What
impelled you to start writing music? I liked the way
it looked.
Where
had you seen it?
Well,
everybody has seen sheet music before.
But
were you studying it in grade school, or
was it just something you picked up as a
drummer?
No. In
my earliest experience I was doing a lot
of drawing, sketching, painting, and that
kind of stuff. And I was interested in
art, and I always liked the way music
looked. And I liked to listen to music,
but when I started writing it, I just
basically started doing it because I
liked the way it looked.
When
did you first start writing note down on
paper?
Around
14, I think.
And
it was pen on paper?
Yes. It
was a C5 Speedball.
Before
you even took up guitar?
Yeah. I
was still playing snare drum in
orchestra.
Did
you have a sense of being able to hear
what you were putting down?
Absolutely
not. I didn't have the faintest fucking
idea what it sounded like. I mean, I was
so ignorant, I thought that all you did
was you got an idea for the way it
looked, you drew it, and then you found a
musician who could read it - and that's
how you did it. I was literally that
naive. Fortunate for me, there weren't
any people around who could read music;
otherwise I probably would have stopped
very early in my career.
Have
you kept track of the exact number of
works you've done?
No.
It's in the hundreds.
Charles
Ives used to pile up music that he would
bind and put in the barn after a period
of time. Do you have the feeling of the
same accumulation of works that won't
ever be heard?
Yeah.
Well, I knew that most of them would
never be heard from the day I started
writing them. But you can hear them
yourself while you're writing them - once
you get past the graphic stage, at the
point where you know what the symbols
actually mean in terms of what it will
sound like if you ask somebody to do such
and such hy drawing this symbol on a
piece of paper. Once you understand what
the audio result is going to be of that
dot that you just drew, then you hear it
yourself as a writer.
Many
modern composers, though, have given up
because they can't get their work heard
by other people. Charles Ives once said
that the reason he ran an insurance
company was because he thought if he'd
been thinking of commercial music it
would be bad for his family because there
would always be conflict about whether
his stuff was going to sell or not. He
thought it would be bad for him because
he'd always be worried about that same
question, and ultimately it would
therefore be bad music. How have you
managed to avoid becoming an insurance
executive?
Well,
that's probably one of the great
mysteries of musical history: how I've
been able to afford the luxury of doing
what I like to do and earn a living at
it. One clue is that I started early, at
a time in the business when, if you were
doing something odd, you could get in and
get a con- tract - not a lucrative
contract - but you could at least get a
contract of some sort to make a record.
And you could build an audience based on
whatever the acceptance would he in that
odd thing that you did. Today it would he
impossible for anybody to get a contract
and do what I did. And after the first
contract expired, I began looking for
alternate ways to stay in the business
without being the victim of the record
companies. That finally led me to be my
own record company, which is not exactly
like being an insurance salesman. But
let's just say that the difference in
economic yield between what I would he
having as take-home pay if I was an
artist assigned to a label as opposed to
being a record company executive - there
is no comparison. Because even though I
don't sell enormous amounts of records,
the amount of cash that you can earn from
selling small amounts of records and
being your own record company makes all
the difference in the world.
Do
you have a sense of your audience today
being the same as your original one?
You
mean, are the people who buy my records
the ones who started buying them in
1964-'65?
Yeah,
the Mothers Of Invention crowd.
No. I
definitely know that it's not, even just
referring to the letters that we receive,
which are from all age groups. There's
little or no communication from anybody
that would fit the profile of an early
MOI fanatic. There are a few of them
still out there, but basically all they
liked was that early stuff. And that's
all they bought. That was it.
What
sort of organizational elements or ideas
do you use when you're creating? Do you
just sit down and think, "This is
going to be a 12- tone section," or,
"We're going to improvise this
part," or do you just sort of wing
it and then bring all your intuitive
skills into creating a work?
It
depends on what kind of a work it is.
When I first started off writing, it was
just writing. It was a graphic concept.
Then I found out about 12-tone music, and
I thought, "Oh, great. Now all I
have to do is keep all 12 notes in order
and there's no problem, and you don't
even have to worry about what it sounds
like because the intrinsic value is
determined arithmetically by how nicely
you've manipulated all these 12 notes and
making sure you don't hear note number 1
until number 12 gets its turn." I
was doing stuff like that at 17 and 18
years old. I finally got a chance to hear
some of it, and I really didn't like the
way it sounded, so I stopped doing it.
Twelve-tone
music of your own?
Yeah. I
mean, I had heard some 12-tone pieces by
other composers that I liked, which is
one of the reasons why I went in that
direction, but as a system it was too
limiting for me. I asked myself the basic
question: If the intrinsic value of the
music depends on your serial pedigree,
then who in the fuck is going to know
whether it's any good or not? Only the
people who sit down with the score and a
magnifying glass and find out how nicely
you rotated those notes. And that's
pretty boring. So I started moving in the
direction of what you might call a more
haphazard style. That's whatever sounded
good to me for whatever reason, whether
it was some crashing dissonance or a nice
tune with chord changes and a steady beat
in the background.
So
you're really just interacting with your
own work, and whatever musical skills
you've built up over the years really are
the organizational elements.
It's
like being a cook. And if you were a
really good cook, and you had a lot of
money for really excellent ingredients
and really good equipment, then you could
cook just about anything. Everything that
you need would be some easily
identifiable delicacy. But if you don't
have all the gear, and you don't have all
the finest ingredients, and you don't
even own a cookbook, but you still want
to eat, and nobody's going to cook it for
you, then you better find some other way
to improvise that dish. And that's kind
of the way the stuff gets put together.
Have
you ever tried to specifically imitate an
older form like a concerto in a grander
sense?
No. I
mean, I learned all about those things
during the times when I was studying, and
it just seemed to me that the reason why
those forms existed was so that people
with limited imaginations could
comprehend what the composer was
intending to do. A lot of those forms
were inflicted on composers by royalty,
who insisted that things should be in
little compartments like this, this, and
this. And if you weren't like that, then
it wasn't suitable for the consumption of
the king.
I
studied music theory and harmony with a
man who strongly felt that music should
reflect the sounds of any given time, and
that theory from Bach and Mozart's time
was not very relevant to our time or
music. In terms of reflecting modern
times and sounds, how far do you feel one
should go in sampling, say, jack hammers
or women in labor? you've built up a huge
catalog. Are these the elements you use?
I have
a very good jackhammer recording, which
was included in the album that I just
finished last night - Phaze III. I've got
jack hammers in it. There was a beautiful
digital recording made during the
construction of our new kitchen. I think
that my interest in these stems from
Varese's concept of organized sound. But
the musical question that I have is, what
constitutes organization? In other words,
if you have a really good recording of a
jackhammer, and you decide to splice it
into a really good recording of a woman
in labor, have you organized it or not?
At what point are you composing and at
what point are you collecting?
It's
interesting to hear what Stockhausen or
Boulez can do with 12-tone music, where
there's beauty coming out of something
that is potentially a very rigid and
dogmatic approach to creating something.
That's where the artistic element comes
in.
Well,
the element of beauty is pretty
subjective, too. You can listen to those
works and admire the organization, but
what you hear is a result of what
instruments are playing. And if you like
the instruments and the way that they're
being played, then the thing that you are
listening to is the activated air
molecules responding to a set of
instructions on paper, which are then
executed by the musicians, which then
tickle the air molecules, which then
tickle the microphone, and you get to
hear and make your decision. That same
piece played by any other group of
instruments or the jackhammer or the
woman in labor, even though it might have
the same serial pedigree, might not be as
fun to listen to.
Did
you learn by reading out of books on
counterpoint and ...
No, I
never studied counterpoint. I could never
understand it. I hated anything with
rules, except for 12-tone, because it was
so simple-minded. lt was as simple-minded
as the idea of getting a pen and some
paper and some Higgins ink and just
drawing some music. But all the rules of
counterpoint and what constitutes good
counterpoint, I just couldn't force
myself to do that, and I could barely
make it through the harmony book, because
all the formulas that you learn there
sounded so banal. Every time one of the
exercises was presented, you would hear
how the chords were supposed to resolve.
All I could hear was the infliction of
normality on my imagination. And I kept
wondering why should I pollute my mind
with this shit, because if I ever got
good at it, I'd be out of business.
When
Charles Ives was at Harvard studying
harmony he was going crazy the way you're
describing, and he wrote home to his
father, saying, "This guy wants me
to resolve my chords better," and
his father wrote him back and said,
"Tell your professor some chords
just don't want to resolve."
Well,
you can tell it to a professor if you
have that kind of a relationship with a
professor. I mean, I really didn't have
professors. The harmony training I got
was because I was an unruly senior in
high school, and they gave me permission
to take some harmony classes at the
adjoining junior college. They figured
that the reason why I was such a
delinquent was because my mind wasn't
occupied. So they let me take this course
at the junior college while I was a
senior. The guy who was teaching it was a
guy named Mr. Russell, who was a jazz
trumpet player, and I don't think that he
enjoyed harmony very much either, but
that's what he was teaching. I could have
said to him, "Hey, some chords
shouldn't resolve." And he would
probably say, "Yeah, but you'll get
a D if you don't resolve them."
What
book did he give you? Was it Walter
Piston's Harmony?
Yeah,
it was Piston.
That's
a hard one to stay awake through.
You
remember? I hate to read also. It's very
difficult for me to digest any kind of
information in that way. I'm pretty good
at the news magazines. But even with all
the digital equipment that I've got, I've
almost never cracked a manual on any of
it. Basically, I've learned how to work
it by just having somebody show me. And
then after I've learned the basics, I'll
figure out ways to make the system do
stuff that was never in the book in the
first place.
It's
a better way to learn.
Also,
in cases of digital equipment, even the
best is often accompanied by pretty
dismal technical manuals. It's not just
that they're boring to read, they're also
incomplete. And some of the things that I
do with the equipment, the manufacturers
never envisioned that such a task would
be performed. So even if you've read the
book from cover to cover, you'd still
have to call the company and say,
"Will it do this? If it won't, Can
you put these two wires together to make
it do that?"
How
many hours a day do you work; Do you have
a regular schedule?
Well, I
work as many hours a day as I can
physically stand to. The average is about
15 now.
Seven
days a week?
Yeah,
eight if I can squeeze it in.
Don't
you take little vacations?
When I
get tired, I go to sleep.
How
do you break your work time down? It's
not like an hour listening, an hour
practicing, an hour revising, an hour
writing?
What I
do depends on what kind of a job I'm
working on. Like, for the last two
months, I've been heavily involved in
record production, so a record production
workday would be a different kind of a
workday than one on the Synclavier.
Usually, I just get up, get something to
eat, go downstairs, and go right to the
Sonic Solutions [Frank's editing system
for mastering CDs]. I'll transfer tapes
onto the hard drive and start editing
them, equalizing them, and building
things. And then, after an album has been
constructed, I'll dump it off, reload the
hard disk, and keep going. And I usually
work at night to do that sort of thing.
We have an engineer - Spencer Chrislu -
who works from 9:00 in the morning until
7:00 at night, four days a week. My
schedule overlaps his. I'll give him
instructions on what needs to be mixed,
tell him how I want it done, and he'll
get the thing set up. By that time, I'll
go to sleep for four or five hours and
then get up in the afternoon, and he will
either have completed the mix or be about
ready to put the thing on tape. So I'll
sit with him from, say, 4:00 to 7:00 and
supervise the mixes. And I take an hour
off to eat. And by 8:00, I'm back at the
Sonic Solutions. I usually work until
about 4:00 or .5:00 in the morning.
Have
you ever lost any of your music in a
computer crash or a tape meltdown?
Yeah.
How
do you protect or store your work?
Well,
operating the Sonic Solutions is a little
bit like playing with isotopes, because
you never know when it's going to do
weird things to you. It's a fantastic
device, but there are some incredible
bugs in the software, and it can do
heinous things to you. One of the things
that you have to learn to live with is a
little sign that pops on the screen every
once in a while that says, "Free
memory is now less than 250Mb. You may
wish to close some files you are not
using or reboot in order to clear the
system memory." And if you don't do
that right away - if you don't stop what
you're doing and reboot this thing, which
takes about five minutes - what it will
do is randomly erase whole files on the
hard disk. I don't know why. It's like
it's got its own built-in virus that gets
you every once in a while.
Have
you talked to the manufacturer?
Oh,
yeah. We haven't been hired as a beta
test site, but I'll guarantee you that if
they haven't taken into consideration
fixing some of the things that we've
experienced here when upgrading their
software and their hardware, they've lost
a good bet. One of the reasons why I got
this thing is because it's possible to do
multi-channel edits in it, not just for a
stereo device. And in preparation for
this project in Germany, we had been
doing six-channel mixes of Synclavier
stuff and other things, and I needed a
device that would allow me to glue these
things together. So I purchased from them
this upgraded, multi-channel system, and
from day one, it didn't work. They've had
their engineers down here fucking around
with this thing. It's unbelievable. I
still haven't signed the check over to
them. I said the day you make this system
work, you get the money. [Ed. Note: The
company has since been paid. The unit
works.]
How
many Sonic Solutions are there?
I don't
know. I hope there's thousands of them,
because I want this company to stay in
business, because it's a good machine.
The things that it can do! I mean, can
you imagine a Mac-based system that has
software that will allow you to
automatically take clicks and crackles
and noise out of tape? The de-noising
software for this thing - which is
something that I didn't buy because it
was too expensive - but I wish I would
have had something Like that when I first
started working on the catalog of all the
old tapes. All you need is just a little
sample of the tape hiss or the room noise
or whatever it is that you want to get
rid of, like just the merest amount of
audio between the paper leader and where
the music starts, and the machine will
take a snapshot of that noise. And it
builds a filter, and you run your music
through that filter, and the music stays
and the noise goes.
Do
you oversee all performances of your
orchestral music?
No, I
stopped doing that after my experience
with the London Symphony Orchestra.
What
happened?
Well, I
made two albums and there was a live
performance, and as a result of the first
album coming out, it let some people know
that this music existed. Since the time
of that album's release, there have been
a lot of orchestral performances all over
the world, and every time an orchestra
calls up for music, they would like to
have me come there and be in the concert.
And that's impossible. These people can
barely afford to rehearse the music.
They're going to buy me a plane ticket to
go there and listen to what they did
[arches eyebrow in doubt]?
Kent
Nagano says working with you is a
wonderful experience because you're so
involved with the specific individuals in
the orchestra, listening to their ideas,
considering them carefully, and then
excerpting from them or even changing
your own original idea. Have you had
equal success with Zubin Mehta's or
Pierre Boulez's groups?
Well,
the case of working with Zubin was all
pretty cut and dried. The Los Angeles
Philharmonic management thought that it
would he a successful concert. They
certainly didn't do it because of musical
content. Basically, I had to buy the
privilege of having my music performed by
the Los Angeles Philharmonic. In order to
prepare the parts for the orchestra, I
had to pay the copying rate, which in
1971 was somewhere between $7,000 and
$10,000. I'll guarantee you I didn't make
anything like that from the concert. Plus
the fact that they wouldn't even let me
make a cassette. recording of the
performance. They told me that if I
turned the tape on, I would have to pay
the whole orchestra Musicians' Union
scale. So they had two rehearsals for all
this music, and - you know - it was a
festive occasion because there was a rock
group on stage and an orchestra playing,
and it was being done in a basketball
stadium. So there we have it: As far as
working with Boulez, the musicians were a
little bit different. First of all, there
were fewer of them, so you could actually
have memorable conversations with them.
And a number of them had asked mc to
write solos for them. One of the brass
players was also the head of a brass
quintet that worked within Boulez's
Ensemble Intercontemperain. And he wanted
me to write some brass music. And usually
percussionists will come up to me and ask
me for music. I never did manage to do
any of those things, because they all
take time.
I
love The Perfect Stranger.
Well,
then you're going to love the new release
of it, because it's coming out on CD.
When it was originally released, Angel
pressed 5,000 copies. Digital recording
was in its infancy at that time, and I've
always been less than enthusiastic about
the sound of that first CD. I thought
that it didn't come anywhere near what
the musicians really sounded like in the
room. Last July or so, we got a new Neve
console in the studio, which is far
cleaner and much better sounding than the
Harrison that we had for the last 10 or
12 years. So I remixed it. And those new
mixes are on the CD re-release.
You've
reissued so many of your albums as CDs;
is that to clean up the past?
Well,
to the extent that it's feasible. I
received some negative comments about
some of the ways that I tried to clean up
some of the early albums. And now that I
have the Sonic Solutions, it's possible
to go back to those early Mothers Of
Invention albums, take the original
mixes, and run them through this device,
and for all the purists out there, at
some later date, put out a CD version of
those original mixes cleaned up in a very
professional way.
People
like to hold on to the past Some cling to
the notion that vinyl is better and that
CDs somehow pollute what music ought to
be.
I think
that the major drawback to the CD is the
tiny size of the artwork. I believe one
of the that people who collect records
like is the tactile sensation of handling
a well-conceived album package. There can
be stuff in it, and if you've got
something in your hand, then you can read
it, and the pictures look better. That's
one drawback about a CD. It's a little,
square plastic thing.
My
aging eyes have a harder time reading the
little inserts than they do the fliers
that used to come in the records.
Well, I
don't read them. My eyesight has gone to
shit, and I'll rarely bother to try
squinting at the micro type on those
things. Only if I'm absolutely in need of
vital information will I reach for my
glasses and squint at the package. 1 like
a CD because it's convenient, and to my
ear it sounds better than vinyl, because
I always hated the squashed dynamic range
and the intrusion of all those little
crackles.
What
was the first performance of your
"serious" music?
Actually,
the first time I had any of it performed
was at Mount St. Mary's College in 1962.
What
was the occasion?
I spent
$300 and got together a college
orchestra, and I put on this little
concert. Maybe less than 100 people
showed up for it, but the thing was
actually taped and broadcast by KPFK.
Last year a guy in England, who somehow
got a copy, sent me a cassette of it, but
I haven't bothered to listen to it.
Are
you afraid to?
No. But
listen: Anything that takes place in real
time needs to be budgeted. Listening
requires real time. Spooling material
onto your hard disk requires real time,
and I'm very conscious about how much
time it takes to do certain things, so I
limit the recreational listening and try
to spend as much time as I can actually
making product and doing work.
When
you were building your career, then, your
focus on so-called "serious
music" began much earlier than your
becoming a rock and roll star.
By the
time I graduated from high school in '58,
I still hadn't written any rock and roll
songs, although I had a little rock and
roll band in my senior year. I didn't
write any rock and roll stuff until I was
in my twenties. All the music writing
that I was doing was either chamber music
or orchestral, and none of it ever got
played until this concert at Mount St.
Mary's.
And
did it sound like music is supposed to
sound?
Oh, no.
It was all oddball, textured weirdo
stuff.
You
started out that way, and as time went on
it got more so.
Ycah.
In fact, this concert even involved
sounds on tape. I was doing tape editing
of electronic music and part of all the
pieces had this little cheesoid Wollensak
tape recorder in the background pumping
out through mono speakers - sounds that
were supposed to blend with the acoustic
instruments. And there were sections of
improvisation and a lot of different
experimental techniques.
Varese
wasn't doing that stuff. Who was
influencing you at that time?
By that
time, I had already heard Stockhausen. I
had already heard Boulez. I had heard
Pierre Schaeffer. I had a much broader
musical horizon than just my first Varese
album, and even owning that was a major
achievement, living in Lancaster
[California] and trying to get ahold of
that kind of stuff. Try to figure that
out. Well, the Varese record I actually
got when I was in high school in San
Diego. But by the time I moved up to
Lancaster, I was really isolated. We were
poor and albums were expensive, so if you
were going to invest that kind of money
in some sort of audio artifact, by golly,
you were going to listen to it until it
was dust. You were going to get your
fuckin' money's worth out of it. And so
my musical education came from vinyl and
large 12-inch-square things that you
could actually read on the back. And some
of these albums had useful liner notes.
Did
you have to pay for those yourself?
Well I
got a little allowance, and I saved my
allowance up, and then I could buy them,
because they were too big to steal. If
Stockhausen had been on 45s!
You
would have been much more educated
sooner:
Sure.
If they would have had singles of that
type then, because those are the kinds of
things you could stuff in your pants or
your jacket. I would say maybe 3% of my
R&B 45 collection was achieved
through illicit means, but the albums
not.
I
grew up in Kansas City, and I remember
hearing Shostakovich when I was a little
kid and liking him a lot, but Varese and
Stockhausen just weren't at the record
store. It was like trying to find black
music on the radio.
All
those things can be harmful to a young
persons mind. In states like Kansas, you
probably get the death penalty for
distributing a record like that.
In
medieval times, playing a third was
verboten because it was considered too
beautiful, and people concluded that it
therefore came from the devil. And then
later playing a tritone was also ruled
verboten because it heralded the coming
of the devil. And even in the South, when
Robert Johnson whanged away on his
acoustic guitar, the blues was synonymous
with "holding hands with the
devil." What is there about music
that's considered so scary to people?
You
have to remember who's writing about it.
The real question is, if a person must
write about music, why must he often
mention the devil in the same context?
That's
what I m asking you.
It
tells you more about the mentality of
music writers than it does about music
listeners, because the goal of the writer
is self-aggrandizement. There's only one
reason to write: because you consider
yourself to he a writer, and you want
people to pay attention to what you
wrote. It's the bane of your existence
that you must write about somebody else
doing something that you can't do. The
general summary that I make of most
people who are in the world of music
criticism - be it for rock and roll or
whatever - the important thing is how
clever will your column be. A lot of
people are forced into the world of rock
and roll musical criticism; at least
there is such a world to keep them
employed, because they sure as fuck
couldn't do anything else. So it doesn't
surprise me that one often finds
references to the devil in any kind of
music criticism.
Here's
the other thing you have to remember
about the early writers on music: The
people who could write were writing for
an audience that was very limited,
because not everyone could read in those
days. And those who could were of the
church and the nobility, people who
certainly had dealings with the devil
because they helped to invent the son of
a bitch in order to keep the
potato-eaters in line!
Kent
Nagano says that you and he have had an
ongoing discussion about art and
entertainment. He says that you believe
all art should be entertaining, while he
feels art could be something more than
entertainment.
Well, I
don't really understand people who think
of art as an antidote to entertainment
something that should not give you a
pleasurable experience. What's wrong with
that? I mean, the idea of punitive art -
that sounds like something from the East
Village.
An
"effete snobbism," perhaps?
I don't
know whether I would use those kinds of
terms, because I happen to think that
snobbery is all-pervasive. Every social
group has its own special snobbery. You
don't have to be a guy with a top hat and
a bow tie on to he a snob. You can be
snobby and be a truck driver. There's
always somebody who doesn't belong to
your set. You're always looking for
somebody who's either below you or
outside your social realm. So, to put
something down - describe it as an alien
phenomenon, in terms of snobbery, is
something that I don't think makes a very
good argument. It's a strange idea, to
me, to think that the more strenuous the
experience is, the more artistic it is -
like the ugliest picture is the best art.
What do you mean? Who needs that shit?
The most interminable, grinding
composition, even if it's well conceived,
should you be forced to consume it
because somebody says it's artistic, or
should you consume it because you like
it?
So
it s not like you would ever subscribe to
one of those comments where people feel
that artists are somehow better than
other people.
Well, I
don't think that they are better. They're
definitely different.
What
do you see as different?
I just
think that it's a different process to
create a piece of music than it is to
bounce a check, even though they both may
he a little hit creative. Creative people
may from time to time bounce checks, but
people in Congress very seldom write
sonatas.
Why
do you think people in Congress look so
askance at artists? What's the problem
with the message of art?
It's
very threatening to them because there's
always a chance that an artist will speak
his mind, and a politician never will,
and there's a certain envy there.
You
say the most grinding music shouldn't
necessarily have to be endured. How much
consideration do you feel the artist
should take in presenting or creating for
an audience?
You
have to have some picture in your mind of
what you're doing and who you're doing it
for. And the way I do mine is, I have to
like it first. If I like it, then it's
good, and it's done. And then if somebody
else likes it, then that's good, too. And
if they don't, that's too had.
And
you feel that over the years you've been
able to reach a level whereby you're
satisfying your own particular artistic
needs and luckily, at the same time
reaching a volume of people who seem to
like it?
Well,
the biggest difficulty I have is getting
the product to market, because there are
so many forces aligned against me as an
independent.
The
tyranny of radio, you mean?
It's
not just radio. I mean, I've experienced
things like major record-store chains
owned by Christians who refused to stock
my work. The most recent example, I
think, was in Billboard about a year or a
year and a half ago. This chain from
Washington State refused to stock my
records. They wouldn't even stock
instrumental albums.
Because
of your strong language?
Let me
just say that there isn't anything on any
of my records that isn't piled four
inches deep on any of the rap albums that
are major economic successes. I mean,
there's nothing I've ever said on any of
my albums in terms of sexual lyrics that
hasn't been surpassed many times over in
current rap or dance music. The thing
that's threatening, I believe, is the
fact that these people know that if they
come after me, I won't keep my mouth
shut. I'll fight back. I'm not stupid.
And one of the hallmarks of contemporary
life is what I perceive to he a
conspiracy against conscious thought.
Every aspect of government at every level
has conspired to minimize education and
to punish any individual or group that
chooses to experience the full benefits
of the First Amendment. The contemporary
message - the subtext of contemporary
life - is keep your fucking mouth shut
and he a drone. And government is set up
in such a way now with its complete
disregard for the value of education that
they're going to perpetuate a type of
stupidity that makes it possible to have
an entire nation of people watching
late-night infomercials on TV with their
phone-in credit card. How else could such
things exist, if it weren't for the
disastrous state of education in America?
Is
this an historical norm or a worsening
trend?
Once
you start this particular spiral, it goes
only down, because once a couple of
generations have gone through this
American education mill, these people as
adults will never be Likely to fund an
improvement in the system, because they
hated it while they went through it,
because basically it ripped their brains
out, and now they have children, and
their children have to go through it,
too. And they don't want to take time out
of their busy schedule or spend their
precious cash that they were saving up
for their recreational vehicle or
whatever it is to finance a bond issue to
make a school better.
What
do you think happened in this country?
Well,
two important things, and each one of
them has only three letters One was LSD,
a chemical which is capable of turning a
hippie into a yuppie, one of the most
dangerous chemicals known to mankind. And
the other is MBA. When people started
taking MBA seriously, that was the
beginning of the ruination of the
American industrial society. When all
decisions are based on an MBA's concept
of numerical reality, you're in deep
shit, because the only thing that can he
judged as real is that which can be
proved by a column of figures. And when
all aesthetic decisions are turned over
to these kinds of people, who use these
criteria to make steering decisions for a
company with no regard for people and no
regard for what the product really is,
and the only thing that matters is
maximizing your profit, you have a
problem. Because you can't have duality
then; you cannot have excellence.
Quality's expensive. I think most of
these people that come from business
schools have the desire to make sure
everything is cheesy. That's what happens
when you do things that way.
Do
you think this problem permeates all
establishments?
I think
it's specifically an American type of
thing.
Do
you think we'll succeed in spreading it
worldwide?
I'm
very upset about what's happening in
Russia and in Eastern Europe, with this
new changeover to Western-style
economics. They are the ones who are the
most vulnerable to this kind of
chicanery, because all of these so-called
experts that are going in there to help
them set up their new economies are
people from this MBA school of thought.
And having visited these areas and seen
what great culture they have, it saddens
me to see that now it's all going to die.
And it's all going to be stopped by the
MBA mentality. There's only one thing
that's worse than our exploitation by
so-called financial experts. That's
evangelical missionary work. These two
things are the most anti-cultural acts
that a nation can take against another
nation.
Go
in and "fix" them up.
Yeah.
On one hand, you have the arrogance of
economists who believe that because their
column of figures adds up, the infliction
of this technique on another culture is
something that is going to create a
benefit. Well, I think that's going to be
proven very wrong in the Eastern Bloc
countries.
How
quickly?
Within
five years. I don't know if it'll revert
into a more socialistic system. It's
really a nightmare for that part of the
world. In the past, the nightmare was the
authoritarian nature of communism. I
think the statistic in the Soviet Union
showed that every third person worked in
the KGB. That's a big fuckin' payroll.
But it's full employment. They have grown
accustomed to a world in which some sort
of government agency Looks out for every
aspect of their social well-being. And
all of that has vanished. Now put
yourself in their shoes. Suppose you had
to change overnight to another system.
And every benefit, small as it might be,
from the American government was suddenly
nonfunctional. It's gone. You'd be
totally baffled. You'd be looking for a
way to get back to something that gave
you a feeling of security and a reason
for going to work the next day. The
people I've met over there are not just
interested in money. Of course they like
to own things - they want a better car, a
better house, all that kind of normal
stuff. But they also have an appreciation
for their culture, and they don't want to
see it vanish just because there's no way
to fund it.
I'll
give you an example of what has happened
- the most ridiculous one. The revolution
in Czechoslovakia was conducted mainly by
artists and students. It was an artistic
revolution. Under he old system, if you
were an artist or something like that,
you got a salary, you could work or do
your craft. Now this switch-over is
starting. Under the new system, there's
no cash for any of that. And if you
perform in some sort of activity that is
language-dependent, you're sunk. In other
words, if you're a painter, you can
export. If you're a musician, you can
export. If you're a dancer, you can
export. But if you're an actor or a
writer, and you're functioning in the
Czech or Hungarian or Russian language,
it's hard for you to export. These are
the people who caused this revolution in
the first place, and they don't get paid
anymore! Think they're not sitting around
going, "Wait a minute, what the fuck
did we just do here?"
Omitting
details like that seems to be a
continuation of a strange new phenomenon
where we have CNN presenting spectacular
world events as though they're the
football game of the week. We assume
everything's hunky-dory when there's some
Big Climax like the dismantling of the
Berlin Wall or Tiananmen Square, and then
we turn on the next World Crisis like the
Iraqi war where we have Bernard Shaw
telling us of missiles going overhead,
but then in the end we get no body counts
or anything no real in formation. I don't
understand what all this
"communication"is about that
we're having these days.
Want me
to explain it to you?
Yeah.
Okay.
Well, thanks to democracy, we now have a
freely elected Fascist government in the
United States, elected by just plain
folks - same people you graduated from
high school with.
|