Godard on Prozac

Here is my second-ever cinematic opus. I didn't think it worked (and that it did is arguable still, as you will know once you've seen it, if you see it, if you're brave), because it just looked like a bad photo in the folder.

Instead, it's a long string of bad photos, in a sense.

Anyway, it's from the arboretum at the University of Washington, way too early in the morning, from the same batch of photos as the one with the William Blake quote. I would have taken some stellar photos, I'm sure, however lamentable my filmmaking skills might be, but the camera still had all the old photos in it, so I ran out of space before I got to the exciting parts of the arboretum.

On the upside, apparently Nilla Wafers have a soft-cookie sandwich with filling, and I met some ducks and geese who enjoyed my gas-station impulse buy rather more than I was in the midst of my technological misadventure. Anyway, had I known I was going to run out of space I would have spared myself the artistic outpouring. Since I didn't, it's yours to savor!

Be glad I am not subjecting you to my first movie, which was from my phone and consisted of the toes of my pointy aubergine boots walking down First Avenue in Belltown. You might think it potentially difficult to pull of pointy aubergine boots; what's actually difficult is managing to walk down the street filming them with a phone and not being disturbed in the slightest by looking completely idiotic by walking while pointing a telephone at one's feet!

Anyway, it comes to a fairly shocking finale. You won't see it coming; you won't expect it in the slightest.

'And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark Satanic mills?'

The mills of Blake's time are the fields, slaughterhouses, and sweatshops of ours. And while we castigate China and others for not being the New Jerusalem, it is well to remember that there are human rights abuses, squalor, powerlessness, misery, and death here, as well. Neither China nor Iran, at least, ever commissioned a huge statue welcoming anyone to the land of liberty.

'Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!'

Clearly, immigration is a complex issue, and one not amenable to easy solutions or ready consensus. However, it is clear on the one hand that American citizens are loathe to take agricultural, sewing, or meat-processing jobs. All Maria Isabel Vasquez Jimenez was trying to do was work - and at a very low wage at that. A death sentence seems an extraordinary price to pay for being willing to do jobs few are willing or able to do. And as for her dead child, we will never know what he or she could have been, could have contributed to this country: president? rape counselor? professor? violinist? Or maybe just a decent citizen who, thankful for the rights and privileges accorded to him/her by citizenship, devotes much time to helping others less fortunate.

There is such a thing as worrying too much about everything. There is also, however, such a thing as inherent human dignity and worth - and leaving someone to die without water, shade, or personnel trained in responding to such emergencies is disgusting and unconscionable.




From the UFW website:

Maria’s Story

'On May 14, the official temperature was 95 degrees; it was even hotter inside the wine grape vineyard owned by West Coast Grape Farming, east of Stockton, where Maria and her fiancé, Florentino Bautista, worked. Maria had been working for nine hours.

At 3:40 p.m. Maria became dizzy. She didn’t know where she was and didn’t recognize Florentino. Maria passed out. Florentino helplessly held her in his arms.

There was no water for the workers from 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. When water arrived, it was a 10-minute walk from where Maria was working, too far to access. There was no shade or training for foremen and workers about what to do if someone became ill from the heat—as required by law.

The foreman came over and stood four or five feet away, staring at the couple for about five minutes. He said, "Oh, that’s what happens to people, but don’t worry. If you apply some rubbing alcohol to her, it will go away." It didn’t.

After a number of delays Maria was taken to a clinic. On the in Lodi, the foreman called on the driver’s cell phone and spoke to Florentino. “If you take her to a clinic,” the foreman said, “don’t say she was working [for the contractor]. Say she became sick because she was jogging to get exercise. Since she’s underage, it will create big problems for us.”

They arrived at the clinic at 5:15 p.m., more than an hour and a half after Maria was stricken. She was so sick an ambulance took her to the hospital. Doctors said her temperature upon arrival was 108.4 degrees, far beyond what the human body can take.

Maria’s heart stopped six times in the next two days before she passed away on Friday.

Doctors said if emergency medical help had been summoned or she had been taken to the hospital sooner, she might have survived.

It is hard for Maria’s family and her fiancé, Florentino, to accept her death, knowing it could have been prevented.

Florentino, said, “There should be justice for what happened. It wasn’t just. It wasn’t fair what they did.”

The grief that fills our hearts today inspires our work tomorrow. Your donation today can help us send a strong message to the governor and lawmakers and prevent future tragedies.'

'And did the Countenance Divine

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?'