Next to my bed is a pile of books of all kinds. You'd think that since I write on politics, the stacks would be dominated by political titles. No so. There are a few - Technofeudalism by Yanis Varoufakis, Capital by Thomas Picketty, and The Authoritarian Dynamic. There's some history and biography, some titles that you'd expect like histories of the public relations industry and on political repression in the US, Mike Royko's Boss, and Isabel Wilkerson's The Warmth of Other Suns, as well as volumes on Reno's dude ranches for divorcees of the early/mid 1900s and the criminal prosecution of animals.
And then there's everything else: a lot of old books on travel and exploration, some pulps (especially Richard Stark and Simenon), and a bible. There's lit by Édouard Louis, William Burroughs, Orwell, etc. Lastly, books on music (John Jacob Niles, Pigmeat Markham, Hawaiian music, SST Records, bubblegum, Barry Adamson).
I've read some. I'm reading some. I poke around in some. Some are for reference and some I am convinced I'm going to read "soon." The stacks aren't fixed. Every couple of months, I sort out what I’ve read and get real about what I am going to read. I purge and the stacks shrink.
My book pile is both varied and dynamic, as are my interests. It’s one of the things that churns my thinking and, hopefully, keeps it interesting and fresh. I’d like to think my book pile is a partial reflection of my life, which is, to me, varied and dynamic, and interesting and fresh.
Note “one of the things” and “partial” in the paragraph above and know that books are only a part of my life. There’s writing, of course, and music and records. There’s doing politics, which has its own corner, surrounded by a lot of doing not-politics. The not-politics is mostly pretty simple but fundamental things: walking, driving, eating, talking, observing, lots of observing. My wife Susan and dog Harry are ever present, as are thoughts about by brother Tim. I’ve got my friends and collaborators. They say you find substance in family and friends, but I get mine through all of the above, some more impactful than others, but all important, especially when balanced.
When one thing starts to dominate my life, my life starts to lose balance and stuff gets stressful, more stressful than normal daily life. That is especially true when politics starts to become my main focus. If, after writing a political piece, I spend the rest of the day screwing with politics, I get cross and grumpy. It takes a couple hours to decompress and for the impatience and irritability to fade. Snatching a book from the pile helps, as well as spinning a record, or taking Harry out for a walk.
What also helps me decompress, as well as keep in balance, are two things that, today, are interconnected: Consuming news with intention and using my phone as a phone (plus alarm clock and flashlight).
Having come up in the analog world, I developed the habit of consuming news only once or twice a day. In my youth, I read the morning and evening newspapers (then two morning papers when both the Sacramento Bee and the Union moved to the A.M.). In my twenties, news came in the morning listening to NPR and reading the daily paper(s), and in the late afternoon reading a weekly or a magazine in a coffee shop. And that was that…until we got pocket phones and those phones turned into mini-computers with the capacity to replace newspapers and fill our world full of distractions made to keep our eyes fixed to a screen, and, boy, did they do a good job on that!
I’ve yet to find a definitive study on American’s smart phone usage, but it seems to be four to six hours daily. Some studies state that Americans spend more time looking at their phone screens than they do with their romantic partner. Sadly, kids spend more time staring at screens than they do playing. Through stimulation, training, and lies we’ve become addicted to our phones, which, when paired with 24/7 news coverage, is a very dangerous thing.
Let’s dig in deeper: Those of us who are politically inclined are going to pay attention to the news and, if we have a 24/7 news machine, we will pay attention to that thinking, probably subconsciously, that 24/7 means a lot of different news.
Reality check: While we have access to news around the world, we tend to stick with a few “trusted” news sources, which limit their coverage to the day’s highlights and its most engaging issues. Unless it’s war, assassination, major disaster, or directly impacts the US, we don’t get a lot of “foreign” news. Same goes with local and state news, when we are talking national outlets.
And, in Washington DC, not a lot happens right now, something that still applies with Trump. Remember that, under the Constitution, that, no matter how loud and obnoxious the occupant, the White House is not the center of everything. The president’s main task is to carry out and execute the law. Congress is there to make the law. The courts are there to judge and interpret the law.
What that means in the here and now is that, while Trump and Musk are creating quite a show (and damaging a lot in the process), substantial contributions to politics via making law is pretty minimal right now (Trump has pushed for no new legislation, relying only on executive orders, which are temporary – if they aren’t nonsensical or haven’t been shot down). However, our screens are still full of news, or, rather, a series of the same news stories, stories of the damage Musk and Trump are doing.
When we read the news, most of us are reading one, long, continuing story of two men running rampage and throwing tantrums, the damage that they’ve done, and the reaction to their words, actions, and damage done. Since January, we’ve been subjected to 24/7 coverage of a political tornado. The tornado spins, it moves, it damages, it spins, it moves, it damages, it spins, it moves, it damages. The details are in the speed of the tornado’s spin, where it moves, and what it damages, but that is it.
Think about that: The one news story, presented different ways, analyzed from different perspectives, but on the same subject all day, every day for three months. Even when broken up by news of a natural disaster or new war, we are fed the same thing over and over, if not in news stories, then in memes, clips, and social media posts on the “tornado.” Of course, that is going to warp our outlook, fuck with our emotions, and dull our spirits. As our world shrinks into one obscene version of Groundhog’s Day, we grow tired and retreat into isolation and cynicism. And, because we are addicted to the 24/7 news cycle and our screens, we rationalize our addiction (we are well-informed citizens), not realizing that we’ve been conditioned to engage with screens by someone else, that we’ve been brainwashed.
Because we are talking addiction, nothing about this is easy. Even when demoted to habitual, our unhealthy relationship with news consumption and our smart phones is a tough one to solve. But we are not helpless here. We can make some important decisions that can alter our relationship to the chaos, return ourselves to a healthy balance, and replenish ourselves for the long fight. And we can start that right now.
What are you doing this weekend? How about this? Leave your smart phone at home or turn it off. If you absolutely need to stay in contact with people 24/7, buy a flip phone and give the number to those who need to know – or ditch the smart phone for something dumb. Just get rid of the video screen and your access to social media and the 24/7 news feed. Do that and you’ve taken a big step to ween yourself from the mono-world you’ve fallen into.
If the screens you are fixed to are a home computer, laptop, and/or TV, it will take a bit more – though I’ve found that simply shutting down my computer and closing the laptop works. A closed laptop and an unpowered machine prevent instant access, which is enough to keep me from lazily staring into their screens. (If you work on a screen and don’t need the internet, shut off the internet or access to it while you are working…and keep your phone off.)
Television is a bit easier for me, as I don’t much like the medium. Still, when I engage, nowadays, no news, other than whatever John Oliver runs down once week. No loss. TV news sucks anyway. What I need to know I know thanks to “print.” TV is my sports box, movie screen, and stand-up stage.
If it seems like all I’m doing to escape the wormhole is changing my relationship with objects, ding ding ding, you’ve won a prize. Yes, that is what I’ve done, but it is a bit more than that. In changing my relationship with screens, I’ve taken control of my relationship with those things. My interaction with screens is no longer passive or habitual, but active and intentional. I dictate how I interact with screens and engage with what is on them. And I am mostly successful or at least successful enough to keep a healthy balance and keep me from falling into the abyss. I am taking control over my daily life.
Some of you might be thinking that by limiting your time scrolling through news on screens that you will miss something important. Trust me, you won’t. You will miss the spectacle and feeling overwhelmed. You will escape the doom scroll. But you won’t miss anything important. If a major earthquake hits and you haven’t felt it, you will hear news of it. If Trump declares war on Canada, you will know. If Musk is dragged into the street to be tarred and feathers, someone will tell you and you will be able to watch the video…later…in your leisure…with time to get popcorn and pour yourself a drink…and you will get to savoir what you see.
So, this weekend, start to disengage, so when you reengage, you do it intentionally, healthily, and in a way that enhances your life and makes your politics vibrant and effective.
Thanks for this.