Category Archives: Cities

We Got Served

I’ve been wanting to write about Occupy Wall Street (OWS) for a long time. First I wanted to do enough research that I wouldn’t end up writing something totally ignorant. But so many factors got us to the point of nationwide protests that there’s no way I could understand all of it. Despite my best efforts, this post may still be ignorant, but I promise you it’s not based on false assumptions.

I must first express my supreme disappointment that the occupation of Wall Street was not some spontaneous assembly of outraged Americans, but a gathering spurred by the Estonian-Canadian Kalle Lasn, editor of the subversive bi-monthly Adbusters, using this image:

This is what I meant in my last post about the power of visual art. This image is impossible to ignore. This, and a tactical email sent to Adbusters subscribers on July 13, got 1,000 people to Wall Street on Sept. 17. No essay, no matter how well-reasoned, could do that.

After a few weeks of reading and watching, I think I know why OWS hasn’t come out with any official demands, despite politicians’ demands that they come up with some. One, obviously, is the movement’s philosophical opposition to vertical organization, which disqualifies anyone from speaking for everyone. But also, there simply isn’t a way to communicate the political situation in America that would carry more weight than the unadorned truth. The facts about who holds power in our country – in practice, not theory ­– and how they use it is so outrageous that attempts to write or speak about it almost always dilute the message in needless words.

Without further ado, here is my dilution.

When OWS began, my first thought was that much of the rage seemed misdirected. Wall Street, I thought, should not be held responsible for the crash; its members were operating rationally within a system set up legally by the government.

The sheer greed that brought down the economy is off-putting, sure, but greed is a normal sentiment and I can forgive it. I can’t, however, forgive the creation of a system that rewards the greed of bankers, of investment managers, of credit raters, and of the politicians themselves. That the people we elected to represent us, whom we were supposed to be able to trust, built such a self-serving system is an injustice that should have us all in the streets.

The people who allowed this system to take form should be the targets of our rage.

The New York occupation of Zuccotti Park lasted two months before Mayor Bloomberg shut it down, stating that the situation at the park had become “intolerable” with respect to sanitation and safety. In response to the protesters who invoked their constitutional rights to assemble and protest, Bloomberg said, “The First Amendment protects speech. It does not protect the use of tents and sleeping bags to take over a public space.”

So. What we have is a First Amendment that does NOT protect the use of makeshift shelters to take over a public space, but DOES protect the use of money to make a democracy into a plutocracy. (Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission, holla!)

Who acts within the law can be objectively determined. But who acts within the bounds of moral righteousness is a tougher topic to tackle. At UC-Davis last Friday, police were filmed pepper-spraying a group of students who were seated on the cement. I can imagine how it escalated: the students were protesting, the police told them to leave, the students sat down in further protest, the police warned them that if they didn’t leave that force would be used, and when the students didn’t move, the police used force.

Within a legal framework, the police were right and the protesters were wrong. But what about a moral one? When enough politicians are so hypocritical that they have discredited the entire representative-democratic system, and we aren’t allowed to physically demonstrate our dissatisfaction with the outcome, what is the next option? How can we legally achieve justice when these are our laws?

The movement may be called Occupy Wall Street, but it’s not all about Wall Street. The blame, like the risk, needs to be distributed much wider. Here are some entities that have proved themselves either worthless, incompetent, or corrupt:

Presidents: President Richard Nixon, for removing the gold standard; President Ronald Reagan, for glorifying deregulation and appointing people to carry out the deregulatory agenda; President Bill Clinton, for approving the Financial Services Modernization Act (which allows companies to become too big to fail) and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act (which deregulated complex newfangled financial instruments); President Barack Obama, for not demanding criminal prosecution of the leaders of the firms that were committing obvious securities fraud, and for not making Elizabeth Warren head of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

Congress: for being so easily seduced by lobbyists; for acting as if what they owe to constituents is proportional to the amount of money they donate.

The Federal Reserve: for a lot of things, but particularly for unnecessarily giving AIG’s counterparties 100 cents on the dollar in the bailout of AIG. (Auto companies, mainly GM, were bailed out as well, but for much less than 100 percent of their debts, and with conditions about overhauling management and business practices.)

Many Americans: for borrowing too much money. No explanation needed.

Banks: Investment banks, for reasons I won’t get into but which you can learn all about from a number of sources, some of which I will list at the end of this. But also regular consumer banks, for allowing people to lie about their credit on loan applications just so they could get another application on the books.

Credit rating agencies (Standard & Poor’s, Fitch, Moody’s): Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac still had AAA ratings within days of their takeover by the government; AIG, Lehman Brothers, and Bear Stearns were still rated AA within days of their collapse. These firms were literally out of cash long before then. But in the meantime, the credit rating agencies had taken away the very meaning of a AAA rating by issuing AAAs in excess (a 60% increase between 2000 and 2006); and by deliberately issuing fraudulent ratings, often in response to financial incentives. The ratings agencies took in profits as if they did something important and then, when confronted about their job performance, acted like they were dispensable. “[Credit ratings] do not speak to the market value of a security, the volatility of its price, or its suitability as an investment,” said Deven Sharma of Standard & Poor’s in a congressional hearing. So what did they give the world in exchange for all that money? Short-term profits for a few people, and long-term losses for the whole country. In short, socialized debt. Thanks, guys.

Securities & Exchange Commission: for not doing its job, which is to make sure that publicly traded companies act transparently.

A person goes to jail if he robs a bank. But he’s free and clear if he robs people in a way that can’t be easily explained, and is barely understood, and is done collectively, and is technically legal. He might even be allowed to resign with a 161-million-dollar severance package in tow. That happened. And that’s one of hundreds of small facts that, when taken together, make the protesters’ case for them. We hold these truths to be self-evident: that our government and body of law do not protect us like they used to. For some 30 years big businesses created Congresses to create legislation to create a country where money is power (just ask the CEOs and lobbyists) and power is money (just ask Congress). And the situation has grown intolerable. Just ask the 99 percent.

Learn more:
The Real AIG Scandal
by Eliot Spitzer
Inside Job by Charles Ferguson
Goldman Sachs..100 Cents on the Dollar by Shahien Nasiripour
The Woman Who Knew Too Much by Suzanna Andrews
Moody’s Analyst Breaks Silence by Henry Blodget
The SEC’s Next Challenge: Fixing the Ratings Agencies by Barbara Kiviat
American Theocracy by Kevin Phillips
Congress: Trading stock on inside information? by Steve Kroft
Mortgage Mess CEOs Defend Pay by David Ellis
Bank Lobby Plans Attack on Occupy Movement by Ben Johnson

Meanwhile, at the Back of the Bus

Saturday night on the bus around 10:30 p.m., I had the misfortune of sitting near a rather belligerent man. He was around 30 years old and dressed in a nice button-up shirt, distressed jeans, and those weird leather shoes that turn up at the toes.

I was also sitting near another man, probably around 30 as well. He was playing one of the new Lil Wayne songs out of his phone. The sound wasn’t pleasant, but the bus was conducting its typical symphony of cell phone conversations, coughing, swearing, other muffled music, engine roars and obnoxious laughter anyway. No one boards a Chicago bus for the ambiance. I, for one, just wanted a safe and inexpensive ride home.

But the well-dressed guy (whom I’ll call Lance) had different expectations. He turned to the guy with the phone (whom I’ll call Chris), and this conversation ensued:

LANCE: Do you have headphones for that?
CHRIS: No.
LANCE: Then could you kindly turn it off?
CHRIS: Why?
LANCE: Because I asked you kindly.
(Chris ignores the request.)
LANCE: All right, man. This is why I’m where I’m at, and you’re where you’re at.
(Chris ignores the statement.)
LANCE: Can you at least play some good music? Do you even know what good music is, with your walnut brain?
(Chris ignores the request.)
LANCE: This is why I’m where I’m at, and you’re where you’re at. Just know that.
(Lance fingers his expensive-looking watch.)

At this point I expected things to escalate, but they didn’t. Lance got off the bus a few minutes later to transfer to the blue line, which I’m guessing he took to some club in the West Loop where he macked on some honeys dumb enough to think he was anything resembling a good man.

With Lance gone, I felt the urge to talk to Chris, to tell him what a tool that guy was and that I was sorry about what had transpired. A comment like that could ruin a person’s night, and if I had to choose what to listen to, I’d take Lil Wayne over an ignorant verbal assault any night. But I decided against it, grateful for the luxury to remain an innocent bystander. I regret not speaking up.

At this point you may or may not have inferred that Lance is white and Chris is black. The “walnut brain” comment was repulsive, obviously, but Lance’s insistence that “this is why I’m where I’m at and you’re where you’re at” was almost more than I could bear.

Because “this” – Chris’ penchant for imposing his music on other people – is not why he is “where he is.” Far from it. Lance’s assumption that he and Chris are in two different places is an incredibly racist inference because in immediate reality, which is all we can see, they’re in the same place: a god-damned bus.

Collective Bargaining: The New (American) Human Right

Addendum: I’m not an expert on labor issues, so I encourage everyone to check out the New York TimesRoom for Debate opinion round-up. (The best piece, I think, is Daniel DiSalvo’s.)

Everyone loves a protest.

Scott Walker, who began his first term as Wisconsin governor last month, wasn’t really on my radar until last night, when I noticed a trend on Facebook. Friends of mine from Wisconsin had posted ominous-sounding status updates, one referring to Gov. Walker as an “a—hole”; another asking, “What is this, Russia?”

Then I read that Madison public schools would be closed today due to the number of teachers who had called in sick to attend protests at the Capitol. Some even invited their students to join.

As someone who normally takes some pleasure in watching the Republican Party destroy itself, I was dying to know what terrible thing Walker had done to inspire such rancor. After reading a few articles on Madison.com, I came away disappointed not in Walker, but in the arguments against him.

Walker’s highly controversial move was to propose a bill that would increase the amount public workers must contribute to their pensions and health care premiums and eliminate public union’s collective bargaining rights on the subject of benefits. (Unions would still be able to negotiate wages – at least as it stands now.)

When I first graduated from college, more than one person advised me to work for the government to take advantage of the benefits and job security. They were only half joking.

When a private business needs to get out of the red, it must cut costs, raise profits, or go out of business. The public sector has been sheltered from this reality for way too long.

Said Walker:

“We are broke in this state. We’ve been broke for years. People have ignored that for years, and it’s about time somebody stood up and told the truth. The truth is we don’t have money to offer. We don’t have finances to offer…and if you’re going to negotiate you’ve got to have something to offer. We don’t.”

Anyone who calls Walker (or Obama, for that matter) a dictator or a tyrant should be locked up for abusing the English language. Irony intended.

Government austerity is not tyranny. Claiming it is only insults the millions of people worldwide who have actually suffered under that kind of rule.

An unidentified Democratic leader was quoted in a Wisconsin State Journal article calling the Walker proposal “an assault on workers in the state.”

This is so laughable. If making state workers contribute more to their pensions (some for the first time) qualifies as assault, then I’d like to know what word could possibly describe the insurmountable debt that so quickly became my generation’s birthright.

Here’s some more footage of boomers being mad that they might have to pay for stuff and high schoolers being happy that they get the day off. They’ll have tomorrow off, too.

This is a Short Commute For Someone With So Much to Think About

This morning, one story above the ground, my train toward the Loop comes to a complete stop between stops. This happens from time to time, and it’s always accompanied by the same recording: “Your attention, please. We are stopped momentarily waiting for signal clearance. We expect to be moving shortly.” Sometimes it plays twice, depending on how long we have to wait. And then we all wait, and before long we’re moving again.

But this time we’re suspended – in space, and therefore in time – over Canal Street and no voice comes on to tell us why. The ten or so other commuters and I are too tired or too clueless to say anything, even though we’re all thinking the same thing: What’s the holdup? Come to think of it, the fact that we all have the same thought is probably why none of us says anything. There is literally nothing to communicate.

All I can hear besides breathing is some guy’s iPod. We relish the silence because once the train starts moving, it’s all over until we’re home for the night. I get to thinking about how weird it would be if there was an actual situation that was keeping us there, like maybe a bomb. For a second I can hear what it would sound like – I’ve heard my share of recorded and staged explosions – though I can’t feel what it would feel like, thank god. The train lurches forward unceremoniously, and within five minutes I’m stepping off.

I didn’t recognize the woman in the driver’s seat this morning. I think she might be new, which explains why she didn’t play the recording.

I am new at my job too. I started working full-time December 6, which is why I haven’t written anything of substance since then. It’s sad because I liked writing and being read but apparently all it took was a little bit of money and a lot less time to stop me in my tracks.

I work on the 24th floor of a big building on the Chicago River. The company I work for just took the space after an investment firm, with the Securities and Exchange Commission hot on its trail, vacated in October on very short notice. The office is slightly more extravagant than any place I ever expected to work. In the conference room table that seats 16 and a plaque on the wall bearing the words to John D. Rockefeller, Jr.’s speech “I Believe.” If you don’t know the words, here they are:

I believe in the supreme worth of the individual and in his right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

I believe that every right implies a responsibility; every opportunity, an obligation; every possession, a duty.

I believe that the law was made for man and not man for the law; that government is the servant of the people and not their master.

I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity to make a living.

I believe that thrift is essential to well ordered living and that economy is a prime requisite of a sound financial structure, whether in government, business or personal affairs.

I believe that truth and justice are fundamental to an enduring social order.

I believe in the sacredness of a promise, that a man’s word should be as good as his bond; that character — not wealth or power or position — is of supreme worth.

I believe that the rendering of useful service is the common duty of mankind and that only in the purifying fire of sacrifice is the dross of selfishness consumed and the greatness of the human soul set free.

I believe in an all-wise and all-loving God, named by whatever name, and that the individual’s highest fulfillment, greatest happiness, and widest usefulness are to be found in living in harmony with His will.

I believe that love is the greatest thing in the world; that it alone can overcome hate; that right can and will triumph over might.

The irony of that plaque and the fate of the firm is not lost on me. It basically illustrates a human tendency that Faulkner alludes to in As I Lay Dying, which I read (and only somewhat grasped) in 11th grade:

“He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn’t need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear.”

It think most writers, like Faulkner, struggle pretty hard with and against the ambiguity of language. By “ambiguity” I mean more than just the fact that every word means something slightly different to everyone. Language is ambiguous in its overall purpose, too. I put so much emphasis on it (trying not to abuse it, chastising other people when they do) because I believe it’s a powerful force. At the same time, I have this sinking feeling that a great deal of what I and everyone else says, writes, and puts on plaques are just a bunch of shapes to fill our lacks.

I Woke Up Today

My disdain for Midwest winters was one of the forces that drove me to spend my college years elsewhere.

But there’s something magnificent about waking up in a room that’s glowing because on the other side of the blinds everything is covered in white. Whether it’s the light of some God filling my room or just that Chicago had overnight received its first real snow of the season and the sun was beaming down on it is irrelevant. I really don’t believe there’s a difference.

It’s been five years since I last had this experience. In the years between then and now I was always in Oregon until mid-December, and my introduction to the Midwest winter was in the form of a plane landing, followed by a drive home in aging gray snow.

I’m staring out the window now at my neighbor’s backyard. The wife opens the door and the family dog comes bounding out. The wife follows, wrapped up in a long wool coat, boots and scarf. Her hair is all over the place, and she’s wearing glasses, which I’ve never seen her wear. It’s Saturday.

The dog is running in circles around the kids’ swing set. The woman cautiously descends the steps of the porch to get to his level. She tries to approach the dog; he keeps running. Now she’s chasing him around the swing set. She can’t stop smiling. She’s 40.

In the end the perfect plane of the snow is destroyed, but she’s visibly more alive, so it’s a worthy exchange.

But this is the kind of thing I hadn’t seen in five years. Actually, I never saw it period until after my time away.