Everyone’s favourite guerilla political artists are back. Their latest hijink involves distributing fake versions of the New York Post. You can tell they’re fake, because everything inside is factually accurate and scientifically informed. But don’t take it from me – take it, at 1:11 in – from a representative of the New York Post.
When it comes to broadcast media, nothing beats radio. It’s fast, cheap, out of control, and the medium through which I’ve learned more about the world than any other.
So here’s a post about radio. First, a rant. If there’s a hell, the creators of the Chevron radio adverts (which sound like this) will one day finds themselves there, listening to their wretched creation on loop, in perpetuity. From the very first pensive piano note, everything about the ad spits disingenuity, deceit and greenwash. There hasn’t been an occasion where I’ve heard the opening notes and not changed the station. The net effect is to make me want to give money to these people, who have a much firmer grasp of Chevron’s environmental commitments.
One of the things I’ve been up to recently is this piece, written with my co-authors of Food Rebellions. It’s a look at the rise of philanthropy capitalism, and some worrying attempts to ‘fix’ Africa. You can read it all at The Nation, but there’s a less elegantly formatted version below the fold.
Normal service will soon resume here at Stuffed and Starved. After six months of intensive writing, I’ve just handed in the manuscript for my next book, which’ll hit book stores later this year, entitled “The Value of Nothing”. I’ll be sharing a little more about that in the future, so watch this space.
Over the next couple of months, you’ll be seeing some changes here at Stuffed and Starved. I’m going to be writing not only about food but about other stuff too, as I once used to at my old blog Class Worrier, where my tastes ran from science fiction movies to an occasional series entitled “We’re All Going to Die” to, yes, food.
The French philosopher Michel Foucault is often quoted as saying “My point is not that everything is bad, but that everything is dangerous, which is not exactly the same as bad.” His critics accused him of ethical paralysis, where nothing could be done, for fear of danger. Foucault’s response was this: “everything is not equally dangerous.”
I finally got to see The Anthropologists’ Give Us Bread on Thursday. On paper, a project to write a play about the 1917 food riots in New York City has the potential to become painfully earnest and preachy. It would almost certainly end up that way if I were to try my hand at playwriting, and it’s best for everyone that I don’t start.