Executive Severance Takes a Strange Turn

"I'm afraid your canary died." "He's just sleeping." "If you say so. I found him 'sleeping' under the right front wheel of your car." "Oh."

"What killed him?" "We think it was the car on top of him. We did find traces of tapioca in his beak." "Look Doc" I said "I've been set up."

"Someone wanted me brought to Body Parts R Us. They got my canary and I'm next." He laughed. "I'm not a doctor. And you're quite safe here."

"Nobody can get into Body Parts R Us without proper credentials. You don't need to worry." "You're not a doctor?" "No. I'm your concierge."

"This is a world-class hospital and a secure, cutting edge research lab. No one and nothing gets in here without our knowledge. Period."

There was a knock on the door. A teenage boy entered the room "I have an order for a large pizza and side of tapioca for room 414." he said.

"You have the wrong room" said the concierge. "This is 441." "You can leave the pizza." I said. "No. We don't allow outside food."

He turned back to me. "My job is to manage your stay and approve your payment options." "Just send any charges to my insurance company."

Another knock. A young woman leaned in and asked "Can I interest you in an assortment of money saving coupons?" "No." said the concierge.

"How do they get in here?" he said. I watched the woman leave. "I thought this was a secure location." "Well, no system is 100% foolproof."

"We submitted a bill to your insurance. Your multitasking-induced mental fugue was deemed a preexisting condition and payment was rejected."

A tall man walked in. "I'm a Nigerian prince." he said. "I'm happy to inform you that room number 414 has won $800,000 in the lottery."

I frowned at the concierge. "I'll handle this." He said. "This is 441, not 414. You have the wrong room." "So sorry." said the man and left.

The concierge watched the Nigerian prince leave and then said, "Excuse me, I need to have a word with the security guard." "Take your time."

Outside I heard him hail the prince, asking "Are you happy with your current prostate?" I decided to make the most of my momentary privacy.

A small TV hung on a metal arm next to the bed. Unfortunately, service had not been switched on. All I could get was a children's channel.

Running on a continuous loop on the children’s channel was an animated version of something called "Goldie Dinosaur and the Three Bears."

"Once upon a time" said the GD & 3Bs narrator (who sounded like Morgan Freeman) "there was a beautiful little house at the edge of the wood"

"Inside the house lived three bears: the Papa Bear, the Mama Bear and Baby Bear. One morning Mama Bear made hot porridge for breakfast."

"The cereal was too hot to eat, so the Bear family decided to walk in the woods until it cooled down." This story seemed strangely familiar.

"As the Bears disappeared into the woods, Goldie Dinosaur appeared on the path." A large reptile with long golden hair approached the house.

GD & 3Bs continued: "Goldie Dinosaur had also gone out for a walk before breakfast and the smell of porridge suddenly made her very hungry."

"Goldie Dinosaur meant to just take a small taste of porridge from one of the bowls, but she misjudged the size of the kitchen window."

"Smashing a huge hole in the wall, she swallowed all three bowls of cereal in one gulp, as well as the kitchen table and all the chairs."

"Her hunger now satisfied, Goldie blundered into the living room where a few ill-placed steps soon reduced the furniture to splinters."

"Now very sleepy, it only took Goldie Dinosaur a few short steps through the wall to where she discovered the Bear family bedroom."

"There was Papa Bear's large bed, Mama Bear's medium bed and Baby Bear's tiny bed. She lay down across all three beds and fell fast asleep."

This was somehow different from the story I knew. The narrator continued: "At this moment, the Three Bears returned from their walk."

"Papa Bear regarded the large new opening leading into the kitchen and said, 'Somebody’s been eating my porridge.'"

"Mama Bear looked at the empty space where the table and chairs had been and said, 'Somebody’s been eating my porridge.'”

"Baby Bear looked at his parents. 'What are you talking about? There's a hole in our kitchen wall and our table and chairs are gone!'"

"The Three Bears entered the living room where they surveyed the damage. 'Somebody’s been sitting in my chair' said Papa Bear."

"Mama Bear picked up a fragment of her favorite rocker. 'Somebody’s been sitting in my chair.' She said."

"'I don’t believe it!' said Baby Bear. 'Can't you see that all our furniture has been smashed to smithereens!'"

"Then the three Bears climbed through the new entrance to their bedroom. “Somebody’s been sleeping in my bed” said Papa Bear."

"Lying across the broken bed frames, Goldie Dinosaur snored peacefully. 'Somebody’s been sleeping in my bed.' said Mama Bear."

“'WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?' shouted Baby Bear 'THERE'S A HUGE GOLD-HAIRED DINOSAUR ASLEEP IN OUR BEDROOM!' At this Goldie Dinosaur woke up.”

"She was so frightened that she crashed through the wall on the opposite side of the bedroom, ran down the lane and was never seen again."

"The Three Bears decided to cut their losses. They put the house for sale as a 'fixer-upper' and went to work pushing paper products on TV."

The narrator concluded "What's the moral to our tale? Whether dinosaurs or banks or the Twitter whale, some things are too big NOT to fail."

Even More Executive Severance

"A whad?" "Many people experience a sort of tunnel vision when they talk on the phone while driving. It's called 'inattentional blindness."

"I thoughd thad odly cabe frob basterbating." "Not exactly. Its clear that human consciousness is affected by doing too many things at once"

"You were on your cell, your voice recorder, your laptop; you had a pen and pad of paper in your mouth. You went into a multitasking fugue."

"You then attempted parallel universe parking. Your mind left your body and you tried to park in two different spots at the same time."

"Ad thad caused by head idjury?" "No. The guy you cut off from the second parking space got out of his car and clocked you a good one."

It was becoming clear to me that I had been set up. "It’s luggy I wasd't pilotig ad airplade." "Yes. You might have ended up in Milwaukee."

"The good news is your car suffered minor damage. The bad news is you yourself may need some new parts. Fortunately, that's what we do."

"This is 'Body Parts R Us'?" "Yes." "Let be speag to A." "A? He doesn’t work here anymore. You also appear to have a head cold. Drink this."

I downed the clear bubbly liquid. My sinuses cleared and my cold was completely gone! Except for my slight concussion I never felt better!

"This is amazing! Was that some new experimental antiviral drug? "No. Alka-Seltzer Plus. If you lie back down, we'll prep you for surgery."

"Wait. Why are you operating?" "You can't see it, but the accident made a terrible mess of your face. We can help." "Let me have a mirror."

I looked in the mirror and didn't see anything different. "What are you talking about? This is how I've always looked." "Sorry. My mistake."

"I had a run-in with a swarm of bees. It will heal on its own." "If you say so. We still can help with your little problem..um, down there."

I pulled the sheet up higher. "What little problem? I don't have a problem. It's cold in here." "I was referring to your ingrown toenail."

"My toenail?" "Yes. What are you talking about?" "Never mind." "You know, we can help you there too. We get a lot of requests of that type."

"We started 'Body Parts R Us' to clone internal organs and enhance lives. It turns out most of our business comes from enhancing penises."

"We also replace breasts, thighs and wings. All our work is guaranteed. If you don't like your new part, return it for a full refund."

"Maybe some other time." "If not a larger penis, how about something hepatic? We have a blue plate special today on liver and bunions."

"I could slot one in for you at a very attractive price." "My liver is fine." "Our prostates are big, I mean normal size but popular."

"I'm very happy with the prostate I have." "We also do vasectomies." "No." "Tell me, what will it take to put you in a brand new model you?"

He leaned closer. "Help me out, will you? I need to meet my monthly quota." "I'm not here to be cloned. I'm investigating Granger's murder."

"Bring me my clothes so I can get out of here and make some arrests." He looked at me sheepishly. "I'm afraid I can't do that." "Why not?"

"I thought you'd be in surgery. Your clothes smelled like you fell in a vat of black orchids marinated in brine. I sent them to be cleaned."

"What about my things?" "Your cell phone, a sticky piece of note paper and what looks like tapioca are in the drawer next to your bed."

Camille Paglia Bashes Claude Levi-Strauss

In her Salon column this week Camille Paglia spared a few column inches to consider and then completely trash the entire career of Claude Levi-Strauss:

"Continuing on the theme of overrated male writers, I was appalled at the sentimental rubbish filling the air about Claude Lévi-Strauss after his death was announced last week. The New York Times, for example, first posted an alert calling him "the father of modern anthropology" (a claim demonstrating breathtaking obliviousness to the roots of anthropology in the late 19th and early 20th centuries) and then published a lengthy, laudatory obituary that was a string of misleading, inaccurate or incomplete statements. It is ludicrous to claim that Lévi-Strauss single-handedly transformed our ideas about the "primitive" or that before him there had been no concern with universals or abstract ideas in anthropology.

Beyond that, Lévi-Strauss' binary formulations (like "the raw and the cooked") were a simplistic cookie-cutter device borrowed from the dated linguistics of Ferdinand de Saussure, the granddaddy of now mercifully moribund post-structuralism, which destroyed American humanities departments in the 1980s. Lévi-Strauss' work was as much a fanciful, showy mishmash as that of Joseph Campbell, who at least had the erudite and intuitive Carl Jung behind him. When as a Yale graduate student I ransacked that great temple, Sterling Library, in search of paradigms for reintegrating literary criticism with history, I found literally nothing in Lévi-Strauss that I felt had scholarly solidity.

In contrast, the 12 volumes of Sir James George Frazer's "The Golden Bough" (1890-1915), interweaving European antiquity with tribal societies, was a model of intriguing specificity wed to speculative imagination. Though many details in Frazer have been contradicted or superseded, the work of his Cambridge school of classical anthropology (another of whose ornaments was the great Jane Harrison) will remain inspirational for enterprising students seeking escape from today's sterile academic climate."

Now you know I couldn't let that go unanswered! I posted the following comment:

Bashing Levi-Strauss? Really?

As someone who made your academic bones explicating ad nauseum the opposition between Apollonian and Dionysian, I am surprised that you so blithely dismiss Claude Levi-Strauss. To reduce his massive career to a few-sentence caricature implies that you haven't read him carefully or completely.

Even if its granted that his structural armature was a bit overwrought; even if you discount his visionary explication of Amerindian mythology; even if you deduct from his oeuvre all writings from the 1960’s onwards, at least you can grant him some props for the sense and sensibility of his Tristes Tropiques and let him rest in peace. Just sayin’.

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Claude Lévi-Strauss and Media Ecology

I recommend two excellent obituaries about Claude Lévi-Strauss, the father of Structural Anthrology, who died this past weekend. The New York Times does a good job summarizing his life and times.

The Guardian does a better job explaining the roots of Levi-Strauss' Structural Anthropology and I believe, underscoring its importance to Media Ecology. In particular, Maurice Bloch of The Guardian writes:

The basis of the structural anthropology of Lévi-Strauss is the idea that the human brain systematically processes organised, that is to say structured, units of information that combine and recombine to create models that sometimes explain the world we live in, sometimes suggest imaginary alternatives, and sometimes give tools with which to operate in it. The task of the anthropologist, for Lévi-Strauss, is not to account for why a culture takes a particular form, but to understand and illustrate the principles of organisation that underlie the onward process of transformation that occurs as carriers of the culture solve problems that are either practical or purely intellectual.

It seems to me that there is an unspoken assumption in Media Ecology that there are no differences in the intellectual capabilities of peoples of different ages or technological achievement. By this I don't mean differences in sensory balances, which may be determined by the particular technologies or media of communication available, but rather differences in the basic structure and capacity of the human mind.

When we use the terms, "oral" or "literate" or "post literate" in lieu of "primitive" or "modern", we are not referring to intellectual complexity or intelligence, but rather the modes of thought, the uses of systems of symbols and the religious, social and psychology outlooks encouraged or discouraged by a media environment. In refusing to see the people of cultures without writing (as he called them) as "primitive" or somehow inferior to Western white races, Lévi-Strauss provided the philosophical foundation for McLuhan, Postman and Ong. In a letter to the journal Technology and Culture in 1975, McLuhan acknowledged his debt to Lévi-Strauss' structural methodology for his own Laws of the Media.

If it is possible to distinguish a "primitive" mind from our own then how could we apply Marshall McLuhan's Laws of the Media universally across all cultures and time periods? We can talk about the sensory impact of different types of communication media in different eras only if we accept that the basic mental equipment and the capacity for intellectual activity we are born with has been the same throughout all human history and everywhere in the world. In his exhaustive analysis of Amerindian mythology, Levi-Strauss put the study of human culture on a scientific basis and his work belongs in our Media Ecology foundational canon along with Lewis Mumford, John Dewey and Edmund Carpenter.

Lévi-Strauss wrote:

I therefore claim to show, not how men think in myths, but how myths operate in men's minds without their being aware of the fact.

Isn't this what we Media Ecologists claim in our own studies of how symbol systems and technologies affect human beliefs and activities? Lévi-Strauss discovered and demonstrated connections between seemingly disparate mythic stories, and offered explanations for seemingly random elements of those stories. His methodology can be used as model for ways to interpret the products of our contemporary culture, which, while seeming to be unrelated, actually constitute our system (or systems) of symbolic meanings.

Rest in peace Professor Lévi-Strauss, and thank you for your life and your work.

More "Executive Severance"

"Whad differedce does it mage which hebisphere is where?" "It makes a big difference." said X "Different sides control different abilities."

"The right processes images and spatial orientation. The left controls the three 'R's, reading, writing and 'rithmetic." "Whad happeded?"

"With his left and right hemispheres switched, Granger couldn't tell his 'R's from a hole in the ground." "Did he have any other problebs?"

"He complained that his kidneys were put in backwards and his bowels were shaped like a klein bottle. He was a man under a lot of pressure."

"To sub up, A switched Gradger's braid hebispheres, screwed up his idterdal plubbing, redacted his DNDA ad you wadted to bill hib for it?"

"Hey, Granger put his pants on just like the rest of us, one leg at a time." "Dot ady bore." "Well, he should pay for services rendered."

"Subthig I still dod't udderstad. You create perfube frob coal tar idstead of whale vobit ad you wadt be to eat cucubers soaged in it?"

B looked surprised. "If I were you I'd question A about Granger's murder. He had motive and he had means." "A did't do it. I thidg you did."

"That's crazy!" ""Too bad you did't realize thad before you gilled hib." "You think I killed Granger?" "You are by dumber onde suspect."

"Why?" "Gradger would have kept A's secrets to protect his cloding lab. You hab a better chadce of collectig your bill frob his estate."

"You lost your fight with A and your cobpady is in the toilet. Gillig Gradger puts you on top at LBDD with Gradger's cash in your pocget."

"You suspect me after my proper speech and contrite demeaner?" "Yes" "And my alibi and the tapioca?" "You could hab sedt thad to yourself."

"WLL THN FCK Y Y SSHL!" Consonants again? I looked at X. "B says you'll have to speak to his lawyer from now on. And you're an asshole."

"How do I kdow B wod't go uddergroud whed I leave?" "He already is underground. I'll show
you out." "Dod't bother. I cad fid by owd way."

As I made my way to the door B sneezed several times. "GD DBBT!" He roared "V CGHT YR FCKG CLD!" "Gesudheit." I called over my shoulder.


Chapter 6: How Can You Be In Two Places At Once When You’re Not Anywhere At All?

12 hours later, reeking from perfume, covered in bee stings, ravenous and in serious need of a bathroom, I emerged from LBDD's Tunnel Tower.

There's a time in every criminal investigation when you should stop and smell the roses. I needed to stop because I smelled like roses.

Time to head home. I thought my car was missing but soon realized that it was still in the left Wright parking lot, right where I left it.

As I drove home I thought about how all the pieces had fallen into place. B's 'perfect' alibi of perfumed pickles was patently preposterous.

B knew that Rachel Lehcar would never miss one jar of her honey and that the coroner would overlook the tapioca in lieu of the severed body.

B lured Granger to a remote spot, fed him toxic honey-laced tapioca and cut his body in half. It all made sense. It was the perfect crime.

Except B forgot one thing: Granger was such a Twitteraholic that he would try to tweet a dying message. It was too bad he didn't succeed.

I had Granger's Twitter password. There still might be something to find in his online account. I pulled the paper B gave me from my pocket.

Tapioca in my pocket had gotten onto the paper, smearing most of B's writing. The letters left read 'murderir b not.' What did that mean?

My cell phone rang. With the tapioca soaked paper in one hand, I fished the cell phone from my holster while driving with my elbow. "Hello?"

"Want a tip on Granger's murder?" asked a husky voice. "Who is this?" "Got a pencil and paper?" I put the phone between my ear and shoulder.

Pulling a pad and pen from my jacket, I said "Go." "Have you got a voice recorder?" "Yes." "Take it out. You'll want a recording of this."

I put the pad and pen in my mouth and fished out my recording device. "OK." "You'll need a computer to view a website I'll give you."

My opened my laptop and set it on my lap. "Ready." "How are you at multitasking while driving?" said the voice. Not so good it turned out.

I woke in bed in a dimly lit room. I was in a hospital gown, hooked to an IV. A bandage was wrapped around my head. "Where ab I?" I asked.

A man came in. "You're awake! You had us going for a while." "Whad happeded?" "You were injured in a cell phone induced traffic event.”

Executive Severance: The Twitstery Now Has a Title!

Granger had spent his last moments tweeting and probably would be tweeting still were it not for roaming charges. Was tweeting his te deum?

Whether out of tedium or a te deum, Granger's terminal tweeting was still central to my investigation. I needed his Twitter password.

I felt hot and cool at the same time. I couldn't tell if I was shedding light on or light through my case. It was time to marshal my wits.

Just then a young woman came in. "Sorry to interrupt. Did you find the bowl of tapioca that was sent to you? I left it there on the floor."

I glared at B. He just shrugged. Wiping my foot on the rug, I asked "Who sent the tapioga?" "The note just said 'Enjoy! Signed, Anonymous.'"

I turned to B. "Do you ofted receive gifts of tapioga adodybously?" "Hell no" he replied, "I thought it was an anonymous gift of ambergris."

"Gradger ate sumb tapioga pudding just before he died. It wedt right through hib. If by suspiciobs are correct, I just saved your life."

"From pudding?" "Do. toxic hodey. Do timb to explaid. I deed to dow Gradger's Twidder password." "Why?" "I believe a follower gilled him."

"This goes to the lab for adalysis." I put what was left of the tapioca in my pocket. That was a mistake. I should carry evidence bags.

"I'll write down Granger's password." "You cad't just tell be?" "No." B spent several minutes writing and thinking and thinking and writing.

He handed me the paper which read: 'Ullhodturdenweirmudgaardgringnirurdrmolnirfenrirlukkilokkibaugimandodrrerinsurtkrinmgernrackinarockar."

"This is Gradger's password?" "Yes. He believed in using complex passwords." "You're dot gidding." I slipped the paper into my pocket.

"I hab two guestiods. Firsd, where were you Tuesday dight?" "We were here, working." "Were there witdesses?" "Is that the second question?"

"Do. Id's a follow up to the firsd questiob." "Several staffers were with us, testing our surplus perfume for use as a pickling agent."

"We're developing sweet smelling pickles. The black orchid half-sour smells promising." "Good lug with thad. Whad did you ad A fight aboud?"

"Why do you need to know why we fought?" "X told be there was sub terrible accidedt durig Gradger's last clodig tradspladt." "Yeah, so?"

"Ad that's whed you becabe so adgry at your siblings you stopped usig vowels." "So what?" "Dod't you thidg it a bit extrebe?" "Not at all."

"You know Granger funded 'Body Parts R Us' to commercialize on cloning technology and he replaced nearly every part his own body." "Yes."

"The economic downturn hit us all hard. With funding constrained, Body Parts R Us began cutting more than just corners." "Whad do you bead?"

"There's a lot of our DNA that scientists can't identify yet." "Uh huh." "The lab rats at BP'R'U just decided to leave those base pairs out"

"They used cut-rate DNDA?" "Granger thought he was getting cloned when in reality he got spliced. The cloners took him to the cleaners"

"So you fought with A ad the other vowels because they were cheatig Gradger by shortchadgig his DNDA?" "No. I didn't care about that."

"Whad bothered you?" "Granger wasn't paying for services provided. You pay plastic surgeons a lot for a little nip and tuck, right?" "Sure."

"We gave Granger the equivalent of a DNA liposuction–without charge. BP'R'U didn't want it to come out. I wanted to send him another bill."

"You said BP'R'U toog hib to the cleaders." "They also did his shopping and walked his dog. They provided many concierge services for free."

"Were there side effects frob the DNDA splicig?" "Not to speak of." said B. "That's not strickly true." said X. "Granger complained a lot."

"Granger wasn't himself after his last brain transplant." "Well, he had a dew braid afder all." "He claimed they mixed up his hemispheres."

"Granger complained his left side was seeing left and his right side was seeing right." "Odly his left side was affected?" "No, both sides."