Published on
August 21, 2009 in
poetry.
One of my favorite Neruda poems, I read it while I was living in Italy.
Turqoise, I love you
as if you were my girlfriend
as if you were mine:
you are everywhere:
you are just washed,
just recently sky blue,
just fallen from above:
you are the sky’s eyes:
you slice through the surface
of the shop, of the air:
blue almond:
sky talon:
bride.
I watched the “San Francisco” episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations the other night. I thought I’d jot down my thoughts.
It was a bit strange watching this episode. Most of the other episodes have been in locales I haven’t lived in or visited, and it was quite a gear switch to be watching Tony on my home turf.
Tony visited some good places, but I was surprised he visited some other places that I consider mediocre. However, opinions on food are subjective, so I can’t say with affirmation that there is right or wrong here. I was also a bit amazed he didn’t visit other places I thought he would or should. In retrospect, I am placated that he missed some really good places, because that means they’ll stay good. Few things kill a good bar or restaurant more than a cameo in a television show.
I noticed he had martinis at not one, but three different places during the course of the show. That was a bit of a let-down for me, because San Francisco is such a revolutionary cocktail town – where’s the diversity in the cocktails? OK, so he had some lychee martinis at R&G Lounge, but of all the cocktail offerings in San Francisco, why lychee martinis? And Tony, you were less than a hour from the most popular wine country in the US and you didn’t go to one wine bar?
There was something quite “off” about Tony in this episode, I thought. He didn’t seem as into the whole thing this time. Who knows, maybe he was tired, maybe he was bored, maybe he didn’t want to exploit all of San Francisco’s true secrets, or maybe it was all the martinis and the sandwich as big as Giada de Laurentiis’ head.
I’ve attended the Burning Man festival in Nevada many times; in fact, I am a volunteer Black Rock Ranger. It’s been a truly memorable experience that I recall fondly. One of the things about Burning Man that makes it special is the freedom of self-expression in an environment that is sans arrêt (without judgment.)
As someone who tried to make a living as a professional photographer at one point, I’m pretty adamant about protecting my photo copyrights. Burning Man’s draconian and hypocritical photography rules have always left a bad taste in my mouth.
This past week, the EFF called out Burning Man on their photography rules and Burning Man defended itself. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long for the issue to get this much attention; I’ve been aware of it for years, and Jamie Zawinski has me beat; he figured it out in 2001.
While I realize the policy is to protect the attendants of the event from having their private affairs publicized, it’s a slippery slope. The same entity that promises they’re protecting us is also imploring that we cede a valid right to them. These two things are in direct conflict with each other.
BM isn’t using these rigorous rules to only halt non-consensual exploitation; they are also using these rules to enable them to use these photographs for commercial use, royalty-free. And I am not okay with that.
Yes, we should ask first before we photograph people. Yes, we should not be leering assholes who take photographs of naked women without their consent and then plaster them all over the internet. But that also doesn’t give Burning Man carte blanche to dismantle the rights of legitimate photographers and journalists, or to control how the myriad of visual chronologies of the event are presented. The same organization that promotes freedom of speech and expression shoots itself in the foot when it seeks to control and censor innocuous mementos and journalistic integrity.