Motored up to Santa Fe last night to see the (seemingly) immortal Richard Thompson, OBE, and his current four-person trio.  I donned a black beret in tribute.

Pardon the amateur quality of the video (not by me), but it has the virtue of showcasing Thompson’s phenomenal guitar skills in a song that is a tribute to his guitar heroes.  Here he plays like Django, Les Paul, Chuck Berry, Hank Marvin, and (now and again) Richard Thompson.

Also, check out the phenomenal drummer Michael Jerome, who follows Thompson through every shift in style.

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Shoshana Zuboff takes aim at surveillance capitalism.

. . . the digitization of everything was giving technology firms immense social power. From the modest beachheads inside our browsers, they conquered, Blitzkrieg-style, our homes, cars, toasters, and even mattresses. Toothbrushes, sneakers, vacuum cleaners: our formerly dumb household subordinates were becoming our “smart” bosses. Their business models turned data into gold, favoring further expansion.

Google and Facebook were restructuring the world, not just solving its problems. The general public, seduced by the tech world’s youthful, hoodie-wearing ambassadors and lobotomized by TED Talks, was clueless. Zuboff saw a logic to this digital mess; tech firms were following rational—and terrifying—imperatives. To attack them for privacy violations was to miss the scale of the transformation—a tragic miscalculation that has plagued much of the current activism against Big Tech . . . 

“Forget the cliché that if it’s free, ‘You are the product,’” she exhorts. “You are not the product; you are the abandoned carcass. The ‘product’ derives from the surplus that is ripped from your life.” The worst, though, is still to come, she argues, as tech giants shift from predicting behavior to engineering it. “It is no longer enough to automate information flows about us,” she warns; “the goal now is to automate us.”

Abandoned carcasses unite!  You have nothing to lose but the illusion that you are a living, breathing being possessed of free will!

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Presenting a video in which I and about a dozen other writers discuss the collaborative project that is Wild Cards.

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I’ve been trying to work hard and mostly failing, so I might as well listen to Pink Martini and surrender to the mood.

The chorus is a riff off the French composer Poulenc, and translates as follows:

I don’t want to work

I don’t want to lunch

All I want is to forget

And I want to smoke

Except that I like lunch and don’t care for tobacco, that pretty much describes my present.  In my current mood, I’ll settle for 50%.

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