Wednesday, April 30, 2014


Some time ago I heard author Charles C. Mann interviewed on NPR.   He spoke about his book 1493.   1493 details the aftereffects of Christopher Columbus' "discovery" of the New World.  Mann grandly describes this as:
the greatest event in the history of life since the death of the dinosaurs.
I was fascinated by the interview and resolved to read his book.  First I read his earlier book 1491 about what the Western Hemisphere was like before the Europeans.  I blogged about 1491 last year.

You might assume that because 1491 focused specifically on the Western Hemisphere before the year 1492 that 1493 would concentrate on what happened here after 1492.  You'd be correct only up to a point.  Many surprising things happened when the nations of Europe fell over themselves in cutthroat competition, sometimes comically, often unwittingly, to bring religion, greed, weapons, animals, diseases and slaves to this strange, dangerous new world.

The other half of the story concerns how the Europeans tried to exploit their discoveries back in the old world.  These discoveries included:
  • seemingly limitless quantities of silver, 
  • essential foodstuffs like corn (Mann calls it maize) and potatoes, 
  • rubber (which blew the European's minds) 
  • tobacco (which blew their minds in a different way) and 
  • (most remarkably) vast amounts of bird shit.
To describe the constant interactions between old and new worlds, he adopts the term Columbian Exchange.  Mann follows this subject matter in surprising directions:
  • How the life cycle of the malaria parasite affected the position of the Mason-Dixon line.
  • How silver from South America impacted Chinese monetary policy and the founding of the city of Manila.
  • Why the potato famine in Ireland was exacerbated by modern agricultural practices.
  • How a failed Scottish colony in Panama led to Scotland joining Great Britain.
  • Why the first Chinatown in the Americas was located in Mexico City in the 17th century.
  • How the mass deaths of American Indians might have caused temperatures to drop in Europe during the Little Ice Age.
Mann doesn't pass up chances to tell good tales about colorful characters, historical or modern. He follows several of his stories right up to the modern era, trying hard to bring his disparate subjects together.  Still there's only so much you can fit into a 500 page book.

Bringing it all together, however, is really what 1493 is about.  In a word, the book's subject is globalization. While we usually think of this in a contemporary context, Mann shows us that globalization actually started very soon after Columbus and has been going on ever since.

And Mann makes it clear that it is not just the human narrative which is important.  Plants and animals, especially microscopic animals, have big parts in his story.  Mann's overall approach is well summed up by a simple comment, tossed off in a footnote:
history is an interplay of social and biological processes.
He argues that the changes to the earth resulting from the human ability to encircle it are so massive that they constitute a whole new biologic epoch.  He calls this period the homogenocene era, now just entering its second half millennium.

Indeed, humanity is not likely to undergo such a massive sudden change in environment, resources or basic conditions until that day when someone discovers how to get back and forth to another habitable planet, filled with strange plants and creatures whose intelligence is hard to identify, where humans will once again try anything they can think of to make a buck, proselytize their gods and plant their flags without giving the slightest thoughts to what the long-term repercussions might be.

A book completely unrelated to 1493, except in the form of its title, is 1453 by Roger Crowley.

Are you wondering about my reference to bird shit?  Mann tells about the discovery of huge deposits of bird dropping on islands off the coast of Peru.  In the mid-19th century Chinese slaves were used to mine the stuff and ship it back to Europe as potent agricultural fertilizer - far better than any other known at the time.  It was especially useful for the potato crop.  Here are two quotes from 1493 which describe the far-reaching effects of the humble potato and this huge pile of guano:
Before the potato and maize, before intensive fertilization, European living standards were roughly equivalent with those today in Cameroon and Bangladesh; they were below Bolivia or Zimbabwe.  On average, European peasants ate less per day than hunting-and-gathering societies in Africa or the Amazon. Industrial monoculture with improved crops and high-intensity fertilizer allowed billions of people - Europe first, and then much of the rest of the world - to escape the Malthusian trap.  (p.280)
"Potatoes, by feeding rapidly growing populations, permitted a handful of European nations to assert dominion over most of the world between 1750 and 1950." Hunger's end helped create the political stability that allowed European nations to take advantage of American silver.  The potato fueled the rise of the West. (p.253)
So the next time you bite into a french fry at McDonalds, think about the global effects of that pigeon pooping under the bench next to you.

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Rudy Schwartz Project: Winter Dance of the Koala Sperm Harvest

In my previous post I mentioned Joe Newman of the Rudy Schwartz Project.  Then, a couple days ago I discovered a copy of the new RSP album Winter Dance of the Koala Sperm Harvest in my mailbox.  Apparently the album has not been formally released yet.  So let this be a lesson to you: if you want to be the first on your block to hear his music mention Joe on your own blog.

You will be able to download the new album from this large corporation or from this other large corporation.  Older RSP CDs are still available from this small company.

This album has all the hallmarks of any good RSP release:
  • clever and amusing musical parody
  • up to the minute political outrage
  • encomia to or mockery of actors with familiar faces 
  • references to sticking things into people's butts
  • bits of fun ugly new music or avant-garde jazz
  • cultural references you can't quite identify
  • little bits of old movies or commercials
  • clever lyrics you can't believe anyone has balls enough to actually sing
And what other album dares to ask, in its opening track, whether you'd prefer to hear Schoenberg or Neil Diamond?

Clearly, when it comes to having an ear for imitating musical styles and using them to lampoon the buffoons who run the world in order to screw little guys, Joe Newman is a worthy successor to none other than Frank Zappa.  I bet he wishes more people agreed with me.

Other cuts on this album which deserve mention (in my opinion):

  • The Guy From the N.S.A. (a calypso tune; the chorus goes "Fuck the guy from the NSA")
  • Le twist gnossienne (Erik Satie as dreamt by Dick Dale)
  • Winter Dance of the Koala Sperm Harvest (a new genre: Tchaikovsky ballet parody)
  • A Better Tomorrow (clearly the best use of the word 'not' in any song ever)

Here's a sample track from WDotKSH. It's called In Cucamonga - video imagery by Zontar.  Yes, that's Jesus himself on vocals.

Here's a picture of Mount Rudymore showing the Rudy Schwartz Project pantheon - Don Knotts, Olan Soulé, Abe Vigoda, Bob Eubanks and Ernest Borgnine.  (click to enlarge)

You can like The Rudy Schwartz Project on Facebook.  You can listen to some of their albums on Spotify.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Allegro - Winter 2013 short version

I hope you'll listen to my piece Allegro.  My friend Joe Newman, the brains behind The Rudy Schwartz Project, said this about it:
If you could get a highly skilled Euro prog rock band to play this … I'll bet every pot head in Germany would be all over it. 
If only.

Click here to hear Allegro by David Ocker © 2014 - 804 seconds

One of the principal reasons I gave up actively pursuing careers as a composer and performer of new music, back in the early nineties, was that I often found myself experiencing anger rather than enjoyment from new music performances.

I happened to attend several such concerts this week.  There were pieces on these particular concerts, curiously all of them by New York composers, which brought back that same old anger.  I still dislike experiencing anger when listening to music these days, just like I did back then.  Maybe more.

The capper was when I read in the program notes to the most elaborately assaultive of these pieces, a work which made me wonder whether it had been written by a particularly unhappy and unfulfilled individual, that the composer thought he had written a piece about love.

I suppose that any piece of music without lyrics can be about anything the composer says it is.  What he says about it is his business.  And I suppose a listener can hear his piece and experience great love.  It's not my business to judge what you find loving.

Still, when I perceive such a vast disconnect between my response to a piece of music and the composer's apparent intent, it just reinforces my notion that music works best when it not about anything.  It's just music, just vibrating air, just, to paraphrase Frank Zappa, a decoration of time.

That is why I decided to give my piece such a generic music title.  It's also why I've decided to associate this particular rant with it.  I really like Allegro, although you might understandably think me somewhat biased.

Just remember:  Allegro is not about anything.  It is a mere time decoration.  If you can't listen on that level you're free to make up any description for it, one that seems useful to you.  It can be about love or about purple motorcycles.  What goes on in your brain is none of my business.

Because time is nebulous I have been decorating it in two different, um, timeframes.  To that effect Allegro is the shortened version of Winter 2013.  Exactly the same music, different amounts of silence.  They're part of my series called The Seasons.

These seasons, short or long, are not about anything - anymore than a calendar is about something.  A calendar just marks off hunks of time.  People have to put things into the calendar to give it any meaning.

Allegro just marks off a hunk of time.  If you want it to have meaning, you have to put something into it.   It should come as no surprise that what you decide to put into it is none of my business.