Building the Better Literary Vehicle

“Little Church”

c/o The Mystic Pilgrim at Flickr

Dominik Slusarczyk is an artist who makes everything from music to painting. His poetry has been published in various literary magazines including Fresh WordsBerlin Lit, and Home Planet News. His fiction has been published in moonShine Review

Top Tech Billionaire Supervillains

Iggy Gorgess

An Excerpt from “The Henry Plan”

Human Artistic Performance

Science Fiction– Or Fact?

A SNEAK PREVIEW EXCERPT OF AN UPCOMING STORY BY ZACH SMITH


I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, said Xarlox, as he reached out a beam of energy, that by a certain definition could be described as a hand, toward the probe.

Welcome home.

This relatively little rock, out in the vast outskirts of your solar system, this almost insignificant ball of ice, could be your final resting place.

It has been a long time for you at least. One hundred ten years since you were born, eighty-six years since your discovery, nineteen years since your death. Earth years I should say, less than half a year for this planet.

(Part of a feature story appearing soon at New Pop Lit.)

Cultural Optimists and Pessimists

IF 3-D Thinking means viewing a phenomenon from different vantage points, I’ve been doing that by simultaneously reading two recent books examining the state of American culture.

Derek Thompson

One, Hit Makers by Derek Thompson, published in 2017, examines culture from the standpoint of marketing experts and consumers. According to the data and the algorithms, all is as it should be– more increased technological tools lead to increased cultural efficiency, with what the public wants (whether they know it or not), quickly selected and brought to the front of the pack.

Scott Timberg

The other book, Culture Crash by Scott Timberg, I’ve already referenced, here. Timberg takes a broader view, putting culture into context as part of larger societal trends marginalizing the middle class. The culprit? Culture treated as content designed to adhere to profit-loss statements, instead of as art.

The difference between the two approaches is exemplified by their discussions of the music industry. “That the top 1 percent of bands and solo artists now earn about 80 percent of all music revenue” Derek Thompson sees as a good thing, due to “a lot more honest” ways of identifying and tracking hit records. Meanwhile, in his discussion of “the music industry’s one percent,” Scott Timberg abhors the phenomenon– and attributes it in part to corporate consolidation and the monopolization of radio by Clear Channel beginning in 1996.

To Thompson, Max Martin– one of the Swedish “superproducers” behind scores of hit records– is a musical genius. “The construction of a pop song is almost mathematical,” he quotes a Max Martin protege as saying. (A similar mindset to those in 2023 promoting the creativity of AI?)

Timberg discusses a different-but-similar Swedish producer, Lukasz Gottwald aka Dr. Luke, and uses a quote from John Seabrook to describe him: “He can make a song that’s also a business plan.”

They’re discussing the same phenomenon, the same technique, but with different opinions about it. Scott Timberg:

But this isn’t democracy– it’s the kind of monopoly capitalism Theodore Roosevelt hated, dressed-up with bling and low-cut jeans. As for hope: synthed-out with gang choruses, or purplish and overwrought over lost love, Dr. Luke’s songs sound like the music piped into the waiting room in hell.

In his book, Scott Timberg is almost relentlessly pessimistic about the state of the culture industry today, blaming the imposed-from-on-high, winner-take-all reality of it. Derek Thompson– the optimist of this examination– celebrates winner-take-all, as maybe he should, as he became a staff writer at prestigious The Atlantic magazine– owned by billionaire Laurene Powell Jobs– at age 23. (The same magazine, incidentally, which sided with billionaires’ yachts over orcas during the recent dispute in sea lanes between the two groups.)

XXX

What of myself? Where do I stand? Though I generally side with Timberg, critic of the status quo, over its defender, Thompson, I consider myself an optimist. It’s because our culture today is so monopolistic, one-note, and bland; run by data-oriented techies– so extreme in its security and complacency– that it’s set itself up for a mighty fall; data, algorithms and all. In this complex universe strength is weakness, weakness strength. Something unexpected and new will come along to topple the smugsters– and all their AI technology, focused on the now, on what is, will leave them unprepared for it.

KW

(But what do you think?)

3-D Thinking: An Intro

HERE are two credible books about the music business. Both books examine that business as it existed in the 1980s. Most of the focus, for both, is on rock music in Southern California. Yet there are only two slight points of contact between them. Were it not for those two points, one would think the authors lived in alternate universes.

The reason for this is that, even though the books cover the same subject, they come at that subject from different directions, and target different levels of the industry at that place and time. Fredric Dannen’s perspective is strictly top-down, examining the operations of monopolistic record company giants like CBS Records and Warner Brothers. Jim Ruland’s viewpoint is from the bottom, depicting the struggles of punk rock bands and the actions of grassroots startup enterprisers attempting to build businesses via promoting new bands and fresh music.

To truly understand rock music at that time and place, the observer needs both perspectives. Like seeing a mountain from more than one side– or viewing the dark side of the moon as well as what’s facing us. The three-dimensional viewpoint.

One view is not more valid than the other. That Fredric Dannen covers the more financially successful end of the music business doesn’t mean that end is more worth study, or historically important, or that music and its well-hyped acts more meaningful. If anything, the indy music scene Jim Ruland depicts in his book was more innovative and influential– at least as far as rock music is concerned– than the status quo acts promoted by the money-grabbing “Hit Men.” The indy music scene embodied by SST Records led to the rise of grunge in the 1990s– of bands like Nirvana, Soundgarden, and so many others.

Which causes us to question literary history, canons and such. Are academics giving us the full picture of literature over the course of decades– or not in fact only an acceptable sliver of everything happening?

The idea of narrow viewpoints should cause us to question all histories. Not throwing out standard (or revisionist) narratives, but supplementing them, to give the fullest possible picture of ideas and events.

-KW

The Literary Establishment’s Maginot Line

It’s funny to see reactions to the emergence of ChatGPT and other AI happenings. An increasing number of writers– especially on the low end– have embraced it as a way to get more “product” out there. Doesn’t matter to them if they can generate a novel in a day, or if it’s not at all any good. If it qualifies in their mind as a novel, that’s enough. Some–like the editors at New Pop Lit— are opposing the gathering onslaught. Meanwhile, a large number of writers, particularly those in or connected to the literary establishment, are ignoring it.

One can liken them to the French army in 1940. At war with Nazi Germany, yet believing they were safe behind a supposedly impregnable series of forts known as the Maginot Line. The forts were a psychological barrier more than anything– false security which enabled the French not to have to think about that which awaited just outside the gates, so to speak– and which swiftly with the roar of dive bombers and tanks came racing through the Ardennes Forest to spread terror and mayhem.

Similarly, literary people don’t want to think about AI chatbots. They believe they’re safe, and can wish the devices and the change they bring away. An illusory dream– writers are nothing if not dreamers.

Most out-of-touch of all are literary critics– those you’d assume would be most on top of things. Instead, they’ve tricked themselves into believing they represent a Golden Age of American literary criticism (I’m not making this up). A Golden Age nobody’s heard of, consisting of writers nobody knows. The height of insularity and arrogance. It’d be like the Essenes– authors of the Dead Sea Scrolls– circa 30 AD designating their inscrutable writings and themselves as a Golden Age.

The reality? I think of auto exec Bob Lutz’s remark about the General Motors car business before it went bankrupt: “brilliantly executed mediocrity.”

It’ll take way more than that to stem the coming tide of AI.

(The Save the Writer petition.)

-K.W.