The Truth Hurts

March 4th, 2008Blog4 comments

From the New York Times today: Love and Consequences, a memoir about gang life turns out to be a fabrication. Apparently everything in it was made up, and the editors never sussed that out. The actual truth had to come from the author’s sister, who read an article about the book and broke the story to the publisher.

A lot of tough questions come out of this one. Here we have Margaret Seltzer, a white writer, taking on the fictional persona of Margaret B. Jones, a pseudonym who claims to be half white, half Native American. Why did she feel the need to add a dash of brown to her ethnic mix? Did that make her story easier to buy?

In addition, the author didn’t grow up in South Central L.A. — she grew up in Sherman Oaks, natch. She never lived with a foster family, never ran with a gang. Her life was the splendid opposite.

It’s all very interesting. Here is a person who wrote and sold a book claiming good intentions — she says in an interview after being exposed: “I just felt that there was good that I could do and there was no other way that someone would listen to it.” Apparently, she also cashed a check from her publisher with those same good intentions, and was about to take those good intentions and roll fiction out as fact.

What a fucking jackass. She is a literary wolf in sheep’s clothing, feeding off of white guilt and good will while wearing the mask of someone who had supposedly suffered. Fuck her and the Volvo she rode in on.

At this point you might be thinking, “Hey hey Mike, haven’t you been talking about veracity and how things should feel true but don’t have to be factually true?”

Yes yes, but I’m talking about fiction. “Love and Consequences” was sold to the world as a memoir. It was already stamped with the claim of being true. And that’s a powerful thing. It says to the world that THIS HAPPENED. This happened in real life to a real person — it is already true, and as such, the world really does operate in this manner and these things really do happen. So take notice.

Fiction has to become true. It is on the onus of fiction to prove itself true, to build up proofs and argue for itself and touch a person in a true way. It has to point towards and posit a universal truth that we all share. That’s why the truth has the word “the” in front of it. There’s only one truth.

A memoir claims to already be in the realm of truth. It has nothing to prove — it just needs to tell its story with the reader knowing it’s already part of The Truth. Be shocked, be touched, but knowing that a memoir is real gives it the power of truth.

And now here is the rub: A fake memoir like “Love and Consequences” not only does damage by being fiction offered as truth — it does harm to REAL memoirs about gang life and growing up in South Central L.A.. It takes the food out of the mouths of people who really grew up there and are really writing the truth. It takes marketing money, royalties, a living wage out of the authors of those books.

Imagine it: With the money spent publishing and promoting “Love and Consequences”, a REAL memoir that is actually, factually true could have been published and promoted. And that’s a crime that can never be forgiven.

And what is especially troubling is that this book made it this far. And there is a serious question that needs to be asked of the publishing industry: How much did race, and the idea of a white writer playing Goldilocks in danger, play in getting a pack of lies published as the truth?

They were ready to believe it and sell it. Why? Because the idea of a white girl growing up in the hood is tantalizing? Even more so than the truth, apparently.

Promise and Delivery

March 3rd, 2008Blog0 comments

There’s a pretty good article in Salon today on Brand America: How to save America’s reputation.

One thing that it notes is that a brand is about making a promise and delivering on it.

“The virulent strain of anti-Americanism we’re seeing now can be ascribed directly to the fact that we’ve reneged on our promise to the world,” says Dick Martin, former executive vice president of public relations for AT&T, and author of the book “Rebuilding Brand America.”

True. American cars were a noteworthy brand until they started becoming inferior in quality and price to foreign cars in the 1970s. They reneged on their promise. The article goes on to mention Kentucky Fried Chicken:

“At its root, a brand is a promise. KFC is a brand that promises finger-lickin’-good chicken; America is a brand that promises life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But unlike KFC, we’re not delivering.”

You’re goddamned right KFC delivers. When I get a KFC craving and I head over there, I always get exactly what I’m picturing in my mind. There has been no deviation or disappointment. Not only do they deliver on their promise, but they’re consistent.

Delivering on a promise is one thing. Being consistently great, consistently right, is the next level above. But how do you maintain consistency while trying to become better at what you do? If you’re constantly trying new things, how do you retain quality while always reaching for the unknown?

I think the thing to do is operate like a corporation: Have an R&D department. Try new things and methods out initially as hobbies while maintaining and growing your main business. Be consistent in what you do well now, and if you discover new abilities or an opening somewhere, then start investing in that area. Eventually, you’ll become consistent there too. But you shouldn’t let go of your main business as long as it’s viable.

People keep saying to work smarter and not harder. I think that’s bullshit. You should be working both smart and hard.

This video ruined my day today. I really, really hope it’s fake. Every monster that has ever lived has had a human face.

Throwing puppies off cliffs! Fuck yeah!

Verses

March 2nd, 2008Blog0 comments

So I needed to write some hip hop lyrics. Not only that, but the lyrics needed to sound like they had been written by a 16 year old nerd — with certain references and in an unpolished voice. That actually made things easier for me.

This is the first verse of what I came up with:

I writes lyrics like a Rasta rolls mad joints
I’m dodging enemies as they try to decrease my hit points
I’m almost outta lives, gots to insert more coins
I’m improbable like Louis Farrakhan eatin a pork loin

That last line probably isn’t in sync with the sixteen year old nerd thing, but it had to go in.