Last year at this time things were quite different in the Twin Cities.  The Republican National Convention was in full swing and both Minneapolis and St. Paul were effectively under siege.  We all recall the thousands of local and imported delegates, protesters, riot cops, chartered buses, barricades, and journalists that transformed St. Paul into a political circus.  Activists had been flooding social media sites and the blogsphere for a year in advance organizing protests and recruiting people to join there causes.  During the week of the convention, these social media sites became a powerful tool for activists to out smart riot police and and broadcast their every move.

A few of my film maker friends set out to document the events and discovered some great information in the process.  At the time they regarded their findings as top secret as to maintain the flow of information from the activist underworld.  A year after these events occurred I think its safe to spill this can of beans.

While the thousands of peaceful protesters organized on the State Capitol lawn on September 1st, the Police were organizing to control the protest march that was about to take place.  Simultaneously many groups of protesters who’s intentions were to conduct civil disobedience and even rioting were putting their own plan into effect to carry out their missions.  One of the more active of activist groups was a local organization called the “RNC Welcoming Committee” who advocated less peaceful methods of protesting.  They divided the city into zones or “sectors” and delegated their radical protest duties to groups operating in each sector.  As seen in dozens of videos all over the internet,  these group of Anarchists and other anti-establishment protesters broke off from the march and raised havoc across the city.  Despite the presence of thousands of riot police form every part of the Midwest and beyond, these radical protesters successfully blocked traffic, harassed delegates, disabled delegates’ charter buses, and smashed windows on buildings and police cars.  How did they do it and where were the required back up of riot cops?

Activists use a Fox 9 report to claim victory over St. Paul’s police force in the aftermath of the RNC

A few weeks later the St. Paul police department admitted they had no control over the situation the first day of the convention.  In a Fox 9 report, the police site the problem being the two dispatch centers placed too close together.  What you didn’t hear from the police or press reports is that the protesters that broke off from the march had their own dispatch, a Twitter account called RNC08.

Twitter posts recieved via text messaging on 9-1-08 guided protesters.

Many of the protesters set up Twitter accounts of their own and became “followers” of RNC08.  By enabling the cell phone feature and turning on SMS text updates for the RNC08 account, over 100 rioters received real-time updates of locations of roit police, the direction they were heading, and how strong in numbers.   The recipients of these tweets would pass the information on to the protesters in their immediate vicinity and forward these texts to other groups.   The owner of the RNC08 Twitter account collected information from rioters in the streets located all over downtown St. Paul.  Some of the tweets requested reinforcements where cops outnumbered rioters or locations where riot cops were using rubber bullets, concussion grenades, and tear gas.  The large platoons of riot cops moved slowly, in formation, and often were a step behind the smaller, faster, black clad rebels.  In many cases these groups had control of the streets with out a single cop in sight.  When the “regular” St. Paul police showed up to deal with the groups they were out numbered 40 to 1.  You tube videos immediately surfaced of these cops being surrounded, all efforts to enforce the law failing – they retreat to their patrol cars in a shower of chants and cheers from the rowdy mobs of hecklers.  Inevitably the protesters clashed with riot police resulting in 270 arrests.

In addition to peaceful protesting and violently disrupting the RNC, social media was used extensively to document and report the protesting and disrupting.  Largely ignored by the mainstream media, each day massive peaceful protests, marches, and concerts were held in St. Paul.  Independent and alternative journalists used blogs, You Tube, and MySpace to tell their stories.  Some of these journalists found themselves caught up in riots and were detained.  Others sole intent was to document arrests to ensure police were not violating the rights of protesters and journalists.  Some journalists and watch dog groups had concerns that their footage would be confiscated by police and therefore came up with a creative solution:  live streaming video from Blackberry and other smart phones.  Using the video sharing and streaming site Qik.  Qik provides apps for popular smart phones allowing users to stream live video to their Qik profile where the videos are also recorded and archived.  While the quality of cell phone videos is quite poor, the videos can still be used as evidence, ironically against cops and protesters alike.

A lot has changed in the social media world in the year since the RNC took place.   Twitter and Facebook have eclipsed MySpace and dozens of new sites are springing up every week.  There’s no doubt that activist groups, peaceful or not, will utilize any that serve their purpose.

Why does Arnold even bother with California when he could just as easily go save Mars?

I once seriously entertained the notion of moving to San Francisco, but those days are gone for good. Why? Californians vote too many creepy politicians into office. I’m not talking about Arnold–who’s pretty much an open book and substantially more entertaining than Tim Pawlenty–but rather the ostensibly progressive likes of overt crpto-authoritarian Dianne Feinstein and the mysterious Henry Waxman. Though I’ve been suspicious of the West Hollywood moustache cultivator since the ’90′s, when his repeated attacks on dietary supplements and heirloom vegetables (tagged “invasive species” in one bill) convinced me he was seriously beholden to one or more chemically-dependent conglomerates, the current decade finds RIAA Respresentative Waxman alternately playing good and bad cop with America in a manner that leaves me thoroughly flummoxed.

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Waxman: juiced on power, otnay ootay ightbray.

To Waxman’s credit, he voted against granting telcoms retroactive immunity for their role in illegal domestic spying. But, a handful of apparent concessions to small farmers aside, his new Food Safety bill might stand the government’s most concerted assault to date on our right to just say no to agribiz’s forced fake food agenda. Regarding Network Neutrality, he waffles with a vengeance. (Dig this crazy list of contributors to see why he’s currently, uh, waxing “con.”) And why did he he help make the currently pending American Clean Energy and Security Act so ridiculously toothless?

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Mr. Ellison goes to Gaza.

I’d be a lot more inclined to do some serious money-following if The Honorable (for real) Keith Ellison hadn’t already launched a campaign to give environmental and energy legislation the kind of muscle the President wants, I want, and life on our planet needs. As with O, I’ve been a fan of the guy since learning of his existence: my admiration for him only grows.

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Ellison speaks at the 2008 National Conference for Media Reform.

For the first time ever, I feel as if I have a Rep who actually represents me and my interests–in pretty much every imaginable way. I email Ellison about polar bears, he responds with three pages subtly (and completely unintentionally) indicating that he doesn’t share my views–I share his. Not only is dude fully informed on the issue, he’s already taken action above and beyond what I just asked him to do. This sort of thing happens all the time, to the extent that I’d be sick of sending him “thank you” notes if he didn’t keep giving me such good reasons to send them. Still, as somebody who prizes prescience–even over compassion–along with turnabout as fair play’s most elegant manifestation, I feel like a the time has come for me to anticipate Ellison’s needs for once, do the right thing now, and unilaterally throw his hat into the ring. If he ends up running, all the better. If not, I’ll feel all the more honored to live in the same town as him.

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Brother Ali supports Ellison, sports better moustache than Waxman’s–better rapper, too.

We always admire qualities in others that we lack. To wit: Senator Thomas Bakk claimed to support Mike Ciresi’s senatorial bid because Ciresi had spent his career “protecting the little guy.”

 Nobody, but nobody, knows everything about everything–not even Robert Burton or me. Given the sorry state of electoral politics in the US–especially apparent among the hordes of one-dimensional, money-grubbing hacks from both major parties infesting both Congress and its statehouse equivalents–we should count ourselves lucky when any elected official knows anything about anything not directly connected with dough acquisition and/or staying in office.

While Bakk–not unlike our current governor–skews overtly anti-urban and anti-arts, you’d think Davnie might have a bit more on the ball.

Sadly, some of Minnesota’s legislators aren’t even up to the latter. Take Senator Thomas Bakk and Representative Jim Davnie.  Please. By authoring and introducing a pair of bills that would impose Minnesota’s sales tax on all legit downloads–music, movies, books…the whole tamale–both lawmakers have already demonstrated their abysmal ignorance of music, the music industry, internet commerce, piracy, and the internet, along with arts and media in general–along with their indifference to the devastating effect the tax would have on our state’s independently owned labels, its vibrant music scene and musicians. The one funny thing about the situation is that  neither Minneapolitan Davnie nor aspiring governor Bakk realize how many artists in all disciplines they’ve already alienated with their hack, “monkey-see, monkey do,” posturing. Whether or not the tax bills pass is moot at this point; artists, arts administrators and supporters, owners and employees of arts-related businesses, readers, listeners, viewers–all of us need to do everything in our power to get these bumblers out of office and keep them there.  (More next week.)

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Tony Clifton!” announces the balding, overenthusiastic stage master. He overextends the “on” of Clifton’s name as if he’s wringing the last drop of juice out of a mangled grapefruit.

Trained as well as any Beverly Hills poodle, the audience claps. The drumroll cues; and our bald friend moves to the side of the stage.

Don’t buy a used dog from this man.

Ivan Petrovich Pavlov inhumanely used dogs for his legendary conditioning excperiments, but their perverse little successors–studio-audience humans–work nearly as well, even though conditioned to respond with applause in lieu of saliva. Granted, given how great they’d look drooling en masse, the switch is kind of unfortunate.

Seconds after, the clapping stops. The audience already feels betrayed. They deserve some entertainment! Clap, and the entertainment always follows! Always!

Backstage, a middle-aged man, arguing with the now overly-concerned sargeant-baldy.

Sarge returns to the center stage, shaking his head apologetically. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he nervously explains, “due to Mr. Clifton’s vocal constraints, he…out of respect for him he…he asks that you please extinguish your smoking materials, cigars and cigarettes…please.”

Discontented chatter fills the room, no doubt in response to the recent stipulation. Despite their obvious dissatisfaction, the good little human units comply, especially one woman who yanks her husband’s cigar out of his mouth and smothers it in a nearby glass container.

Sarge apologizes, again, and reintroduces “Mr. Tony Clifton” with the same cheesy bravado as before.

Cue stereotypical entrance music from the house band.

A slouching, overweight middle-aged man with bushy brownish-black hair and muttonchops to match struts to the microphone, takes a long drag on a cigarette., and blows smoke rings at the outraged audience.

Meet Tony Clifton, who may or may not be himself.

After what appears to be a conscious effort at dancing, he begins to sing off-key “Vo… (extending the note)…lare. Whoa oh. Ca-wa-wa-wa-wa-wantare! Whoa, whoa whoa whoa! No wonder my happy heart sings. Your love has given me wings. I got the wings of a dove. I got the wings…”

The band stops playing but Tony continues to half-sing.

“I got the wings from Kentucky Fried.”

He looks around. The venue is dead silent. Awkward isn’t the best word to describe the situation, but it works.

“Whoop-de-doo, whoop-de-di!” he continues. “Stick a-a needle in your eye!”

Some people look on and laugh, others wipe their foreheads as if embarassed for the showman. One woman says “Oh, my God.”

“Let’s get somethin’ straight, people,” Tony announces. “I play big showrooms in Vegas. I need this place like I need a shotgun blast to the face!”

The audience is becoming even more disgusted.

As if warning his prey, Tony says “Now, let’s go down and meet some of the audience.”

For the next few minutes, he roams the floor, ridiculing the patrons as they dine. “Whoops! Hey, look out! I think you sat in some cottage cheese! Oh, pardon me. That’s your ass!” he tells one woman, right before walking over to a timid man with curly hair and dumping water on his head.

Satisfied, Tony begins to sing and leaves as quickly as he entered.

Despite their love or hatred for Mr. Clifton, each audience member departs with a unique story for friends and relatives. All in attendance now have an irreplaceable, one-of-a-kind memory, thanks to performance artist Andy Kaufman.

Tony Clifton isn’t real. He’s a fictional character created by Kaufman because “everyone loves a villain.” The curly haired-man he dumped water on? That’s Andy’s longtime friend and writer, Bob Zmuda.

Kaufman’s shenanigans continued long after the public caught on–and even after his presumed death in 1984–but the effect just wasn’t the same. The all-important shock value had been worn away by repeated use.

But what if the incorrigible subversive applied this “everybody loves a villain” Tony Clifton entertainment concept to modern times?

Here’s my theory:

Andy Kaufman didn’t die. He’s actually still alive and writing movie reviews.

The uncredited godfather of modern-day “professional wrestling” staged his own death and slipped underground. Now he’s the mastermind behind one of the greatest farces in modern crticism. Legions of Zmudas are now stationed in some of the highest ranking positions in entertainment journalism, toying with anyone and everyone who pours blind faith into the “objective assessments” of others. This emotional fishing worked well on unsuspecting patrons back in 1979, but it works even better in today’s fanboy-infested culture.

Film critics are dying en masse. Well, not really. They’re just getting tossed to the curb as their former positions fall into the hands of Cro-magnons prone to etching religious symbols on concrete slabs right next to their doodles of Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt (if you don’t know who they are consider yourself lucky). The future isn’t bleak, it’s a sand-blasted nuclear wasteland.

Roger Ebert knows what’s up. Late last November the high priest of movie criticism (I mean that with unending jealousy) posted a 1200 word blog entry chronicling the death of film critics and their replacement “the CelebCult.” “The lengthening toll of former film critics,” he wrote, “acts as a poster child for the self-destruction of American newspapers, which once hoped to be more like the New York Times and now yearn to become more like the National Enquirer. We used to be the town crier. Now we are the neighborhood gossip.”

At the end of the article, Ebert confesses he’s not placing the blame on individual critics, but on “the death of an intelligent and curious, readership, interested in significant things and able to think critically,” along with “the failure of the educational system; “ending the piece with “It is not about dumbing-down. It is about snuffing out.”

Ebert’s far too kind. Ultimately critics are the ones pulling the text/star gun’s triggers, so shouldn’t they take at least some of the blame? I could be wrong, but I imagine Mr. Chicago Sun Times had a few particular “journalists” in mind when he wrote this fyi/call-to-arms.

I’m not as kind or eloquent as Roger Ebert, but I’m not in the mood to burn any potential bridges, so I’ll just point my bony little finger at one nutjob who deserve to be pointed at. She doesn’t exactly fit the previously mentioned “CelebCult,” but could easily be one of Kaufman/Clifton’s subpersonalities.

Mentally, I prepared a long and not-very-friendly commentary on self-described “conservative political commentator” Debbie Schlussel’s “review” of the film adaptation of Watchmen. In fact, da Debilicious wun was the entire catalyst for this article, but I later learned Ebert’s traveled that road before.

On January 18, 2006 he took five quotes from Schlussel’s “reviews” and five from Ann Coulter’s “reviews,” mixed them up, and compiled them into what he called “Critics & Pundits: A Game Show.” He even placed Gong Show creator, and possible CIA assassin, Chuck Barris as the host. Contestants/readers were to guess which quote came from which “venomous, blonde-tressed scribe who wrote blurbs about contemporary movies that may or may not have been used in the ad campaigns.” Cheeky bastard even added a theme song:

(ADAPTED FROM “THE PATTY DUKE SHOW”):

Meet Annie who flips her long blonde hair
She makes no sense; she doesn’t care.
But Debbie wants to be her clone,
Spew lurid piffle of her own –
What a crazy pair!

Because they’re pundits,
Identical pundits, and you’ll find
They look alike, they think alike,
They like to Kool-Aid drink alike.
You will lose your mind
When pundits are two of a kind!

Had this been a real game show, I probably would’ve gone home empty-handed. Five of my answers were incorrect. Who knew distinguishing between the two “venomous blondes” could be so difficult?! Ebert, apparently.

In case you’re wondering, here’s a brief excerpt from frau Schlusselmeister’s analysis of Watchmen:

“…I haven’t seen a more violent, depraved movie in years (not to mention a longer, more boring movie with a more preposterous and silly plot.) This movie makes the graphic bloodshed of the recently released “Friday the 13th” look like “Cinderella.”’
She later says the 10 year-old son of a “white single mother” “is going to grow up to be messed up” from watching this movie. (She rarely mentions non-whites she doesn’t have issues with.)

Are you starting to see why Andy Kaufman’s involvement is a realistic possibility?

Ebert, on the other hand, called Watchmen: “…another bold exercise in the liberation of the superhero movie…a compelling visceral film – sound, images and characters combined into a decidedly odd visual experience that evokes the feel of a graphic novel. It seems charged from within by its power as a fable; we sense it’s not interested in a plot so much as with the dilemma of functioning in a world losing hope.”

Unlike Schlussel, Ebert’s not a borderline psychotic bent on turning the US (and/or globe) into an Israeli satellite. Where Ebert sees films as a form of art and self-expression, Schlussel sees only tools for spreading ideology and misinformation. Ebert gets paid to write reviews, Schlussel, as far as I know, doesn’t. But for how long? Her Watchmen rant garnered hundreds of comments and an exponentially greater number of page views. Some struggling newspaper will almost surely enlist both her popularity and her blondeness in a last-ditch campaign to boost subscription numbers. And that’s not even our worst-case scenario.

Best case? She removes her face, Mission Impossible-style, revealing a slightly older, more insidious Andy Kaufman. Until then, I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

 Walking the walk behind much of his talk, Lessig drops a remix of a remix of his “Change Congress” remix at Web 2.0 Summit 2008.

For a few days last week, trawling for media-related change revelations made me feel like a stalker in deep space, harassing radiation, spying on gases, and making midnight breather calls to interstellar dust just to keep my A-game intact. What could be better? Even the wait itself offered little in the way of agony. Pacing around my living room like a caged wolverine is infinitely more fun than, say, watching TV, waxing a car, or playing Madden knee-deep in hot pocket wrappers. I might even end up missing it…soon. Between queuing up responses to far more urgent issues, O‘s been putting all kinds of appointment balls in motion. On November 14, Change.gov announced the Obama-Biden Transition Project’s Science, Tech, Space, and Arts Team Leads. For the FCC, our Pres-elect tapped two of the best minds in their field. Let’s meet one.

Like fellow Team Lead Kevin Werbach, Susan Crawford has long championed a free and open Internet. She’s also hot on getting our speeds up to snuff.

Formerly a partner at  law firm Wilmer, Cutler, and Pickering (now WilmerHale) and member of the Board of Directors for ICANN, One WebDay founder Professor Susan Crawford teaches communications law and internet law at the University of Michigan, blogs like a deity, and digs Second Life. She also understands networks and their potential better than any entity short of a galactic civilization.

Crawford rocks Rocketboom

 Wired called Kevin Werbach “one of the few policy wonks who really got it” long before he reached his current level of expertise…or helped start two guilds in World of Warcraft.

Former FCC Counsel for New Technology Policy and editor of Release 1.0, Supernova Group founder Kevin Werbach is Assistant Professor of Legal Studies at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School. and one of the first people major technology and communications companies go to for advice on the business, social, and policy implications of emerging technologies. Like Crawford, he harbors a vast trove of network-related knowledge and blogs magnificently. Werbach  knows Lessig and his work well–and vice versa–to the extent that during a 2006 Second Life in-world talk co-hosted by SL founder Philip Linden and LL, Werbach (as or through Neptune Rebel) greeted Lessig through a panelist and asked about his views on fair use and parody. Before answering the question, Lessig observed that he’d stolen every great idea Werbach had and turned it into a book, with many not yet written.

Smoother than  Ne-Yo, Werbach unpacks the Supernova Conference he founded eight years ago.

The President-elect, on guaranteeing a free and open Internet.

Yay! While many Americans have ample cause to celebrate Barack Obama’s victory in yesterday’s election, it’s unlikely that anybody is happier than those of us who advocate Network Neutrality and sensible intellectual property laws, as well as–at the very least–enforcement of statutes long ignored by both dominant oligopolies and the Bush-era FCC requiring broadcast media outlets to offer a measure of local representation.

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FCC Commissioner Michael Copps talks Net Neutrality and broadcast reality at the 2008 National Conference for Media Reform.

The coming adjustment in the Federal Communications Commission‘s balance of power (from three Republican Commissioners and two Democrats to vice versa) offers us the opportunity to see our dreams come true. Commissioners Jonathan Adelstein and Michael Copps have fought long and hard for the causes above; either would make a fine Chairman. While not without detractors, outgoing Chairman Kevin Martin has done a remarkable job of putting the public interest before partisan considerations and the demands of gluttonous fat cats. Let’s hope he doesn’t bail.

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But what about the new Commissioner? While Robert McChesney, Tim Wu, Susan Crawford, John Palfrey, and Julius Genachowski (along with a few dozen other possible candidates) all boast spectacular credentials, one individual stands head and shoulders above everybody else: Lawrence Lessig. Given his very vocal support for publicly financed elections, the Professor of Law at Stanford University, founder of the school’s Center for Internet and Society, and Creative Commons founding chair, might face a bit of a battle in Congress. But nobody on the planet is better qualified for the position. In a few days we’ll take a look at his ever-evolving curriculum vitae and why the intellectual property extremists who fear Lessig most might actually feel safer with him locked into a government position…especially one a few tables down from their gravy boats.

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Lessig defends Net Neutrality at an FCC hearing in April. Did we mention that he knows–and understands–the Internet better than every wannabe gatekeeper combined?

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Lessig at the 2008 National Conference for Media Reform, offering a potential patch for our nation’s massively costly coding errors.