stimulus

It’s stimulus time, which means it’s time to put the call out for donations again.

If you are financially able – which is to say, you’re not having trouble paying your bills, rent, and putting food on the table – please consider donating your stimulus. If you make too much to receive a stimulus, then set aside $600 (or more!) to donate. A lot of people have spent most of 2020 unemployed, and this stimulus is basically a joke compared to a year without work.

Start by making sure your friends and family are okay. Asking about other people’s financial situation can be sensitive – something I learned in 2020 is that many people are very reluctant to ask for or accept help, even when they’re at rock bottom. Here’s a few tips for navigating these conversations:

1. Give unconditionally and respect their privacy: don’t ask for specifics about their situation. Don’t ask what they need the money for.

2. Make it easy for them to accept help by removing power dynamics: don’t make it a loan, don’t expect anything in return. Owing debts to friends is a terrible feeling and can ruin relationships. 3. Turn it into an expression of love: tell people why you care about them enough to support them in this way. Make their fucking day.

If you don’t know anyone personally that needs help, then look after your local community. Restaurants, bars, clubs, music venues and event spaces have been asking for help all year. Google “<your city/neighborhood> mutual aid” and there’s a good chance you’ll see a variety of local organizations providing many kinds of aid in your neighborhood. The two biggest issues right now are homelessness and hunger, and money towards housing and feeding people is extremely “efficient” in terms of impact. If you want to see what your money does, they’ve all got newsletters and instagram accounts with regular updates. Here are three NYC-based orgs I can strongly recommend:

– Bed Stuy Strong does amazing work – food and PPE distribution, community cleanup, internet access, basically everything they can do to improve equity. Their guiding principles are an excellent, thoughtful read. https://bedstuystrong.com/

– Bushwick Ayuda Mutua is the same thing but for Bushwick. They’re doing reachouts in Maria Hernandez park all the time, and prioritize the hispanic community in Bushwick. https://bushwickayudamutua.com/

– Food Bank NYC is the most impactful org dollar-for-dollar in getting food to people in the city. There’s been record numbers of food insecure people this year and $20 is enough to supply 100 meals. https://www.foodbanknyc.org/

Then, if you’ve given to your friends and community, consider larger organizations. You can’t give to every cause in need, so I recommend focusing on areas you feel strongly about. What are the problems that keep you up at night or suck you in whenever you’re scrolling the feed? For me, I care about drugs, prisons, journalism, and technology, so I’ve been donating to these orgs:

– The Marshall Project provides the best investigate journalism for criminal justice in the country, and they offer a platform for incarcerated people to share their stories. https://www.themarshallproject.org/

– ProPublica focuses almost exclusively on deep investigate reporting, which are high quality and laser-focused on meaningful, relevant problems. https://www.propublica.org/

– Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) is currently running the largest research study for MDMA-assisted psychotherapy, which is a huge step towards decriminalization. https://maps.org/

There’s the classics, too – Planned Parenthood, ACLU – but for me, giving to large orgs is a draining exercise. You mostly get spam in the mail in return, which feels gross. But I do believe in their work.With any organization, it’s strongly recommended you set up recurring donations rather than donating a lump sum. This makes their budgeting process significantly easier and enables them to think more long-term about their work.

Whatever you do, please donate as much as you can. Find the people and causes you care about most, and make their day.

colonizer

this is probably the first year where i’ve spent significant time thinking critically about Thanksgiving. it’s not that I never knew the history – the genocide, the exploitation, the theft – but the nature of the holiday always felt apolitical to me. it’s just about gathering around food. what could be more harmless? lots of countries have fall harvest celebrations, after all.

this feeling was tied up in the idea that these sins are in the distant past. the damage is done. we can learn about the history, but it won’t change anything. it sucks, but what are you gonna do?

a turning point in my thinking here came through understanding a simple idea: many indigenous people reject the label “Native American” – because they were here before it was called America. the name itself erases their history. i learned how many Mexican and Mexican-American people are indigenous to these lands. here we have this endless conflict over “illegal immigration” – all over land we evicted them from, then we criminalized them for coming back to earn pennies per hour working our farms to fuel our ritual holiday food waste.

from there, i began to understand that this isn’t ancient history. theft of land continues, perhaps most visible through the Dakota Access Pipeline and the Keystone Pipeline. today, right now, the virus is ravaging tribal communities that have been intentionally underserved by our government. the same engines of betrayal and murder are operating today, just as they were 500 years ago.

meanwhile, indigenous culture decorates the landscape around us. our streets, parks, cities, counties, and states use tribal names and language with no understanding of their meaning. i was born near the Natchez Trace, but never learned anything about the Natchez tribe. i grew up next to Cayuga lake, but for all of Ithaca’s woke trappings i never learned one iota of Cayuga or Seneca history. Brooklyn was once Lenape territory, but i’d never even heard that name until early this year. you can see what indigineous territories you occupy through this map: https://native-land.ca/

all of this is an area where i’m woefully unlearned. i’m working through the discomfort of accepting that i’m a settler, descended from settlers, and that is inextricable from my identity as a white American. i have much, much more to learn.

it’s hard. i still feel myself getting defensive when i listen and hear the raw anger of indigenous folks. it often feels hopeless and depressing the more i learn, but we call it work for a reason. it’s not fun. but it’s necessary.

old-fashioned

something that’s always tripping me up when I want to spend less time on social media is that i don’t want to lose sight of my friends. it’s nice to see your faces and a bit of what you’re up to. i’m lucky to know amazing artists and writers and organizers and meme curators whose work graces my feed once in a while.

but that’s like 10% of the experience here.

social media is a perpetual nightmare machine, endlessly zooming into our collective anxiety because that’s the most effective way to hold our attention and keep us posting. we have to get away from platforms so aggressively invested in our self-destruction.

divesting from these spaces means exploring other mediums of communication.the other day i grabbed a paper and pen to scribble a note for a friend, and found myself with a grotesque bit of relief: this paper wouldn’t be scanned for advertising opportunities. it was safe and purely personal. i knew who i was writing for: not some pseudo-random algo-mixture of 500 acquaintances, but exactly one person.

so.

if you would like to receive a real-live handwritten paper letter, stamped and sent via the USPS, send me your address. i will write about whatever i can think of and maybe you’ll feel inspired to write back, or maybe not. i don’t mind.

if you would like to send me a letter, i am happy to give you my address. i will promise to write you back.

if you’re thinking “that sounds neat but i don’t really know this guy so that would be weird”, that’s okay. give it a shot! what else you gonna do in quarantine?

another check-in

Time for another covid check-in.

Daily case rates are spiking, and not just in the US. Today, the EU surpassed our daily new case rate. At the current rate of increase, active caseloads both here and abroad will have exceeded all previous records. We’re in for a hard winter. (https://www.nytimes.com/…/coronavirus-cases-us-surge.html)

THE BAD NEWS: we have a long road ahead of us.

– Reinfection is possible, although seemingly unlikely. We know there is some immunity, but reinfection has been documented among individuals with healthy immune systems. There’s still little information on how long post infection immunity/resistance may last. ANTIBODIES ARE NOT A VACCINE.

– There are consistent reports of lasting side-effects – most commonly mental confusion and physical fatigue. There appear to be significant increases in the risk of stroke or other heart disease during and after infection. (https://www.sciencemag.org/…/brain-fog-heart-damage…)

– The CDC and WHO both appear to be suffering from heavy political influence, which makes it less likely that we’re going to get a coordinated governmental response and makes it harder to find trustworthy data. (https://www.propublica.org/art…/inside-the-fall-of-the-cdc)

– Vaccines are coming, but as of right now it looks like they will be expensive and limited in quantity. There are insane logistical challenges to distributing these. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byW1GExQB84)

THE GOOD NEWS: we are not powerless.

– Masks work. They work so good. There are so many case studies where every unmasked person in a room was infected, while the masked people were not. Wear a mask. (https://www.bloomberg.com/…/this-starbucks-in-south…)

– Outdoors is safe. Period. The only caveat here is AIRFLOW – if fresh air can’t easily move through the space, then it’s less safe and you better wear a mask.

– There are 2 ways to make indoors safer: open windows and air filtration. Open windows are hard to do in the winter, but for short visits or higher risk scenarios, it’s an option. Common air filters are cheap and effective. (https://www.theatlantic.com/…/why-arent-we…/614737)

– There’s a magic number for time spent indoors: 15 minutes. There are few known superspreader events associated with sub-15 minutes spent indoors. By adding masks, distancing, air filters or open windows, and low exertion, then significantly more time can be safely spent indoors. (https://www.npr.org/…/coronavirus-faq-whats-the-deal…)

– Surfaces aren’t the main concern. Keep washing your hands of course, but you don’t need to be sanitizing every five minutes. (https://www.theatlantic.com/…/scourge-hygiene…/614599/)

– Kids seem to be mostly unaffected and aren’t superspreaders. This is especially true for K-6. The main concern is protecting staff. (https://www.theatlantic.com/…/schools-arent…/616669/)

– Fatality rates are dropping and hospital stays are shortening. Generally speaking, doctors know how to treat this.

Get your flu shot, please.

slacktivism

Even if you’re not an activist, there are many ways you can be subtly supportive on social media.

You can make space for the conversation by posting less. Many people will only see a handful of posts each day – what will those be? Will your post be helpful or informative? Will it draw attention to those in need? Or will it be lifting yourself up? Be conscientious about how you consume space.

You can lift up other voices. The way the algorithm works is pretty simple: comments, likes, and shares all increase a post’s visibility, pushing it to the top of everyone’s feed. If you find good information or perspectives, help spread that message. Encourage the people creating and sharing helpful content. Be generous.

You can ignore toxic contributions. The best thing you can do when you encounter an awful take on social media is just to keep scrolling. Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram all track how long you look at individual posts – it’s one of their measurements of engagement. Don’t comment, don’t add an angry react – any response from you will increase that post’s visibility for all of that person’s followers. If you feel it’s important to respond, do it through DMs. Be cautious of how you spend your energy.

The movement is still going very strong, even if it’s not on the front page of the news. Minor victories have been achieved, but there’s so much farther to go. To succeed, we have to be thoughtful and strategic.

work-appropriate

I’d like to share something I wrote for work today, after the head of HR warned me that abolition is too politically charged to discuss in the workplace:

In the last two weeks, I have personally witnessed acts of extreme violence. I was just a few feet away when two NYPD cars drove into a crowd, running several people over. I watched as a line of police charged into a group of peaceful protesters, grabbing and beating protestors and bystanders alike as they fled. Many of my friends have been pepper sprayed, tear gassed, and arrested during legal, peaceful protests here in NYC, as well as other cities around the country. These are facts. This isn’t just something I saw on the news. I experienced it.

Part of why we’re seeing such widespread and prolonged protests is because millions around the country have also just had this experience for the first time. But the truth is that this kind of violence has been the constant experience of Black Americans for centuries. This is a fact, and it is the reality we’re seeking to change when we affirm that Black Lives Matter. It is deeply uncomfortable to face, and most certainly inconvenient for the workplace.

I recognize the importance of the workplace as a safe space. We’re here to work, and many people of all political persuasions see the workplace as a refuge amidst the instability of the world around us. It can be a place to focus on something less contentious than the deluge of anxiety and bad news we find elsewhere. But I don’t believe we can ignore this moment and maintain a clean conscience.

To disallow conversation about the movement that is currently sweeping across this country is to protect the status quo of overwhelming discrimination and segregation throughout our society. Yes, these are fraught and challenging conversations to have. I recognize that some members of our staff may have loved ones that are police officers who currently feel threatened by this movement and these ideas. But part of how we got here was our unwillingness to have these difficult exchanges – with family, friends, and yes – even coworkers.

Thank you for reading.

duped

Last night I got duped into a PR stunt for the NYPD.

It started with a large crowd of at least 3000, and we marched well into the night. The mood was positive and peaceful, but everyone was prepared for the worst from the NYPD. They’ve been brutalizing protesters, bystanders, and essential workers at night with impunity, and many of us fully expected to be arrested. We all know the curfew is just a blank check to let the NYPD to criminalize everyone.

As the crowd thinned out, a young Black man in a beret was leading the chants with his megaphone – he seemed to be the organizer. The usual shouts of “How do you spell racist // N-Y-P-D” were replaced with more generic messages about unity and peace, and then “N-Y-P-D // raise your first”. A police sergeant started walking along the side with us; I figured he was just keeping tabs on us. A full news crew materialized.

Around 11:00, the man in the beret informed us that the police would be “allowing us to disperse”. He’d made a deal that if we went home at 11:30, no one would be arrested. Again, unusual, but we were down to just a few hundred and we were tiring out. No need to force a confrontation, I guess.

He lead us through wall of riot police, who stepped aside to let us through. We stopped at an intersection and kneeled, surrounded by a hundred police in riot gear. He gave us a speech about ending racism and started to give out his Instagram handle before the crowd shouted him down. We were flanked by camera crews. They let us go, but I heard reports of some people being detained anyways.

When I got home, I started diving in. His social media didn’t show any evidence of political activism. He’s a model and influencer from Arizona, working for a PR agency specializing in “street teams”. He’s been interviewed by three major news networks in two days. There’s a post on his Instagram from yesterday asking if he can borrow a beret (now deleted). Other people on twitter dug up a public Facebook post where he’s defending Trump.

I’m sharing this story because it’s part of the learning process. I’m new to protesting, and as good as my intentions are, if I’m not careful I can end up contributing to the enemy. This was also the first of my four protests this week which had any “major” news coverage, on a day where there were literally hundreds throughout the city. Millions took to the streets this weekend.

Be critical. Be cautious. Pay attention to the organizers and their goals. As we switch into marathon mode after one hell of a sprint, we have to maintain focus and protect each other. We will defund and dismantle the NYPD.

moral debt

There’s a common misunderstanding about white supremacy, that it primarily describes the beliefs and goals of radical hate groups – people that are easily identified as racists. This focuses on the extremes, making it easy to compartmentalize the problem onto a few bad actors. This is a form of distancing that seeks to absolve individuals from responsibility.

The largest vectors of white supremacy are not neo-nazis: it is the institutions we engage with every day. There is a whiteness built into our technology, government, academia, business, and media that persists across generations. The law itself is encoded with white values. White culture propagates itself through the language and mannerisms we enforce in daily interactions. The ubiquity of this whiteness gives it that most powerful status: the default, the normal, the expected.

The police are, if nothing else, enforcers of the status quo. Their obscenities are an accurate reflection of American attitudes and priorities. We can micromanage the details of their job as much as we please – body cameras, bias training, civilian oversight – but they will remain a mirror of our institutions. Eliminating police brutality without addressing white supremacy is not possible.

When we talk about confronting systemic racism, we must understand that this doesn’t mean weeding out individual racists until we’re left with something wholesome, as though they are unexpected outliers. No, it is the system itself that perpetuates oppression, because that is the foundation of our country. We have created elaborate buffers that disguise this discrimination through mountains of bureaucracy and economic segregation. The benefits of privilege are now constant and invisible, encouraging many middle-class whites to believe white supremacy is not relevant to their daily life.

As a white person, I inherited a moral debt from my ancestors. I didn’t create these institutions, but I am nonetheless complicit. Understanding the existence of my privilege is not sufficient: I have a duty to pursue a better way of life for my community. It’s my job to aggressively expand my definition of community to include more than just those who look and sound like me. It’s my responsibility to become intimately acquainted with the struggles of others, so that I can dissolve my hegemonic assumptions about what is best for everyone.

crumbling

gotta get some bummer thoughts out.

i don’t know what i should be feeling. there’s relief that we got through the first wave, happiness for warm air and sunshine. but there were a lot of sirens yesterday and it’s hard not to feel paranoid about that. i don’t want to go back to hearing sirens every 20 minutes throughout the entire day. during the peak, it was non-stop, one after the other, day after day.

it’s a an odd thing, because normally you don’t notice the sirens in new york. but you never knew what they’re for – a heart attack, a bike accident – it could be anything. this time you knew exactly what all of those sirens meant. and every one of them stings.

there’s the constant frustration of not knowing what’s happening around the country. are daily cases increasing? deaths? hospitalizations? the dashboards i used to check daily are no longer accurate – our reporting infrastructure is broken, and some states are intentionally misreporting (if they’re even collecting the data). the US has no trustworthy authorities. the CDC has bungled basic guidelines too many times. it’s every state for themselves out there.

even the “established” sources of information feel woefully irrelevant now. it’s not that i doubt their facts, but their editorial strategy is just so ineffective. it’s brutal to read the NYT and Wapo as they flail impotently, whinging about Trump while clinging to this failed idea that journalism should be objective and impartial. to me, their entire brand is summed up by one of their senior editors proclaiming without the slightest hint of irony that he doesn’t vote because that would compromise his journalistic integrity.

i burned out on doing my own research, which involved digging through twitter to find quality takes from epidemiologists and statisticians and journalists watching other countries. it just takes so much work to find qualified experts with well-formed opinions on each new problem. once i hit the brick wall of “nobody seems to know if antibody tests are worth anything” i ran out of gas.

it’s no wonder that conspiracy theories are exploding right now. we don’t have a shared source of truth. it’s been decades since we had that, i guess, but now that illusion has faded, so people are inventing their own truths.

the intense daily sadness of early quarantine has faded. now, it’s just the throbbing ache of living in a crumbling country.

day 40

Been trying hard to keep it constructive on social media, but on day 40, I must vent.

Today, I am a bowl of cold noodles. I’m disintegrating into a gelatinous goo of frustration. I am one-tenth of a human being. I’ve been holding my breath for so long. Just keep holding. And holding. And holding. Because that’s all there is to do. There’s no choice in the matter.

Some days, I can see the silver linings. The possibilities for change. The ways this can push us to be better, to grow, to adapt. I take solace in knowing we’re all in this together. It’s cool to feel like we’re all on this same wavelength. That doesn’t happen very often, you know? It makes for a sense of oneness, even if it’s kinda dark.

I know that these are moods. That some days, I will wake up with a tendency to see one more than the other. There’s a good chance I’ll wake up tomorrow or the next day and feel a little better, for no particular reason.

Today, I’m missing the music more than ever. I miss being sweaty. I miss the stupidly loud sound systems, the sticky smell of the fog, the sweet taste of mate, the acidic sting of cigarette smoke. I miss looking across the dance floor, recognizing the silhouette of a good friend and feeling that little spark of excitement as we greet each other.

I miss browsing the events on FB and RA to try and pick out what I’d go to this weekend. I miss the “ooh” moment of skimming IG stories when I see a good flyer and looking up the event to RSVP. I miss waking up on Saturday and Sunday morning to review the posts and see how other parties turned out.

I miss leaving the dance floor at midnight to go outside and complain about all the normies, then sticking it out til 5am when things really get good. I miss rolling my eyes at the drunk bro who’s stepped on my feet three times in the last fifteen minutes. I miss making up an excuse to leave a boring conversation and I’d kill just to get overcharged for a bottle of warm water.

I’m tired of the sirens. I’m tired of thinking about the future and wondering what’s waiting for us there. I’m tired of shitty video calls with all their compression artifacts and lag and asking fifty times every day if you could please repeat that. I’m exhausted with our government – not just the white house, mind you – and I’m so unbelievably tired of being scared for the well-being of my friends.

Thanks for listening. This was cathartic to write.

P.S. If you need help with groceries or bills, please message me. I will help you, no questions asked.

tech privilege

Gainfully employed friends in tech: let us talk. Heart-to-heart.

You’re working from home full-time now. Maybe you were doing that from time to time anyways, so the quarantine hasn’t disrupted your work too much. You’re feeling the same perilous anxieties and mortal frustrations as everyone else, but when it’s all said and done: your job is safe and stable (for now). You’re still pulling in six figures. Your paycheck hasn’t changed.

You, my dear friend in tech – the programmer, the designer, the product manager – you are the beneficiary of some of the mightiest privilege on earth right now. You already had it pretty good, as far as jobs in America go. Paid time off, a dubious collection of “options”, health insurance, cute little vegan snacks in the office kitchen. Now, you don’t have to go outside to earn your living. You are among the least exposed people to the disease, and this change demanded nothing permanent from your way of life.

Your community needs your help. Whatever that community is, there are people in it that are struggling. They lost their jobs and they’ve only got enough savings to last through the next month or two. The government is not going to help. Those paltry $1200 checks? Fuck knows when they’ll arrive. The unemployment office is a shitshow; people are calling thousands of times a day and can’t get through. 17 million people are calling at the same time. America has no safety net.

You need to be giving. You need to be giving generously and repeatedly. A few bucks here and there is not going to cut it. People need to fucking eat. Think about how much it costs to eat for a day and multiply that by 30. Find the people and the causes you care about and make their fucking day.

checking in, again

Time for another check-in.

First up: we need to accept that this is not going to be over in a month. Unless we develop an affordable, effective, mass-producible vaccine within the next 6 months, it’s going to run its course through the entire globe. During that time, we’ll have to continue social distancing. We may get some relief during the summer as we enjoy sunlight and fresh air, but it’ll be waiting for us again in the fall and winter.

If you haven’t already, talk to your parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles – anyone in your life over the age of 50 must be distancing themselves – ideally self-quarantined. Make it clear that this is not something to be trifled with.

As the World Health Organization adviser Bruce Aylward clarified last week, a ‘mild’ case of COVID-19 is not equivalent to a mild cold. Expect it to be much worse: fever and coughing, sometimes pneumonia—anything short of requiring oxygen. ‘Severe’ cases require supplemental oxygen, sometimes via a breathing tube and a ventilator. ‘Critical’ cases involve ‘respiratory failure or multi-organ failure.’

James Hamblin at The Atlantic

We must adopt a collectivist mindset. It’s not about what you or I want, but what WE need. This is an opportunity for our country to grow. Overnight, millions are facing unemployment – in a matter of days and weeks, they will not be able to pay rent or buy food. How will we take care of them? GoFundMe and Patreon are not going to cut it this time. We have to take care of each other. No one left behind.

As the social scientist Arthur Frank reminds us in The Wounded Storyteller, the body in illness is not a ‘monad’—meaning a unit of one—although our entire health-care system is built on this notion: the individual hospital beds, the sense of isolation. Rather, it is inherently “dyadic,” because the body is never not in relation to others, especially in cases of contagious illness. The sick body is always in dialogue with the medical system, with spouses, and so on. Research showing that diabetic patients with empathetic doctors have better outcomes than those with brusque doctors, for example, highlights the material and corporeal reality of Frank’s point: The body is a social encounter, not just a vessel for our hyper-individualism.

Megan O’Rourke at The Atlantic

Look at how China, Korea, and Taiwan have handled this: mass mobilization. All hands on deck. Strong central planning. Can you imagine doing that here?

But change is afoot. Millions are working from home for the first time – potentially changing the workplace forever. Personally, I found remote work to be very empowering and returned a lot of control over my life away from my employers. This could be a huge power shift back to workers and communities.

There will be silver linings throughout this disaster. We have to find them and use this opportunity to make our country a place worth living. Look at what’s happening already: mandatory paid sick leave! The first bump to unemployment in years! Think of how much more we can do. Now is the time to strike.

Lastly: squash the conspiracy theories! So far I’ve already seen:
* The CIA engineered it to tank China’s economy (more popular a month ago, for obvious reasons)
* Democrats did it to win the election
* Trump did it to close the borders

I can’t wait to hear more. The truth is not hard to find: it came from a Chinese “wet” market where many types of wild animals are kept in extremely poor conditions. This video does a good job explaining this (as well as the origin of SARS) without xenophobia.

checking in

Time for a coronavirus check-in.

I don’t talk about work much, but my job is in health care. I build software that serves particularly frail elderly folks – in other words, the most vulnerable population in the coming pandemic. I am NOT an expert, but I do work with a variety of people whose job it is to stay informed. As this thing spreads, so will misinformation and confusion, and the best defense against panic is preparation. So I want to share the information I’ve seen so far.

This is happening. Over the course of this pandemic, somewhere between 40 and 70% of us will be infected. Many of us will not show symptoms, and many more will not experience any serious harm. It’s the ~10% who do experience major complications that we must be concerned for. That’s the elderly (or even middle-aged), folks with respiratory problems, immune-compromised, or anyone that’s already sick with another disease (see this).

What matters is the rate of infection. Yes, we’re all going to get it – but if those infections are spread out across months and years rather than days and weeks, far fewer people will die. Good personal hygiene (washing your hands, not touching your face, coughing into your elbow) isn’t just to protect yourself: it’s to protect others and slow the spread (see this).

Quarantine is the best protective measure. Current estimates suggest that the infectible area is within 6 feet: basically, if you’re sharing air (mask or otherwise), you’re at risk. Duration of exposure increases risk. Think about the cruise ships: most of those people never touched each other, but they all got infected together (see this).

Don’t buy masks. Sorry, but health care workers need them far, far more than you do. Production capacity is far below demand, and it’ll remain there for many weeks or months. Their main virtue for the general public is to stop you from touching your face anyways and there’s other ways to accomplish that.

Our health care system is going to be overloaded. It’s a treatable disease, but up to 10% of cases require a lengthy hospital stay. We’re going to run out of hospital beds and ventilators – optimistic estimates place this around late May. We’re going to run out of masks and other protective gear to keep health care workers from getting sick. When this happens, far more than just the infected will begin to suffer. (see this and this).

Nobody knows how bad this will get, but the prognosis is grim. The solution is not to panic, but it’s not to continue business as usual, either. We need to enthusiastically support strong, decisive responses: canceling events, closing schools, mandatory remote work, and self-quarantines. This means we need to be thinking about the members of our community that will suffer when people stay indoors. Anyone working paycheck-to-paycheck, whose jobs are in the service industry, whose businesses depend on putting lots of people in small rooms. They’re going to be hurting.

China got through the first wave by instituting some of the strictest quarantines modern society has ever seen (see this piece for a great perspective from Wuhan). But they – like Japan and South Korea – also already have a strong culture supporting this response.

We don’t have this on any level. Our health care system intentionally leaves many people without access to care. Our government doesn’t have the power to institute serious or swift reform. Our culture and habits around hygiene are under-developed. Half of our media is committed to framing this as a hoax because the president decided this, too, should be a political battleground, goddamn his miserable soul.

But it’s also an opportunity to grow as a society. It’s kind of inspiring, in a weird way, to see that we’re still capable of reacting to bad news, to see people take this problem seriously in a time of numbness amidst bad news. Our individualistic ways are going to cost us, in the coming months. Maybe we’ll learn some of the behaviors and values we need to tackle other societal challenges, like climate change. Who knows.

educating

i met a guy from saudi arabia the other night. he came up to me at the end because i was dancing my ass off and said i looked like someone who knew what this was all about. he was brand new to the dance scene and had all sorts of questions about how to find events, how to behave, and what the culture is about.

he struck me as someone that brought some problematic attitudes and behaviors into the space that night. he mentioned he didn’t tip the bartenders. he asked if he ought to bribe the bouncers because he didn’t bring any women with him. his impression of the scene was clearly built around the most toxic aspects of mainstream clubs and festivals.

so i spent the next hour explaining everything i could. i walked him through tipping culture – that you never, ever withhold tips just because someone wasn’t nice enough to you. that you don’t come to bossa (or any rave, for that matter) to be waited on – you’re there for the music and the company, not to be served. i explained that weekends can be rough for the staff because there’s so many tourists and visitors that don’t know the culture or the norms. that when people aren’t friendly, it’s not always about him.

he asked me if there was a lot of racism in the scene. he spent some time living in north carolina and told me about all the places that treated him poorly because he’s arab. he asked if he would ever be turned away or charged extra because of his ethnicity.

i said that yes, sometimes there is racism here. but he’d never be turned away from a party because of the color of his skin. at least, not the places i go.

i told him that the soul of techno and house is multicultural. that part of what we love and cherish about this scene is how many different kinds of people it draws in. that it’s something we celebrate and encourage as much as we can. this seemed to blow his goddamn mind.

i don’t always have the energy or patience to educate people. sometimes i go out and i just wish everyone knew the fucking rules and they’d stop causing problems. but other nights, i live for those opportunities to educate. to show people how to be.

rut

an unsorted thought dump.

there’ve been a lot more homeless folks near my office in the last month. i suppose it’s because it’s warm out now. the dystopia of it is impossible for the brain to resolve. you tune it out, because that’s the only choice. but sometimes the smell is overwhelming. or sometimes you’re face-to-face with someone’s bare ass cheeks as you walk up the stairs from the subway. how many times this week will i wonder if that person sprawled on the ground is asleep or dead? oops, better not be late for standup.

on the subway home today i was surrounded by six (6) people that were all scrolling through instagram. people don’t smile when they’re looking at social media. they don’t laugh or cry. it reminds of that trance-like zombie state i remember feeling when i watched tv as a kid. maybe they do feel things and they’re afraid to let it slip because it’s the subway. or maybe they’re just tired and trying to zone out for a minute because they had a hard day and they’ve earned it. i should post this thought for someone else to scroll through on their commute tomorrow morning.

whenever i see someone open spotify on their phone i want to ask them what they’re listening to. but i know that would be grossly uncouth. it is federal law not to speak to anyone with headphones in. still, i wish we had norms for sharing and openness.

things can change, things will change. but damn if it isn’t hard to see how that’s gonna happen from our current vantage point. it feels like the whole world’s in a rut, and we’re all just waiting for climate change to stir the pot a little harder.

joe biden fucking sucks.

withholding

Recently I concluded that I’ve always been kinda withholding on social media. I’d never comment or respond to people, I wouldn’t like anything my friends were posting, I’d never share my friend’s cool stuff or really ever go out of my way to be supportive. And then I’d feel hurt when other people wouldn’t show me support for the stuff I’m working on.

I blamed it on a lot of things. I told myself I had high standards. I saw all these problematic trends that I didn’t want to participate in – the narcissism built into all of these interactions, the unrealistic fantasy lives everyone portrays. I wanted discussion and learning and hard conversations, but nothing here is built for that. So I tried to keep it all at arms-length.

But gradually, I’ve just stopped caring about any of that. This is what we have right now. It’s not going to become better by keeping a stick up my ass.

So you know what? Fuck it. You deserve that silly little dopamine rush we all get from the red badge that says you’ve earned the approval of your peers.

Your ten thousand cat photos? Carry on with vigor. That’s a cute goddamn cat alright.

Hey, the artwork you posted today maybe wasn’t your best work, but damnit you tried and you’re actively creating. Godspeed, my friend.

Uh…another selfie? I mean, damn that’s like the tenth one this week but you look happy and that new hat is, in fact, pretty fly.

All that’s to say – I think we should be generous with our affection. Remember how nice it feels when other people give you their approval, and pay it forward. These digital hearts and thumbs might be nonsensical to the extreme, but they’re all we’ve got.

part of the problem

I’ve been very lucky to know a lot of women who never hesitated to call me on my sexist bullshit.

I remember, many years ago now, when an ex called me crying because a total stranger had slapped her ass and I shit you not the first thing I asked was what she was wearing. Thank god, she did not stand for it one bit.

That conversation was the beginning of a long process of change. It sucked to realize that I had all this toxic nonsense lurking in my mind, that I’d hurt someone I loved with thoughtless sexist garbage. But meaningful change and growth aren’t usually as fun as people make them out to be.

So, here’s a big thank you to all the strong ladies in my life who took the time to tell me when I was wrong.