bm289 25C3 Preview and Update

This edition is simply an update about what is going on with me and the program. It is also a preview of the big event that is beginning in a few hours, the 25C3 in Berlin. I will be attending as well as speaking on the topic of GMO Soy. In this podcast I browse the schedule and point to society related topics I’ll be looking into and doing interviews related while at the congress.

events.ccc.de

Music:

  • Erika Badu – Me
  • Zeca Afonso – Os Vampiros
  • Chad van Gaalen – City of Electric Light

My Inspiration Forever

When I was a child, he would come over to the US and take family vacations with us.

I would listen to his stories of so many adventures he had just returned from.

He spoke so many languages and had this encyclopedic knowledge of the world.

I think even then as a child, I looked at him and listened to him; I wanted to be like him.

As a teenager I would spend parts of my summer with him in Lisbon, thrilled at the chance to go to work with him.

He had this way of plucking books and artifacts off his shelves, to show me some evidence of some historical occurrence. In the middle of a conversation he would start searching some stack of books or in some drawer for something magical that illustrates a point.

As a young adult and a student, I lived in his place in Lisbon. Spending wonderful days and nights, surrounded by his books and his things. Thrilled to be carrying on the tradition, and comparing notes any chance we would get, about what was going on in the city we both loved.

It should come as no surprise that years later I would plant myself in Amsterdam, with him only three hours away in Brussels.? Again whenever I felt alone in my adventures, I took solace in the fact that I had him nearby, always ready with advice or a warm home (and a loving family) for me to visit.

He followed my every move on the internet, the audio, the video… it was all filed away in his computer. Knowing this gave me a sign that I was doing something special, that the person whom I’ve look up to all my life, understood and enjoyed my dedication and purpose.

There was never a time that I wasn’t learning from him, about the world around us, about how we got to where we are, and even now… about life.

It is inadequate to write only one post and only these few lines about someone I love so much and will always love.? But when it comes to him, someone who has so much to do with who I am and so much of the joy I’ve had in this life, it is impossible not to tell the stories and shout it from the mountaintops- for all the world to hear.

My dearest cousin, you will always be my inspiration and guide as I make my way through this world. But of course, I know you knew that…

Zoomin’ Around Phnom Penh

Beep Beep Beep Beep…. no streetlight so my motorcycle driver just noses his way into the intersection in the exact style of every other scooter, SUV, tuk-tuk, rickshaw, and bull-pulled-wagon. I’ve got one hand on my pocket making sure my camera doesn’t come loose, and the other on Mr. Lee’s back, we’re both sweating like crazy in the midday Cambodian sun.

Me: Whats that plume of black smoke coming out of that house Mr. Lee?

Mr. Lee: Oh that house with the smoke, thats, Crematory.. how do you say.. our dead people..

Me: Oh. Crematorium. They’re very busy today.

We zoom past the national museum, where earlier he had brought me to see the many Buddhist statues, I never saw so many arms in my life. To our right are a series of open garages or perhaps storefronts, each spilling out into the street with artwork. They looked like oil paintings.

Mr. Lee: How many languages you speak Mr Mark?

Me: 5. But they are all European. Nothing fun like Thai or Khmer.

Mr. Lee: Wow. I can only do English, Thai, Khmer. Maybe I learn another one.. like Portuguese haha!

I pop out of my evening snack at Friends, the café run by street kids who are taught how to be professional restauranteurs.  Some of the finest service I’ve ever known.  Mr. Lee is laying back on the saddle of the motorbike, hat tipped over his eyes, the motorcycle guy’s nap pose.

Me: Why do you work as a motorcycle driver?

Mr Lee: I used to have airport job. Everyday had to work, always in the office. No freedom. With motorcycle, I’m free, I can go where I want.  But yes.. money is bad.

Me: Freedom, yes, freedom from a job, I look for the same thing.

He drops me off at the lovely guest house I’m staying at.  Doesn’t say a word about money, it is very obviously up to me what I should pay.  I hand over some american dollar bills and he gives me a smile.  Tomorrow, I take you to Killing Fields. Indeed it is what most tourists do in Phnom Penh and it is certainly what I’ve been looking foward to, if one can look foward to walking on the dead.  Mr Lee tells me he’s off to have some beers with his uncle. Make nice dreams, he tells me.

Quality Media from India

There are few projects on the internet, that make me stand up and say — see.. this is what videoblogging is for! And while I’ve mentioned this particular one before, as I watched their latest video I was once again reminded of how great they are.

The project is called Swajana, a videoblog which started around the time of Jay and Ryanne’s visit to India. It is about people in India. More specifically, people and their jobs. What they do, why they do it, how much they make, how they manage their lives, their hopes for the future, their hopes for their children, their concerns in general. It is a fantastic collection of snapshots, video capsules of life in cities like Pune, India.

Watching the tailor and the tailor’s wife and the tailor’s son, I’m reminded of what life is like outside of this first world disneyland known as Amsterdam. I love living here, but the standard of living is so high, It makes me need to have reality checks, reminders, of how a majority of the world lives. That means poverty. That means jobs that many of us would not do. That means struggling for the bare essentials. While I often say I struggle, my struggle is nothing in comparison. And in my humble opinion, this is the true power, the true significance of what videoblogging and personal publishing could be used for when it comes to global understanding, reporting about reality, and learning from each other. So on this fine friday, I recommend you re-check out and subscribe to Swajana.

Dishwasher Wisdom

Dishwasher Pete is a friend of mine. Like me, he’s an American who moved to Amsterdam. Like me, he’s also a European of another country living here in Amsterdam. And that is only the beginning of what he and I have in common.

Pete had gotten in touch a few days ago about getting help posting a video from when he was on Letterman. See Pete’s book has just come out, and the buzz coming from both sides of the atlantic is that DISHWASHER is a smash-hit. I’m two chapters in and honestly, I already knew the thing would be good because only inspiring things can come from the mind of such an excellent person.

As I was sorting out the video issues with him, he asked that classic question, “So hows it going.. are you able to live off your website?”…. I’m sure I’m misquoting him, but I know the question well.. as Im lucky enough to have concerned friends everywhere.

But the great part was his answer to my answer. I told him, “At this point, no… no I can’t. But I don’t care, this is what I want to do.” (something to that effect) Pete responds very quickly and calmly with his great brand of wisdom — “Just keep going. Keep doing what you’re doing. Corporations and media groups can’t make the type of connections with an audience that you’re making. Keep going… you’re building something very special…” (again I’m misquoting, but I remember the good parts)

Then I remembered, just as he reminded me… before the whole book thing.. Dishwasher Pete had a zine and a dream. He published a zine and traveled from state to state, washing dishes. He had amazing experiences, and saw the entire US is ways that the average person will never get to. And throughout that experience… plenty of people cast doubt on him… but he kept doing what he was doing.

I digress, Pete is not my idol (though maybe he should be!). But it was his way of reminding me and assessing my goals… one of those moments that reminds me of how far Ive come, and where I’m going.

Breakdown, Northern France

Well. I could make this stuff up… but the fact is.. this shit just happens.

As previously mentioned, I met up with the hitchhike ride from Amsterdam to PAris. Cool people, old ride. Like old classic Mercedes minibus ride. I noticed everytime she shifted gears I could see the pavement beneath us. That and I couldnt hear much besides the engine the whole ride.

About 5 hours had passed, and we were enjoying the scenery; their dislike for highways meant that we took as many country roads as possible. Which was slightly odd since the bus was would crawl up those hills of northern france, but no matter… more time to enjoy the scenery.

That is, until, KERPLUNK.

SOMETHING FELL. NO SOMETHING HIT US. NO WE RAN OVER SOMETHING? Quick pull over.
She starts looking over the engine, and I notice she knows that engine like the back of her hand. In a matter of seconds her hands are completely black from the oily engine grime. Her husband scours the two-lane country road.. retracing our very slow steps. EUREKA. ITs a waterpump, and its laying on the side of road. Apparently minus waterpump, engine overheats.

Enter local parts and wood salesman. He lives across the street. Comes out and examines the engine, carrying with him a jar of a zillion spare screws. I stand around useless, trying not to look useless.. thinking of how likely the chance is that we’re stuck. They seem to notice my thoughts and start asking the guy how they can get me to paris. A station.. a train.. one town over… you can make it before the engine overheats… only problem is.. lots of hills. We didnt even make it passed the first hill.

Suddenly she runs to the side of the road and sticks out her thumb. Im dumbfounded.. figure shes hoping to get advice or a mechanic. Instead, when someone finally stops.. she starts yelling for me to get my stuff cause Ive got a ride. Boom.. I thank them quickly and step into the warm car. Kid and wife in the back, nice guy driving Callypso music blasting… I was completely dazed. Just said many thank you’s and mentioned that I had no idea where I was. They were also confused — “Will your friends be ok, stranded back there?” I hope so, I said.. at least.. they have a whole living space in that bus and tons of food.

Another hour goes by and Im wondering where theyre leaving me. Wonder no more, Im dropped off at the beggining of whatever metro… a thousand thank you’s and a big smile… poof.. Im half asleep on the metro and eventually.. at ze local café with Max and Stacy.

So it goes sometimes.. if you’re me. You hitchhike via internet.. it breaks down.. you hitchhike the old way. So it goes.