Playpen

 

Playpen by Tosh Berman

February 4, 2021, by Tosh Berman

 

February 4, 2021

Today Facebook is 17-years old.  A mere teenager on the entranceway to being an adult. Where would I be without Facebook? Or bigger question, where would you be without Facebook? Before Facebook, I was quite happy to be on MySpace and then before that Friendster. I started being creative on MySpace by writing a daily diary directly to their website. Some reason or another, I became a Facebook member, and why I left for one social platform to the other is a mystery to me. I remember Facebook people at the time would rather be caught dead than be on MySpace. Facebook had a loyal fanbase, and memory doesn't serve me well why that was or is the reason.  At the time, I think Facebook was more comfortable to use.

I have to point out the importance of Facebook to me and my writing. On news years eve, 2013, I decided to post an essay/fiction/journal entry every day in 2014. I posted the writings on my personal Google blog (Blogger) as well. Every morning I would wake up around 6:30 morning and started my research that day. It took me about an hour to figure out what I'm going to write about, and then by 11 that morning, I would post the piece on Facebook as well as my blog. For me, Facebook is a canvas for me to work on. I got a fair amount of readers, as well as people commenting on the pieces. So, right away, I got attention for my work. The negative thing about Facebook is its censorship time-to-time and obviously mining out personal information regarding your 'likes' and commentary. It's not uncommon to comment on something and then see the ad for that product or political party show up on your Facebook feed and even outside the website. 

I have never been upset with Facebook because I know I'm a guest here, and the site is by no means my property.  I don't have to pay rent, nor do I have to click on items brought to my attention. Still, it's difficult to ignore something or get emotionally involved, where you feel you must click to 'like." The Facebook community has done harm. We see that by the rise of Right-Wing Militant groups and others who use the platform to spread false reports or news. One can say the same for the Left, but I'll let that slide since I sympathize with The Left. Not only will I let that slide, but I will never leave Facebook. Even before the virus, I felt the strains of alienation and being separated from the landscape. By being with Facebook, I often felt outraged over someone's post or stance in life. I often think about it in the middle-of-the-night while trying to fall asleep. 

Facebook is like having a boyfriend, girlfriend, or the other. You have to input information, thoughts, insight, and anger to make the social platform into something primarily vital in one's life.  You can't win on Facebook, but you can survive.  At times it is like watching a road accident took place, but one should just move on and go on to the other posts. It's interesting to note how personal Facebook can be. For instance, Mark chose the blue color design due that he's color-blind. That, maybe just a myth. But then again, Facebook itself is a myth. Happy 17th Birthday Facebook.

May 6, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

May 6, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

Strange day today, due to the passing of a family friend and poet Michael McClure, and of course, being a Kraftwerk fan, I'm off my mark due to the death of Florian Schneider. Death is never a comma; it always the period at the end of a sentence.

I don't know if it's a matter of luck, or I thrive on bad times, but since the lockdown due to the Trump Virus, I have been working steadily.  I now have three writing jobs, and all of them are fascinating.   I can't go into it here, because I feel it's bad luck to write about a future project or assignment.  The dire situation was a month ago, our bank account had nothing but trapped moths, and now there is some hope. I'm grateful for that, no kidding.

When I do go out it is to pick up my mom's laundry, which we do on a weekly basis.  Young people are walking around with no masks, and one can feel the tension of being contained for the past month and a half.  I'm not sure what the psychology is, with people who refuse to wear masks when they are out running or walking on the street or park. On the surface, it seems to be a freedom of doing what one wants to issue, but I think the thinking is more of distrust of the information that they are getting, and it doesn't help when President Virus gives conflicting news, which is tinged with his apparent madness.  Also, a lot of people are selfish.

Late last night, I read a post on a Facebook page of a "friend," saying that it is natural for the old to get sick and die, and therefore as a healthy person, why should he suffer for it.  All he wants to do is work, be with people, and don't see the reason why he needs to protect older citizens.  I posted a comment saying, "that's a tad harsh, no?"  When I went back on the site to read if there was a comment made on my post remark, the entire post was gone.  So, there is the sensitivity of sorts being played out, but in truth, there are people out there who don't care what happens to others, and therefore they feel that they shouldn't be restricted in living their own lives. There is a "Me" and "Us" view of the world. America lacks the collective need or the urgency or the will to sacrifice to do things together for the common good or the health of others.

For me, I have a zeal to stay home.  Every day is a new adventure, and I embrace each day as if it was my last.  My mood changes as if one change their bedsheets, but nevertheless, I'm finding myself optimistic about my life. Still, I'm feeling that American society is reflecting on their dark and dangerous soul.  It's horrifying out there, and if one feels fear, I think that is a natural acceptance. Anxiety, sleepless nights, boredom, and fear are the characteristics of living in America. Perhaps in your world as well? - Tosh Berman

June 4, 2019

June 4, 2019

This year, besides my regular writing sessions, and YouTube channel "Tosh Talks," I also do "Tosh Talks Podcast" which is me chatting away about subject matters that interest me, and hopefully you the listener will find interesting as well.   There was a snag concerning Facebook policies.  I posted an image of the Japanese writer Shūji Terayama with his theater troop of actors, which has a nude or two, and that got me banned on Facebook for 24-hours.   I wrote back to Facebook to let them know that the photograph is of an artist and his actors, but alas, they still thought it wasn't a proper image for the Facebook website.

On one end, I have to acknowledge that Facebook is not my property, and therefore, me using the Facebook format or site is truly me being a guest there.  Still, I'm bringing art, information, cultural views that will not hurt anyone.  Facebook is famous for not taking down specific videos or websites that are proven to be false, yet within minutes, they took down an image of Terayama.

Still, as a guest of sorts, I feel unwelcome on their site.  We will see what will happen in the future.  Meanwhile here's my "Tosh Talks Podcast page down below.

Tosh Talks Podcast Page

Tosh Berman banned from Facebook (Again)

Once again, I have been temporary banned from Facebook for reasons that are beyond me.  For those who read my blog, knows this is totally laughable and false.  Yet, we will see what will happen.  To quote Facebook below:

"We restrict the display of nudity. Some descriptions of sexual acts may also be removed. These restrictions on the display of both nudity and sexual activity also apply to digitally created content unless the content is posted for educational, humorous or satirical purposes.

We remove content that threatens or promotes sexual violence or exploitation. This includes solicitation of sexual material, any sexual content involving minors, threats to share intimate images and offers of sexual services. Where appropriate, we refer this content to law enforcement.

To learn more about the kinds of messages and posts that are allowed on Facebook, please review the Facebook Community Standards.

You’re Temporarily Blocked From Posting

This temporary block will last 3 days, and you won’t be able to post on Facebook until it’s finished.

Please keep in mind that people who repeatedly post things that aren’t allowed on Facebook may have their accounts permanently disabled.

"I Hate The Internet" by Jarett Kobek (We Heard You Like Books)

ISBN: 9780996421805 We Heard You Like Books

"I Hate The Internet" by Jarett Kobek (We Heard You Like Books, 2016)

San Francisco has always been an odd city to me.  There are many wonderful things about it, but then the technology internet companies moved in, and sort of changed the landscape from the literary beats with great bars to Google world.  Yet the city houses one of the great bookstores in the world, the iconic (rightfully so) City Lights, but alas, the literary tradition does continue on, which is Jarett Kobek's novel "I Hate The Internet."   Yet, the novel doesn't prowl through the streets of Dashell Hammett or Jack Spicer, but the sorry state of Google, Facebook, which is now tattooed on the image of San Francisco.  On the other hand, it can be any city in America that embraces a technology that brings riches to a few, yet can leave a greater population empty - as in desire and promises not full-filled. 

I read very little of contemporary novels, but I have to say Kobek's book is really rooted into the "now."   I have never read a book that is so now, and not only that, it is a great novel.  It is my ideal of fiction writing in which it is about ideas, culture and politics. I imagine if Guy Debord wrote fiction it would be like "I Hate The Internet."  Kobek pretty much describes the dangers of the computer world, and what it promises to be, as in opening up new worlds for the consumer/visitor, but more likely the sole purpose is to either collect your personal information, or sell you something.  It's capitalism, but taken on to another tech level.   

There are characters, that are both real and fictional, or fictional real, but what is interesting to me is when Kobek breaks down the ills which are the American world, that is basically defined by Google and other sites.  Without a doubt, the Internet is quite useful, but there is also a price that goes with it, and in many ways, it is sort of the death of a culture that was once much loved.  Or, at least those who lived a long time, or have a memory of a life before the Net.  Excellent commentary on the American 21st century. 

- Tosh Berman

THE SUNDAY SERIES starting Sunday January 11, 2015

Ladies and Gentlemen, 
Did you really think I would go away? Starting next Sunday, I'll be starting my "SUNDAY SERIES." Every Sunday I will post a new story. Some of it will be true, some of it will be blue, and some will just exist in its own natural naked state. Hopefully you will enjoy it, as much as I will enjoy writing the pieces for you. - Tosh Berman, January 4, 2014.

November 23, 2014

November 23, 2014

I like sweets, but I tend not to like the taste of sweets.  Instead, I like to look at sweets.  For reasons I am not totally clear on, the visual aspects of certain foods, I greatly admire, but I have no urge to eat them.  Instead I like the image of food much better than eating that food.  If you wonder what my favorite film is, I with all honesty would have to say a Burger King commercial, where they show in detail, a sandwich about to be eaten.  I can’t even remember the actor/model who is about to bite into the sandwich.  Or if it is taking place on a real or imagined location.  My only focus is on the sandwich itself.  I’m the commercial wants that effect, but also, I have no memory where that sandwich came from.  Burger King, McDonald’s, In N’ Out - all of them are the same to me.  I can’t imagine I would go to a fast-food place to eat anything, and I have no urge to see these foods in real time.  No, I prefer the photograph or even painting of food than the real thing.

If you’re on Facebook or Instagram, one can’t avoid the pictures of people’s meals before eating it.  I would like to say these images are spiritual, but they’re more about consuming than anything else.  Or is it even that?  Wouldn’t it be better to show an empty plate, which in turn, strongly suggests that the eater really loved that meal?  So why are photographs of food or a meal before it is eaten?  On one level, I can see it as a journal for the eater - he or she can look at the picture and be reminded that they had that meal at so and so place and time, but what does it mean to the viewer?  

The best sweets are the one’s that look the most complicated to make.  We admire the skills and how that plate of food is made.   The portion has to be just right (usually in America, at the very least, there’s a lot of food on that plate) and the setting should be seductive as well.  As a viewer it doesn’t make me hungry, but I guess a touch of jealousy does come into the picture.  Not only are these images pornography of sorts, but it also a statement that “I’m living better than you, because look at this food I’m about to eat.” In essence not that far off from a model/actress in a porn film being interviewed about her sexual habits before being fucked by the photographer.   There is something creepy about seeing a young girl being used in such a fashion in front of a camera, and I feel the same way at looking at someone’s image of their meal.  I too want to have sex with that girl in the film, in that same exact situation, but I can’t. The same as when I look at a picture of someone’s decadent desert, I can’t eat it due to health issues.  It is almost like the photographer is going out of his or her’s way to show off that they can eat this dish of food, while you sit there and fantasize about it.

I’m a fan of Wayne Thiebaud’s paintings of various sweets.  On one level, it does make me desire to reach out and taste the painting or drawing.  On the other hand, there is something so cold about how the food is displayed in such a fashion.  It is almost like the ice creams and cakes are stand-in’s for a photograph of the Nazis in Nuremberg.  One is totally seduced in the image of a series of soldiers lined up so perfectly and so many.   Why they are there, and who they are - doesn’t make much sense, except in the visual experience of having such perfect sense of order in front of your eyes.   Food photography, from the viewpoint of a professional photographer, artist, or even more seductive, by an amateur image maker with Instagram, exposes the need for a moment or two of perfection.  I don’t think Thiebaud’s paintings are about fascism or even order, but that is how I view his work.  They’re beautiful to me.

Ironically enough I also admire the images of his daughter Twinka, who posed many times in the nude for various fine art photographers.  Like the images of beautiful food, I too have a visual need to look at her. I don’t need to know her, and even though I feel erotic feelings for her, I surely don’t need to penetrate her. In any fashion or form.  Nevertheless the eros that melts off her skin onto the viewer’s gaze is such a wonder.   On a different level looking at her images, I feel that there is a landscape that is not logical or restricted, with respect to the images of food.   There is a specific logic when you see a painting or a photo of a desert.  You can taste it if you have the imagination to do so.  I don’t think it serves any purpose beyond that the food is there, and perhaps it is used to mark a specific time in one’s life as well as for its location.  In a nutshell, Twinka gives me layers of meaning, that is hard for me to penetrate (no pun intended) -yet, I’m drawn to her beauty and the way she exposes her sensual body.   Food is also sensual, so I guess at the end of the day, we should just accept that for some, a plate of food is bliss, as well as a photograph of Twinka Thiebaud.

May 14, 2014

May 14, 2014

Lina Medina is the youngest confirmed mother in medical history.   She gave birth to a boy when she was five years old.  The boy had a natural life, but didn’t know that his mom was a mom.  For the first ten years of his life, he thought that was his sister.   He lived till he was 40, but mom is still alive and living in Peru.   When her parents brought her to a doctor, they thought she may have a tumor, but the hospital confirmed that she was seven months pregnant.  It’s very rare, but it seems Lina matured quite early in her life. There was also the big question who is the father?  It was suspected that it was Lina’s father, and he was arrested, but they found no proof that he was the actual father.  Lina either didn’t tell, or she can’t remember.  Nevertheless, her son Gerardo, who was named after the doctor who delivered the baby, had a reasonable normal life, but died from a bone marrow disease.

I first heard about the strange occurrence of Lina, while studying Lou Harrison’s music and his interest in Peru.  It is always ironic that how one can read about something else, and it will lead to another avenue or narration.  The photograph of Lina, expecting at seven months, is an image that haunts me for various reasons.  She of course, in her time, became a media darling.   A producer in America was trying to entice her with an offer of $5,000 to document her life, but she or her family didn’t give an approval.  But there is likewise a report that her doctor, had made films of Lina for scientific documentation, but either by chance or karma, the film footage was in a baggage and was dropped into the river while crossing a very primitive bridge.  So there are very few images of Lina’s pregnancy. Well, actually one still exists.

My mother had me when she was 19 years old.  So, it is my nature to take an interest in women who gave birth at such a young age.  Oona Chaplin, was also 19, when she gave birth to her daughter Geraldine Chaplin.   It must have been strange to be married to such an iconic figure and yet, your sole job, was to raise the children in that family.  Oona has always been interesting, because she is a mystery to me.   She started off her life as the daughter of the distinguished playwright Eugene O’Neill, who pretty much ignored her during her lifetime, as well as distancing himself from her and Chaplin, who he reportedly hated.   Nevertheless she was chosen as “The Number One Debutante” of the 1942-1943 season at the Stork Club in New York City.   It is a likelihood that Charlie met Oona at the Stork Club.  But history said that they met when she approached him for a role in a film, that eventually didn’t get produced - nevertheless they fell in love, and she gave up her dreams of being just an actress.   She gave birth to seven more children, with Charlie as the dad, and that was very well the twilight years for Chaplin, with respect for his film work.   The McCarthy era was a very harsh decade for people like Charlie Chaplin.   In 1954, Oona gave up her American citizenship and became a British citizen.  So, first she had to strip her ambitions to be an actress, and then eventually remove herself as an American.

As I write this, I’m also facing my Facebook page, and I decided to look up Oona and Lina.  I don’t know the family history, but there is an actress named Oona Chaplin, who I presume is the granddaughter of our Oona, as well as a page for Lina Medina!   It is just so odd that we have something like Facebook in our lives, because it attaches so many people, yet makes them one.  Today it’s Mark Zuckerberg’s birthday and ten years ago, Facebook started, and what I found interesting is that he’s color blind.  He chooses the color blue for Facebook, because it is the one color he can actually see.   Also the fact that he was born in 1984, says a lot about our culture.

February 4, 2014

February 4, 2014

I got a message from Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook fame, that I should come up north to meet him to discuss the possibility of using me as a writer for a new Facebook concept called “Paper.” I immediately arranged a flight, and went to his campus like office.  What surprised me the most is that his office is small, and it seems he didn’t have a table to work on.  

When I walked in he was watching Ferand Léger’s film “Ballet Méchanique, ” on a giant screen TV which I found odd and slightly off-putting.   He got up to shake my hand, and told me that he has a hard time following straight narratives, so he prefers experimental or artistic films.   We took a place on his couch and we both watched the silent film together.   While the images were in front of me, he told me that he really admired my series of journals that I have been posting on Facebook.  He wanted to know if I would be interested in working with him on his new project “Paper.” Since I was basically unemployed, and going slowly broke, I said sure.   It was at that point he turned around to face me directly.  He told me that Facebook is basically a landscape where things can happen, but now with “Paper” he wants programming and written out narratives for the site. 

For instance, he was fascinated how people on Facebook were reacting to the Woody Allen case.  Most probably consider this to be an old case and who cares at this point and time.  Alas, this is wrong, because a typical citizen of Facebook is very much concerned with the world around them, but they need that ‘world’ to be defined, or package in a way for people to address that specific narrative.  Or if it doesn’t have a narrative, then it must have one attached to the piece.   Another example is the unfortunate death of Philip Seymour Hoffman.  Here’s a tragic incident where a very talented actor dies before his time, but alas, there is a narrative in the works here as well.  People are under a strong opinion that he should have done something besides being a junkie.   Even though the story is not finalized, individuals are already putting their own narrative to his death.  So many issues involved here.  The never-ending process to sobriety, which is odd enough, because the very word ‘sober’ has a meaning of being serious, sensible, and solemn.  Which is nothing wrong with that, but shouldn’t there be a much better term to express fun, adventure, and enlightenment without getting smashed?

Mark and I looked back at the screen.  It’s funny thinking back that both of us while talking we were mostly looking at the movie instead of each other.   In a nutshell, Mark asked me to go through the stories of the day, and re-write them in a more entertaining style or a narrative where there is a beginning, a middle, and the end.  Mark told me “Shit happens, but not on Facebook Tosh.”  

I told him I’ll take the job.  He said cool and then called his secretary in.  She entered the office and introduced herself to me, without waiting for Mark to make the actual introductions.  “My name is Joan Vollmer, and I will be assisting you while you work on this project.” I said goodbye to Mark, and then Joan led me to my office, which like Mark’s office didn’t have a work table.  What I did have was a giant screen TV, with a DVD package near it.  It was Marcel L’Herbier’s “I’Inhumaine, ” another silent film.  

Joan said that she has been with Facebook for 10 years, and before that she was married to a writer in Mexico.  When she left the office, I put on the L’Herbier film and wondered what my life is going to be like now. 

January 4, 2013

I just got back from a week-long trip and while I was away I had a friend stay and take care of the house. But now that I am back, he's still here. I would think it would be obvious that once I return, he would leave, even on the day of my arrival. But he doesn't move an inch outside the house nor does he remove his stuff. I should have known something strange about this when he replaced my couch with his couch. He also went through my vinyl collection, and seemed to got rid of it. In its place is his collection of records. What was really disturbing to me, was that when I went to bed that night (and afterwards) he would get in bed with me like it was his own bed. I was also a little peeved that he removed all my personal artwork off the walls, and replaced them with his own paintings. And to be totally honest, I am not that crazy about his paintings. I really need my own space, so now I am thinking of moving on and getting a small apartment somewhere in West Hollywood or in the Atwater Village area.

January 3, 2014

January 3, 2014

I occasionally act in films and commercials, and through my agent I got a small part in a commercial for Sunkist Oranges. I flew into Switzerland to meet the director Jean-Luc Godard , who time-to-time has done commercial work. He's a man of few words, but once I arrived at his apartment he silently took photographs of me with a polaroid camera. He then had me sit by a table that was purchased in Ikea, and in front of me were three Sunkist oranges on a plate. As he brought out a video camera he told me to slowly peel the oranges. At first I did it too fast, and he got kind of angry and short with me. Once he replaced the peeled orange with a new one, I instinctually knew I had to peel this orange in a very seductive manner. He seemed pleased with my 'performance' and then I noticed that he had a wall of VHS tapes. What he told me is that he prefers to watch films on VHS instead of going to a movie theater or watching it on a DVD. It seems he purchases DVD's but then has them transferred to VHS. He invited me to watch a film with him, but I had to decline his nice offer, because I had to fly back home. The one thing that really stood out for me, is his eyes. He probably has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen on a human face.

January 2, 2014

January 2, 2014

I woke up around 2:AM, after an odd dream of watching myself in a movie projected at the Egyptian Theatre. I was in a scene where Jane Fonda,Charlotte Gainsbourg, and Mina Loy were talking about men, and i was just sitting at their table saying nothing. But I remember watching the film, thinking "I have no script and I don't know what I am supposed to do in this scene." I remember feeling anxiety about that, as well as being in the audience watching this film. Once woken I decided to get out of bed and wearing my red plaid PJs I went to Astro Diner down the hill from my house. I didn't feel I needed to get dressed, because one, it was in the middle of the night, and two, it's my neighborhood. I had a craving for a strawberry malt or milk shake. I haven't had one in years, and it just seemed that the moment was perfect to drink a malt by the googie-era large window facing Fletcher.

January 1, 2014

January 1, 2014

I woke up thinking that this is a new year, but alas, it feels very much like any other day. The one big difference is that I woke up in someone else's home. I haven't the foggiest idea who they are. But they seem to be nice. I went into their kitchen, and made myself a little breakfast. To my shock they only had whole wheat bread, and I'm pretty much devoted to Wonder's white bread. I did make a sandwich of sorts, but after making it, I didn't feel like eating it. So I wonder off to Ralphs super market to buy myself a loaf of Wonder's white bread. I went back to their house, but the door was locked and it seems no one was in. Luckily I found a window that was slightly opened on the second floor. I climbed up the tree, and once I got on the limb, I made a jump towards the window. Besides crashing into the glass, I was perfectly OK. And I didn't lose the grip of my loaf of bread. I went downstairs to the kitchen and made a proper sandwich.