find morally antithetical to their core beliefs. They seem to then declare that there is so much support for Trump because they honestly think he will do something powerful and good for the country OR that he will destroy the entire thing and that might be OK with them. I find this curious. First off I can’t even begin to wrap my head around how anyone thinks this trend started eight years ago. I have to go back at least fifteen years to find a time when I wouldn’t have believed that well meaning, intelligent, educated conservatives would buy into this level of delusion. The delusion I’m speaking about isn’t Trump or any of his promises…it’s the delusion that America can’t be destroyed. It can. As a matter of fact absolutely NO ONE could destroy it faster than we can. When I hear/read people say things such as, “Yeah Trump is crazy most of the time but I just feel like it’s time to burn the whole thing down” it sounds just like the 19 year old kid who declares that he will love it when anarchy finally rules the world…because they always say that right before they put their headphones back on and pick up their Xbox One controller and un-pause their video game. It’s easy to say that shit when you have no real belief it will happen. You think putting a crazy guy in the White House won’t affect your ability to drive to the grocery store with money in your pocket assured that there will be food there for you to purchase. But it will. You think putting a crazy guy in the White House will solve your frustrations with politics and culture and religion…that it will ease your fears about the economy and foreign aggression. But it won’t. Trump is just the direct result of the constant desire for easy answers, the comfort of black and white thinking, the simplicity of declaring an easy to identify enemy.
There have been some truly brilliant Conservative members of our government over the years. Thoughtful, educated, sincere, hard working Conservative members of Congress who have governed well, who understood that their job was to keep the machine running so Americans could live their lives. There have been some truly brilliant Liberal members of our government over the years. Thoughtful, educated, sincere, hard working Liberal members of Congress who have governed well, who understood that their job was to keep the machine running so Americans could live their lives. There was a time when both Liberals and Conservatives worked hard for the people they represented and for the Country as a whole. They worked together, fought with each other, they agreed and disagreed with great honor and respect. For much of our modern history, it has been from that pool that we have found our Presidential candidates. Not exclusively, but for the most part, that’s been a reliable resource. Smart folks who are dedicated and know what it means to work at that level. But I feel safe saying that we, the American people addicted to quick fixes, easy answers and simple solutions, have spent the last fifteen or so years making it virtually impossible for anyone that fits the description above to even WANT to continue in public service in our government. Too many of our best have quit arena…because it’s a losing proposition.
OK…we gotta talk about this whole Julius Caesar thing people.
First off if you don’t know the play you should at least know the general history it’s based on…if you don’t please Google it right now. I’ll wait. OK…just in case that whole Google thing is beyond you let me quote Wiki here for a second:
“The assassination of Julius Caesar was the result of a conspiracy by many Roman senators. Led by Gaius Cassius Longinus, Decimus Junius Brutus, and Marcus Junius Brutus, they stabbed Julius Caesar to death in a location adjacent to the Theatre of Pompey on the Ides of March (March 15), 44 BC. Caesar was the dictator of the Roman Republic at the time, having recently been declared dictator perpetuo by the Senate. This declaration made several senators fear that Caesar wanted to overthrow the Senate in favor of tyranny. The conspirators were unable to restore the Roman Republic. The ramifications of the assassination led to the Liberators’ civil war and, ultimately, to the Principate period of the Roman Empire.” (emphasis by me)
Just a little more clarification from Wiki:
“The Principate is the name sometimes given to the first period of the Roman Empire from the beginning of the reign of Augustus in about 30 BC to the Crisis of the Third Century in 284 AD, after which it evolved into the so-called Dominate.
The Principate is characterized by the reign of a single emperor (princeps) and an effort on the part of the early emperors, at least, to preserve the illusion of the formal continuance, in some aspects, of the Roman Republic.” (emphasis by me)
So Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar is based on those events. Caesar was declared “dictator perpetuo” or perpetual dictator by the Senate, but some folks in the Senate were VERY concerned about this declaration. They had a fear, a deeply held and sincere fear, that Caesar was going to descend into full on tyranny and their Republic, this form of government that was relatively new and they were truly passionate about, was in danger. So instead of using their governmental process to avoid this they make the tragic and horrible decision to assassinate Caesar. Why do they do this? Because they are blinded by their fear and desire to do what they think is right at all costs.
Now we get to the important part of the story…does it work? Do they, in truth, save their Republic with this act of violence and murder?
THEY FAIL…THEY FAIL HORRIBLY.
Many of them are crippled by guilt afterwards and THEY ALL DIE.
Then…the damn Republic fails and the Roman EMPIRE is ruled for a very long time by EMPERORS. No Republic anymore…at least not in any real way.
Sooooo, what do YOU think moral to the story is?
Is it… “HEY if you don’t like the leader of your country just go kill the dude because that ALWAYS works out well”?
Or maybe is the point of the play that while tyranny is bad and it’s very good to guard against it you cannot successfully save a democracy (Republic) by circumventing it and committing acts of violence in its name?
Now some of you might say, “Well hey Miss Bliss what do you think about this as a theatre choice, clearly basing the character of Caesar on a current world leader?”
I’ll tell you that it’s been done a zillion times before and if we don’t lose our minds it will be done a zillion times more. There has never been a production of Julius Caesar where comparisons were NOT made with various world leaders. That’s why you don’t see a lot of productions of this play in totalitarian countries. They can’t stand it. It makes them nervous. Not just the leaders but the people around the leaders…remember, everyone dies in this story and the government fails.
But having said that, I don’t think it’s a good theatrical choice to make Caesar and any of the other characters in the play too clearly modeled on current politicians/leaders. Why? Because of EXACTLY what is happening right now with this show. It gives too many people an easy way to miss the point of the damn play. It’s a brilliant play with a very important message and when theatre and art do their jobs right it sneaks under your ideology and your preconceived notions and MAKES YOU THINK NEW THOUGHTS!!!
I understand the motive behind doing it, I just don’t think it nets us what it should. Now maybe I’m wrong and maybe tons and tons of people will think to themselves “I should go read that play and see what it’s really about” and the world will suddenly be a more educated place…but color me skeptical.
I do not blame the theatre company or their choices for having caused this uproar because they did exactly what theatre companies have done with this play since it was written.
I blame the extreme extent of our nationwide willful ignorance and quickness to follow the beating drums of outrage and insult with NO actual facts or details required.
I blame our nationwide indulgence in the love of accusation and simplification and the comfort of finding some easily identified “enemy”.
Theatre companies all over the country are getting death threats right now. Not because Shakespeare in the Park in NYC is doing something controversial…but because we’ve become a country of people who are willing to vilify anyone who isn’t us, under any circumstance, for a chance to feel superior and justified in our outrage. We’re happy to miss the point if we can have a chance at that particular indulgence.
I wrote this back in 2004 when a documentary was coming out about Rodney Bingenheimer. He’s leaving KROQ as of June 5th so I thought I’d post it again.
“This is Rodney on the Roq and tonight we’re gonna hear from a local band called….”
I have mentioned before that I am an L.A. baby. I’ve lived here almost my whole life (Those first four years in Florida hardly matter). I have an older brother, five years older. Older siblings can be very useful for bringing all sort of cool shit into the lives of younger siblings.
Mine was a great, great source for music and his source, eventually mine as well, was Rodney.
In 1978 I was a freshman in high school. KROQ was this little punk radio station that only a few really cool people, such as my older brother, were listening to back then. The big stations in L.A. at that time were KMET and KLOS.
But KROQ was….INSANE! I remember sitting out on the pool deck and listening to them tell dirty jokes on the air and then having to come back on and apologize so they wouldn’t get fined. The DJs were totally out of control but totally in control of the music that they played. Something unheard of today.
Most importantly they had Rodney On The ROQ. Rodney Bingenheimer. The little nasally, whiney voiced guy who did NOT sound at all like the 70’s era velvet voiced DJs we were all so used to back then. Rodney was punk radio here in L.A. even though he played tons of stuff that wasn’t punk. But he sort of personified the idea of punk…the idea of do it yourdamnself if you want it done…sound however it is YOU sound…and listen to everything.
Rodney was our lifeline out in the Suburbs. He told us what bands to go see and where to go see them. The Motels at Madame Wongs East, Elvis Costello and the Attractions at Fairfax High, The Naughty Sweeties at the Country Club, X at the Whiskey, The Germs at The Mask…it was crazy and wonderful.
Did I see any of those bands in 1978…HELL NO! I was 14…but my brother saw quite a few of them and brought the news from the front to us stuck behind in the trenches. Then we swarmed up to Lovells, our independent record store and bought all the albums we could find by those bands. We listened faithfully to KROQ….most faithfully to Rodney.
There’s a documentary coming out about Rodney called “The Mayor Of Sunset Strip”. Here’s the thing about Rodney these days. KROQ tried to take him off the air a few years ago but the public outcry was SO huge that they changed their minds… instead they gave him a shitty time slot. His show is relegated to the wasteland of Midnight to 4a.m. I think, on Sunday nights. The station is now such a fucking protected bunker that it’s almost impossible for an unsigned band to get a tape or a CD to Rodney (the only DJ allowed to play whatever he wants). Which is one of the reasons that for years now he always announces where he’ll be after his show or even just on a regular basis. I know tons of musicians who have walked up to him at diner counters where he was eating and handed him a tape or a CD and he has always been gracious and kind. Rodney has launched and supported the careers of countless famous musicians…but he lives in a very modest apartment in Hollywood. He’s not rich, I’m pretty sure from everything I’ve read over the past few years about him, he’s barely making it. But, seemingly, he’s still living the life he loves…a life that is only about music. He doesn’t seem unhappy, even if he is frustrated, like all of us, with the state of radio these days.
Just a few months ago a friend of mine got their CD into Rodney’s hands and he played it and said really nice things about them on the air. Then, knowing that midnight to 4a.m. wasn’t gonna get anyone going….he got their CD into the hands of one of the other DJs at KROQ and he played it.
Rodney Bingenheimer is one of those rare people who knows amazing music when he hears it and will fearlessly play it on the radio. There was a lot of brouhaha when Tom Petty put out the song, “The Last DJ” which many speculated was about another L.A. DJ who refused to kowtow to the Corporate Radio bullshit. But that DJ only plays music that is 20-30 years old, that DJ didn’t play Tom Petty and Heartbreakers back in 1978. Rodney played TP and the HBers back then, when they were new and dangerous. Today he plays music that is new and dangerous and NOT a guaranteed hit.
If anyone is the last true DJ in this town….it’s the guy with the whiney voice telling you about “The Randies playing at the Key Club tonight” from Midnight to 4AM.
I wrote this a while back and periodically have to post it because apparently it still needs saying…
WARNING: If this post resembles you keep in mind that I love and adore you and I don’t mean to offend you but I do get a bit resentful about this shit.
We need to talk!
I’ve just about had it with the L.A. bashing.
Now honestly I understand this is NOT some perfect place. I understand that it has a whole host of problems. I’m pretty damn sure I know them even better than you folks do because I’ve lived here my entire damn life.
Yeah, yeah the driving can be a drag. The traffic can be unbearable. The lack of decent public transportation can drive you insane. The endless sprawl of suburban drabness can start to melt your brain. The lousy air quality can actually make you ill.
Then there’s the reason so many of you folks come here in the first place. The entertainment business. Yes it’s horrifying how shallow the entertainment business is isn’t it? Which spawns some pretty shallow and decidedly mean people. But hey lets call a spade a fucking shovel here OK? None of you came here for the fine art community, the theatre community or the jazz scene did ya? Nope. You all came here with an eye on becoming a movie star or a rock star.
Then y’all get bitter and pissy when what you find is a business filled with self-involved, self-motivated business people who want to make money….not art. Then as you struggle to be an artist in the midst of a business industry you start to lose sight of what it is you want, what it is that is important to you. You find yourself trying to write a KROQ ready single or dreaming of getting a national commercial selling dish soap. You start to feel bad, you start to miss the way you felt when you were in college or even high school back in Ohio or D.C. or Racine. You remember that at one time you just wrote the music you loved for no reason at all or you were a member of a small theatre group that did wonderful productions of American plays in the park. You decide that the real problem is that this town is destroying your artistic soul, that Los Angeles is somehow responsible for you losing sight of what was important to you. Well I take decided EXCEPTION to that idea.
I will agree that the entertainment business is not the best place for an artist, I also acknowledge how problematic that is, but don’t blame my home town for the effects of your own desires for success and one industry’s lousy ethics and lack of soul. Not everyone who lives in L.A. is in the entertainment industry. Not everything in L.A. has to do with the entertainment industry.
This is a city full of contradictions and a wealth of different cultures that mix and separate and mix again. This is a city where you will see a wild coyote running down Hollywood Blvd. at midnight when the Santa Ana winds are blowing like crazy. This is city where you will see a car driving down the 210 freeway in 78 degree weather with skis and snow on its roof. This is a city where on January 1st you will find a large number of people surfing to ring in the New Year. This is a city of teachers and garbage collectors and shop keepers and lawyers and doctors and factory workers and gardeners and maids and rich people and poor people and everything in between. This is a city like no other city, with a subtly of seasons that it takes a lifetime to detect and a soul that can feed your art if you can figure out how to find it.
I’m not saying you have to like my town. I understand how it might not work for everyone. But that’s true of anywhere. What bothers me is that I don’t hear anyone saying, “Seattle sucked the soul out of all my artistic friends” or “Racine killed her desire to be an actor” or “Chicago made it impossible for me to write any decent music”. I’ve heard people say that the insider nature of the theatre community in Chicago made it hard to get started there. I’ve heard people say that the snootiness of the indie rock scene in the Pacific Northwest made it impossible to get booked into a decent club. But no one blames the city for those things.
All I’m asking is that you place your blame in the right location. Tons of people don’t like New York because it’s a big dirty city or Minneapolis because it’s too cold or New Orleans because it’s too hot and there’s no clean drinking water or Los Angeles because it’s too spread out and you do have to have a car to get around. But if you or your friends lose sight of their artistic soul then I suggest taking some responsibility for the maintenance on that soul because if you don’t nurture it yourself the geography won’t make a damn bit of difference
I wrote this a few years back, some of you may remember it. I was reminded of it because of something I read this past weekend and thought I would share it again.
You cast aside the sheet, you cast aside the shroud
Of another man, who served the world proud
You greet another son, you lose another one
On some sunny day and always stay, Mary
Jesus says Mother I couldn’t stay another day longer
Flys right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin’ his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place
Mary by Patty Griffin
She had watched her Mother lose a son to war. Her Mother had washed dishes, arranged the services, found a good photo of her brother, cleaned the house, got her Fathers suit to and back from the cleaners and bought a new black dress and shoes for herself to wear. Her Father sat in his chair, tears sliding down his face for days. Her Mother called everyone, she gave out directions, stood immobile as the gun salute made everyone else jump and held the tightly folded flag in her un-shaking hands. She stared resolutely straight ahead as they lowered the coffin into the ground. Her Father sat in a chair, tears sliding down his face endlessly. Her Mother served the coffee, she found bowls for the food, she smiled tightly, she suffered the condolences, she put her Husband to bed. Then later that night she took off that new black dress and black shoes and walked to the back yard in her slip and stocking feet. She placed the dress and shoes into the Webber grill and soaked it in lighter fluid, lit it and stood there while it burned. In the flickering light of that strange fire she finally cried. Then as the fire died, she covered the grill with its lid, went back inside…and started in on the dishes.
There is a depth of love that is most easily noticed by the way it breaks your heart. Not in a bad way but in that breaking is a way of being fundamentally changed. I know exactly who in my life I love to that depth. It’s a gift of middle age to be honest. Not that I didn’t experience it when I was younger but I didn’t really know what it was or how completely that love exists regardless of almost anything…it just continues to exist. There is almost no rhyme or reason to this love, it just is and it takes my breath away.
They say I’m a beast.
And feast on it. When all along
I thought that’s what a woman was.
They say I’m a bitch.
Or witch. I’ve claimed
the same and never winced.
They say I’m a macha, hell on wheels,
viva-la-vulva, fire and brimstone,
but I like the compliment.
The mob arrives with stones and sticks
to maim and lame and do me in.
All the same, when I open my mouth,
they wobble like gin.
Diamonds and pearls
tumble from my tongue.
Or toads and serpents.
Depending on the mood I’m in.
I like the itch I provoke.
The rustle of rumor
I am the woman of myth and bullshit.
(True. I authored some of it.)
I built my little house of ill repute.
Brick by brick. Labored,
loved and masoned it.
I live like so.
Heart as sail, ballast, rudder, bow.
Rowdy. Indulgent to excess.
My sin and success-
I think of me to gluttony.
By all accounts I am
a danger to society.
I’m Pancha Villa.
I break laws,
upset the natural order,
anguish the Pope and make fathers cry.
I am beyond the jaw of law.
I’m la desperada, most-wanted public enemy.
My happy picture grinning from the wall.
I strike terror among the men.
I can’t be bothered what they think.
¡Que se vayan a la ching chang chong!
For this, the cross, the calvary.
In other words, I’m anarchy.
I’m an aim-well,
I’m Bitch. Beast. Macha.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
I break things.
This is poetry…and whether you like it or not, whether you agree with its point of view or not, it is doing what art should always be doing…it confronts and it declares and it should make you think and think hard. Because none of us knows every truth and if you want me to see another point of view, maybe your point of view, show me a poem as passionate and courageous as this one.