Michael Pollan’s plant-based dreams and much more!Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ 
James Pillion
 

MY FAVOURITE THINGS | Unfinished Sympathy

β€œCoffee and tea, which have amply demonstrated their value to capitalism in many ways, not least by making us more efficient workers, are in no danger of prohibition, while psychedelicsβ€”which are no more toxic than caffeine and considerably less addictiveβ€”have been regarded, at least in the West since the mid-1960s, as a threat to social norms and institutions.”

β€” MICHAEL POLLAN
 

Getting older breeds a certain strain of cynicism. One that seeps into the pores witnessing history repeat itself on the nightly news. Yet every now and then small miracles come along that disturb the doubt. When my sister breathlessly shared news of Nedd Brockmann’s record-breaking run a couple weeks back I fell back on my skepticism. What kind of maniac traverses the Australian interior on foot in 45 days? Watching his story put my ego in check. The last time I ran a half-marathon I was out of action for months. This Aussie Forrest Gump completed 50 marathons in 50 consecutive days all in the name of raising attention and dollarydoos for charity. The 23 year-old tradie made me believe again, reminding that true change is wrought by those willing to put one foot in front of the other.

 

This Is Your Mind On Plants πŸ“š

It had never crossed my mind that opium, caffeine and mescaline (the subjects of Michael Pollan’s new book) were the byproduct of survival, an ingenious way for each plant to ward off predators by way of a bad trip. Perhaps I’m showing my age but I’ve been most fascinated by the chapters on coffee, a stimulant that ushered in β€˜enlightened’ rationality into societal discourse by welcoming the Apollonian aspects of human nature. You only need to stroll through any given city centre to realize how vital it has been in keeping the global engine ticking over. The discovery also left me stumped to admit that the great majority of us have never enjoyed a baseline existence free from some plant-based stimulant.

β€œIn a famous experiment conducted by NASA in the 1990s, researchers fed a variety of psychoactive substances to spiders to see how they would affect their web-making skills. The caffeinated spider spun a strangely cubist and utterly ineffective web, with oblique angles, openings big enough to let small birds through, and completely lacking in symmetry or a center. (The web was far more fanciful than the ones spun by spiders given cannabis or LSD.)” β€” Michael Pollan
 

Triangle of Sadness πŸŽ₯

As a birthday present to myself I travelled interstate to enjoy some advance screenings of next year’s Oscar contenders. While keen to lay eyes on Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun (a glorified student film) and Todd Field’s TΓ‘r (a dense exploration of power in the age of cancel culture) they were eclipsed by Ruben Γ–stlund’s third feature. I haven’t laughed so hard, and so often, since Larry Charles’ Borat some fifteen years ago. The Swedish filmmaker captures the complexities of 21st Century capitalism through the guise of uber wealth and the mindless decadence that it brings. That Γ–stlund has the gall to evoke a modern facsimile of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies in the third act is why this comedy of errors will age like a fine Bordeaux.
 

The Presidents (ft. Louis C.K) πŸ“»

This measured profile on Shane Gillis, an American comedian I’d never heard of, turned me onto his recent Live at Austin special. The refreshingly candid routine, ruined by the incessant and shallow guffaws of the crowd, turned me onto his Secret podcast and this laidback chat with Louis C.K. on America’s dead presidents. Gillis is a spitting image of C.K, a likeness that carries into his understated delivery onstage. They also share the social stigma of having been β€˜cancelled’. There’s something so bloody refreshing in getting a history lesson from comedians, working professionals who intuitively know the value of your time. My favourite kind of history lesson.

 

Team America World Police πŸŽ₯

There’s something so refreshing about art built on bad taste. From the opening scene, Trey Parker and Matt Stone gleefully obliterate any semblance of political correctness as a team of gung-ho commandos effectively decimate Paris in the pursuit of a Jihadi cell. The Peter Pan duo behind Baseketball, South Park and The Book of Mormon must have had the time of their lives bringing this schlock live-action puppet fare to bear. While this 2004 release would not have enjoyed such notoriety in the fractious climate of present day politics, its irreverent take on George Bush’s America, post Iraq invasion and WMD debacle, succeeds in inducing a serious case of the giggles.
 

99 Originals πŸ–₯

I never thought I’d find myself enamoured by a YouTube star. Especially one whose bad behavior in the forests of Aokigahara left a sour taste in just about everyone’s mouth. While I’d never given Logan Paul the time of day, I was sincerely taken by his curious spirit and insatiable thirst for adventure. I especially loved that he’d snagged Timothy Leary’s California LSD ranch too. The premise of this series, following the adventures behind the creation of 99 polaroid images over 99 days, is genuinely inspired. While some of Paul’s hare-brained antics had me shaking my head in wonder it did inspire me to add some new travel destinations to my bucket list.
 

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider πŸŽ₯

There’s something so infectious, and surprisingly prescient, about this 2001 adaptation. A whip-smart woman with rare talents (and an acerbic wit) must save the world from some bad eggs. Did I mention she’s drop-dead gorgeous to boot? Angelina Jolie spearheads this action-adventure dramedy with one helluva two-piece costume and toff accent as contrasted against a baby-faced Daniel Craig as a Mason-Dixie Yank. It also features the inspired casting of Jon Voight as (you guessed it) Jolie’s long-lost Papa (talk about a Freudian slip). Simon West directs the hell out of this international caper, infusing some sexual tension into the mix. A throwback to when films could entertain and turn you on all at the same time.  
 

Brando for Breakfast πŸ“š

Anna Kashfi is not your typical scorned lover. The Indian-born actress, whose debut film auspiciously brought her to Hollywood, was one classy lady. While her assessment of Marlon Brando as a husband and father is far from glowing, it offers a vivid portrait of a man at war with himself. A self-professed shit-stirrer whose singular talents in front of the camera had a profound effect on breathing complexity into the profession. His stellar work, particularly in the hands of Elia β€˜Gadge’ Kazan (On The Waterfront is untouchable), would largely reshape the next batch of Hollywood stars. While I savoured the sordid details of his storied career and contrarian nature, its tragic effect on their only son Christian Devi Brando tore me in two.

β€œPain makes man think. Thinking makes man wise. Wisdom makes life endurable.” β€” Marlon Brando
 

Moore’s Law for Everything πŸ—ž

Sam Altman’s conversation with Ezra Klein left the engine idling. For those unfamiliar with the Silicon Valley big-whig, Altman is the founder and former president of Y Combinator, the King Kong of venture capital funds, and the current CEO of Open AI. Like Altman, I truly believe the next few decades will permanently affix our dependency to the algorithm. Just look at how the smart phone has inveigled its way into the minutiae of our personal and professional lives (I’d be lost without mine). What gives me pause is just how childishly naive the multi millionaire is to AI’s pernicious side-effects on the primal coding of our lizard brain which remains unchanged from the days of our hunter-gatherer ancestors. 

β€œIn the next five years, computer programs that can think will read legal documents and give medical advice. In the next decade, they will do assembly-line work and maybe even become companions. And in the decades after that, they will do almost everything, including making new scientific discoveries that will expand our concept of β€œeverything.” - Sam Altman
 

The Last Temptation of Christ πŸŽ₯

As I near the end of my PhD, a dissertation exploring the origins and evolution of redemption in cinema, I found myself seeking out Martin Scorsese’s love letter to Christianity. While I’d consciously avoided this film for yonkers, I was duly impressed with its refreshingly humane depiction of Jesus of Nazareth. It isn’t hard to see why this film, based on the book by Nikos Kazantzakis, stirred the hornet’s nest in 1988. Which is half the reason to seek it out. That, and the inspired casting of Willem Dafoe’s disciples. Harvey Keitel as a flaming red-headed Judas, John Lurie as James (his Fishing With John episode with Dafoe is too good) and Harry Dean Stanton as Paul. Yet it’s David Bowie’s cameo as Pontius Pilate that takes the cake.  
 

The Century Of The Self πŸ“Ί

David Cronenberg’s A Dangerous Method turned me back onto Adam Curtis’ stellar four-part BBC series and left me feeling a lot like Neo (post red pill) in The Matrix. While there are so many fascinating personalities to level the blame at, Sigmund Freud’s nephew is my personal favourite stool pigeon. As Ted Gioia’s recent newsletter makes plain, Eddie Bernays not only single-handedly invented the rise of public relations but the engineering of consent. The second half of the series is particularly poignant, an illustration of how capitalism deftly subverted the counter culture by giving us exactly what we craved and crippling us in the process. The inexorable rise of the individual, a metastasizing presence on the West at the time of my arrival in the late-eighties now reigns uncontested across the world at large.
 

Loretta Lynn πŸ‘€

Sissy Spacek’s emotional farewell to Loretta Lynn in the wake of her recent passing left me dwelling on her performance from Michael Apted’s heartwarming film Coal Miner’s Daughter. How her delicate voice, coupled with fiery lyrics, forged a singular talent. One need look no further than her hit single You Ain’t Woman Enough, inspired by a real-life event of catching her husband in flagranto with another woman. Much like contemporary Dolly Parton, Lynn came up on the wrong side of the tracks, a fact that kept her ego in check to the very end. This NY Times op-ed by Hanif Abdurraqib helped me to see the obvious. To accept that my fascination stemmed from her ability to love herself, warts and all.

β€œI loved Loretta Lynn because I grew up listening to women who sang songs about no-good men, or the no-good world, but were never at the mercy of anyone or anything.” - Hanif Abdurraqib
 

Veedon Fleece - Van Morrison 🎢

I accepted a new job last month, overseeing the content division of an e-sports company, a position that promises to return me to Europe in the coming weeks. Van Morrison has been a spiritual salve, a life raft in a raging torrent of new challenges and responsibilities. While I’d never heard this 1974 LP from cover to cover, its mellifluous energy has replenished my soul, and had me returning over and again. As this wonderful little write-up offers, the album is an ode to new love, composed on a vacation with his new fiancΓ©e Carol Guida during a vacation to the Emerald Isle. The lion’s growl of Morrison’s baritone perfectly complements the fragile urgency of falling in love again.

 

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WRITING | @jamespillion
FILM | @jamespillionfilm

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Bondi, NSW,
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