Val Verde: A Fake Reality in a Tale of Fake Reality

Cover, image posted by Amazon.

In a way, Hank Green’s second book, “A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor,” is a bit like the making of the Matrix, years before the Matrix.

If you read “An Absolutely Remarkable Thing” then you’ve met our cast: April May, who apparently may have died in a fire, although there is a strong hint at the end of the first book that she did not. Her Scooby gang, Andy, Miranda, Maya—and the alien who sometimes appears as a robot, Carl.

I really enjoyed Hank’s first book, which I thought was an interesting rumination on life in the internet age, in particular, how internet fame changes people. I’m a fan of the second book, too, although to be honest, I probably enjoyed the first one a bit more.

Cover of Hank Green's first book.

For one thing, the second book is told from multiple points of view, which is OK, but sometimes got in the way, for me. I found myself in particular resenting Carl a bit, who, while benevolent in intentions, was still busy manipulating people whose future he could predict.

But I did like the rumination on what it would mean if artificial reality became so compelling people were willing to give up reality for it. And that internet social media companies, even if run by good people, will find themselves doing whatever makes them money (a truth of most companies in general, I suppose, which is why we do need regulations on our economy).

So the “Dream” being coopted by an evil company called Altus, headed by our old nemesis, Peter Petrawicki. By the way, there is a software company called Altus, and I wonder what they think of this name? Peter doesn’t even run the company, which is really a tool of Carl 2.0, Carl’s more powerful sibling who secretly was sent to Earth in case Carl 1.0 failed. I did wonder a bit about the advanced alien intelligence that supposedly sent these two: Couldn’t there backup AI overlord have a few more lines of ethical coding along the lines of Carl 1.0?

Anyway, everything about Altus is a lie. It’s not even in Puerto Rico, but in Val Verde—a name I did not recognize and looked up, only to find it’s a fictional country. I liked that bit of trickery—the fake internet company that seems to be setting up the Matrix fake reality to keep humans safe in a weird alien zoo is located in a fake location.

So there was a lot to like about this second book. But beyond the switching narrators, I struggled with a few aspects. The resolution, involving a hostile leveraged buyout and the raising of billions of dollars, was clever on some level, but didn’t completely click for me. I also wish that Peter, the evil leader, was a bit more troubled by, and maybe manipulated by, the shenanigans that Carl 2.0 put him up to.

Still, I do recommend the book. Read the first before the second—I don’t know if the second would make much sense without having read the first. The second is a bit slow to start, but once April uses her robo arm to punch through a back door, the action never stops.

And maybe that’s what mostly bothers me. The pace of the book was a bit slow at first, and then became almost an endless chase scene, and I wanted to the characters to slow down and react a bit more. True, some of them spent some time holed up in a luxury apartment (plot point that bothered me—I would think Carl 2.0 could have figured that out, given that they were in contact with the old crowd), but the action was wham! wham! wham! and I wanted a little less grungy people on computers and a bit more, well, life.

Still, I think that was part of the point. Social media can take us away from life, and what does that do to us? Despite seeing some flaws in Hank Green’s second book, I rate it fairly high. It is imaginative and creative. The “Book of Good Times” was an interesting twist. I kind of liked Carl as a monkey, although a talking cat would have worked for me, too. Maybe he needed thumbs. Carl the raccoon? The idea that Andy would be seduced by the neo-Matrix and have trouble giving it up felt right, too.

In summary, get the book, read it, especially if you, like me, enjoyed the first one.

I also enjoyed Hank’s reading of his first chapter some month ago, and note that he edited the final line. I like the edited version better, and it’s interesting to see how a “done” book can still evolve as it nears completion. There’s some lesson there about editing in the real world.

A Time Capsule of 1970s Journalism

My first news story, and it was on the front page.

A briefcase found by a family member makes me think of how much has changed and how much has not changed in our media universe in four decades.

The 1979-1980 school year was an interesting one for me. I had graduated from Muscatine High School in 1976, and, at age 17, was an aimless youth with no resources to go to college.

I worked for a year, attended Iowa State University for a year as an engineering major, and then found myself needing a break from the cost and stress of a big state university. I think, although I was not willing to admit it to myself at the time, that the creative side of my personality was deeply unhappy with my life choices, and my decision to return home, get a job at a local factory and attend community college part-time was partly due to an internal struggle that I didn’t fully understand.

To make a long story short, instead of following in my father’s footsteps and attending a big university and becoming a chemical engineer, I ended up taking a journalism writing class during my second quarter at MCC, and then changed my life course.

Financial drama in the drama department! Well, it seems a bit newsier than "McDonalds to open."

I decided to become a journalism major, and ended up transferring to a small literal arts college, partly because my original journalism teacher at MCC (shoutout to you, Dennis Stouse) had gotten a job there and was willing to hire me as one of the editors of the weekly student newspaper there.

Recently, one of my younger sisters, Cate, found an old Samsonite brief case, loaded with Calumets, the student newspaper of MCC, from the 1979 and 1980 school years. After looking at its contents, she passed it on to me.

MCC has a new prez.

What a trippy experience it was seeing those yellowed old tabloids. There was my first story, written while I was in my intro to newswriting class—a front page news headline screaming about two new chain restaurants opening near campus.

Big news, in retrospect, was not always that big in Muscatine in December of 1978.

In the spring, both my sister and I applied to be on the editorial staff, and we became the editor and campus editor of the Calumet. In the meantime, one of our older sisters had finished her stint in the U.S. Army, and joined us as a student at MCC. The three of us worked hard that year on the paper staff—none harder than Cate, by the way, although the staff we worked with larger than the ones I work with at Mount Mercy University—the late 1970s were a time of greater popularity for studying journalism.

But we had some battles. There were ongoing conflicts with the student senate over something that I’m sure was important at the time, but that I don’t remember all that well. We received some angry letters to the editor from officers of student government.

They didn’t call us fake news, but my entry into journalism came at a time when my personal politics were shifting as the world was also changing. When I was young, Robert Ray was the Republican governor of Iowa, and there was a brand of middle-of-the-road, moderate GOP that I liked.

My column in 1979 remembering my active participation in the Republican Party in 1976. It was a different world. Do you appreciate the two-part joke that the headline is?

As a teen, I was a fan of President Gerald Ford, and in 1976, when I was 17, I supported Ford at the Iowa caucuses and as a delegate to the state Republican convention (I could join and be active in the party because I was going to turn 18 and be able to vote that year). It was a little weird reading my 1979 description of that 1976 experience, because the rise of Ronald Reagan and his moral majority brand of more conservative Republican identity was gradually easing me out of the GOP.

I don’t recall if I caucused in 1980, but I’m sure I did not vote for Reagan that fall.

Anyway, the conflict with the student senate and some protests against Iran in the late 1970s foreshadowed the divisive politics we are in today. And although the ties were not yet broken then, I think that the binds of trust between audience and journalist was starting to tear 40 years ago.

I don’t blame journalists for the braking of that trust. Since the Nixon administration, Republicans have discovered that bashing the “liberal” media is an effective strategy. It was not new even them, but as society changed, I think the intensity and level of distrust was on a steady upward trend, and Nixon made it a consistent, main strategy.

And I don’t hold journalists completely blameless, either. Sometimes, urban, college educated editors and reporters can seem out-of-touch and not empathic with those who don’t share all of their values.

This post is not going to offer any solutions. Not that I don’t think about the problem a lot, but I don’t think “lack of trust” is one single issue, nor is it one sided, nor does it negate the important and not always recognized role of morale witness that journalists still fulfill.

April of 1980. Looking at these old Calumets, I'm impressed at how hard we all worked, but shout out to sister Cate who had lots of big stories and did lots of art that helped decorate the paper. And here, sister Toni appears in one of my images of a twin cities science fiction convention--I'm sure we went there to visit my oldest sister Pat as well as go to the convention. I was surprised that I didn't really take lots of images--I became something of a photographer as well as a writer in my media career, but I was getting a start here.

And looking back, four decades later, it’s weird to see things seeming so familiar and yet so different. People don’t change as quickly as the world does, and even without smart phone or a world wide web, the passions and conflicts that challenged us in 1980 aren’t so alien today. I suppose that’s a more universal rule. History is worth studying because the world was so different in 1880 that people didn’t conceive of themselves or their reality in the way that we do. But they saw through eyes like ours, felt passions and attempted to be rational using brains that were wired differently by experience but structured the same with human DNA. A lot changed in 40 or 140 years. The species faces novel challenges and needs information about today—news—to manage its adjustment to shifting realities. Yet, we also remain fundamentally the same.

Forty years ago, partly moved by a positive experience with a news story about a steak joint and a McDonalds, I joined the journalism tribe. It was a time of hot wax and copy printed on photo paper that was literally stuck to a page. Any line, any border--well, be careful with those sharp little knives and learn to cut at a 45 degree angle to make neat corners. And corrections! Printing lines of copy. Cut and paste. Anybody seen the clear tape? Layout was more of a commitment back in the day when we weren't nudging text boxes around on computer screens.

Thank you, gods of technology, for InDesign. Some parts of the old days I don't miss so much. Anyway, thanks, Cate, for providing this time capsule of times past. And sisters Cate and Toni—wasn’t that weird time at The Calumet scary and frustrating and fun?

Ghost of Christmas past, but still, merry Christmas. Don't you love the 1970s typography?

Trump Golfs, Washington Burns

Joe Biden will be president next Jan. 20—that’s not opinion, but reality. But reporting reality seems to be something that gets the media into trouble, these days. The media are not believed by close to half of the voting public, the 70 million to whom Donald Trump is speaking truth as he denies reality.

Trump being delusional, immature and incompetent are nothing new, and helps explain why he has been fired. It’s always been about Trump to Trump—working hard to govern the country was never his thing. He lazily spends his days golfing and watching TV sending out crazy rage tweets. And his refusal to see the hand writing on the wall, to so gracelessly ignore the need for an orderly transition of power—it’s all totally normal for this flawed, abnormal man.

And yet. The Daily Show’s video of the MAGA march on Washington, calling for something or other, was a bit scary to me. So many so willing to attack the news media on baseless claims emanating from that famous source of unreliable nonsense, Donald Junk-for-brains Trump. Democracy dies in darkness and darkness seems to be closing in.

And the Donald has no incentives, now, nothing to preserve except perverse fame. Republican voices calling on him to do the right thing have been few. And I can’t help but think that it’s not only his hyper-active stupid gland at work, nor just the now reflexive craven GOP fear of the far-right base that keeps this sad charade going. I think the tweet storms and dark conspiracy claims keep the Trump base riled and up and are an attempt to excite them and fund raise. It may yet fuel Trump’s next move, which no doubt will involve some sort of awful fact-starved media.

He always was a reality TV star more than he was a business tycoon. He was never a successful captain of industry, but a spoiled rich kid who played one on TV. And as ex-president, the star power of this dim man shines brighter than ever.

Others have noted that Trumpism isn’t over with the defeat of Trump. The MAGA minions march in Washington signals the start of the next campaign. (Yes, yes, violence bad, don't hurt the MAGA minions, they get to march, too--but really, now we're concerned about people attacking protesters? At least the lawless lefty loons weren't acting under the order of a would-be dictator clearing a street for a photo op).

The campaign of 2016, after all, never ended. Having been elected president with no clear idea of what the job was, Trump occupied his time reveling in his imaginary landslide and reliving the glories of victory by continuing the only thing he liked--rallies to draw adoring crowds. They are so important to him that he continued that during a pandemic--reveling in mask-less cheers as he hopped across the country, cheefully ignoring the safety and health of his MAGA-nation.

And the pandemic rages on. Our Dear Leader rage tweets, encourages street marches and does absolutely zero to battle the deadly virus that has already robbed us of more than 250,000 souls. He is not only doing nothing, but he’s preventing the future president from even making contact with the government employees who will have to play catch up and cleanup on this raging mess once the Orange One is finally rolled out of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and the White House bleached from top to bottom.

Trump tweet, screen shot from my phone. I agree, get the straight jacket, but why do so many still believe him and still think it's the media that are lying to them?

I’m trying to see some light. I am happy Biden won. Yet I worry about my country when the right has continued to make the media the enemy. It seems like facts are the stranger in the this strange land.

And back in Iowa, a red-hot state of COVID-19 infections, our aw-shucks ol’ boy Senator, the Chuckster, tweets that he’s got the ’vid. He is not alone. My incoming representative in the House, “recovering” journalist Ashley Hinson, who left a career of reporting facts to joining a party that ignores them, also is isolated with the virus. Both report mild symptoms.

Get well, Chuck. Thoughts and prayers. But, can you also test positive for a backbone? Like maybe what the Dear Leader is doing (really, not doing) is not so OK?

Well, good, or goodish. Except a person with mild COVID-19 can breath out droplets that still may kill. And where, one wonders, did old Chuck and young Ashley encounter this virus? And why was it suddenly after the election that our governor, COVID-Kim, decided it was time to take sort of serious and mostly symbolic ineffective action?

Months too late, the gov says, Iowans are to wear masks, sort of. In big groups. Bars are closed—after 10 p.m. No sports. Except for the most popular ones at the high school and college levels. And before Nov. 3, we had all kinds of GOP campaign rallies, visits by un-wise men from the East, unmasked Republicans going together to cheer Trump and share infections, yet not a peep from COVID Kim Reynolds.

Chuck Grassley, above (official Senate portrait) and Ashley Hinson, below (image downloaded from her campaign web site and cropped) have tested positive for COVID19. Our elder senator and young congressperson-elect report their symptoms are mild. Would that it was the same for 250,000 Americans already lost and counting.

I don’t expect Chuck or Ashley to provide any leadership on the virus. They are too busy laying low when MAGA nonsense gets pushed via social media. And recovering from journalism.

And Trump? He’ll fire enemies, play golf and ignore the needs of the country. Because the needs of Trump have always weighed more with him than the needs of the country.

Meanwhile, the student staff at the newspaper I advise did some good work this week, including being direct with the powers-that-be that they are not doing enough to protect us. The students were writing about university administration—but the message they state holds true at the highest level of the land.

We must do more:

The young journalists get it. Why can't the recovering ones? You probably can't read this image of a newspaper page--here is a link to a PDF of the page. Their opinion columns are worth a read, too.

 

So Now the Rest of History Begins

Watching MSNBC Saturday night. After rousing intro by Kamala Harris, Joe Biden jogs out to give his speech. He's older than Trump, but I struggle to imagine Trump having the moves like Biden.

Joe Biden jogged to the lectern Saturday night. He spoke clearly, well, and powerfully. At 77, he seemed fit, aware and presidential.

It was a fine end to a beautiful day. I was surprised this morning when suddenly the news came. The first hint was a family message on WhatsApp, which is my headline news service, I suppose. I turned on the TV, and Morning Joe on MSNBC was telling me, a Joe, of the triumph of another Joe. I had not realized how on edge I have been for the past few days when suddenly the weight of this long count was lifted. The land of P!nk and also of Elizabeth Cochrane (a.k.a Pink, but a famous 19th century journalist writing as Nellie Bly, not a 21st century singer) had spoken. The boy from Scranton, Pennsylvania, will reside on Pennsylvania Avenue.

And before Biden spoke, we got to hear from the vice president-elect, Kamala Harris. She was rhetorically powerful, not just a wonderful warmup act, but a woman who is ready to lead the nation, should the need arise.

Kamala! In suffragette white she spoke, noting 100 years since the 19th Amendment, promising that she’s the first woman in her position—but she surely won’t be the last.

I think it turned out that old Joe chose well. Kamala delivers as VP-elect. Again, I'm watching MSNBC.

It’s to Joe Biden’s credit, as others have noted, that he picked one of his most effective opponents in the primary race to be his running mate, and tonight she delivered a speech that shows what a great choice that was.

I like Joe Biden even though he was never my first choice as a candidate this year, and honestly age was a factor in that. I would like a new generation of leaders to emerge. Well, inevitably they will, and seeing Joe speak so well tonight gives me some comfort. He seems to have the makings of a decent president, and I hope that's enough, because the problems loom larger than a tribble-headed orange autocrat.

An American president in the first quarter of the 21st century has to be effective in use of media. They have to be a TV personality, but also come across well on social media: YouTube, Twitter, etc. President Trump, for all my loathing of that loathsome human being, certainly was a media star in his own right.

And Trump came fairly close to winning a second term. The popular vote margin is not all that larger in 2020 and in 2016, and Biden’s campaign succeeded partly because it did not take the old “blue wall” states for granted this year.

Joe on my screen as I watch speech on MSNBC.

So, now the hard work begins. This country is deeply divided, and many in the Trump camp are convinced an election was stolen from them, mostly because it’s a lie their Dear Leader repeats over and over. A greater man and better president than Trump would calm the waters and offer transition help to the next president—but that’s not in Trump’s nature.

He’s a fighter, not a thinker. He does have some skill in media manipulation, in drawing attention, in firing up his base with incendiary rhetorical fire bombs. Sadly, he has shown no skill at governing. He claimed in 2016 that it was easy to act presidential, but has not tried to since. Damaging democracy is not even a thing he worries about, although I wish he did.

And Trump is wounded but still dangerous because he wields enormous power. I can’t help but think the raucous, wrong-headed protests at sites where election workers have quietly tried to carry on the task of making democracy work is due to Trump’s ill-advised, divisive rhetoric. Despite my happiness today, I can’t help but think that until Jan. 20, we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks.

Still, Trump the communicator is clearly not always skilled. Contrast the rambling, angry, incoherent and factually challenged address the Donald gave Thursday night with Joe’s performance tonight. One man was presidential, the other an angry, crazy old uncle, and the crazy one is the actual president today.

To most of the world, there’s no contest. America picked the right horse. See how Ireland's largest TV network covered the rise of Pennsylvania's most famous person of Irish ancestry:

US president-elect @JoeBiden reads the words of Irish poet Seamus Heaney pic.twitter.com/kWADRBFstw

— RTÉ News (@rtenews) November 7, 2020

But that's not the reality in Trumpland, which is close to half of America. I’m deeply disappointed that my state, Iowa, was on the wrong side of history in 2020. There is lots of anger and resentment in the red lands, and while Biden vows to be president of the whole United States, not just blue states, it remains to be seen if he can make it happen. Four years ago it was liberals who vowed "not my president," an equally toxic reaction on the right is already bubbling away. I hope Joe's conciliatory words helps heal that divide, a little, but it's been brewing for years, and I don't think one nice speech will quell this storm.
 

Yet, the media show tonight was great. Joe and Kamala were both compelling speakers. Let’s hope that the reality that follows the TV show will also turn out well, but I'm sure it will take some time.

MSNBC shot of crowd. Perhaps I watch "Firefly" too much. In my head, I hear a guitar chord followed by a man singing: "Jooooe! The man they call Jooooe!" In my estimation, any man who has had a statue been made of him is one kind of son of a bitch or another, to paraphrase the wisdom of Mal Reynolds. Still, tonight was a good night for Joes. May it be a sign of better days ahead.