Justin's Links

clemensmiley

I'm staying with friends who have a kid. You can see what I have to put up with:

Green like Grasshopper

Thursday tested successfully for my green belt in Aikido - 5th kyu. When you first walk in to a class off the street, they hand you a white belt. When you've spent 40+ days training and you know irimi nage from kotegaeshi, you demonstrate your knowledge in front of your peers and then you have a rank. The bottom rank, of a long climb.

It took me a year. I made friends there, people I enjoyed training with. At the head of the dojo is an excellent teacher with an irrepressible sense of humor; he's attracted and supported a crew of like minds who roll around together weekly.

I spent the eve of my birthday there; people in white robes sang to me. After I became single late last year, sensei mentioned, "you sure are spending a lot more time at the dojo these days."

While I was there, they started a class called "inner aikido" where they study meditation and breathing. I attended that class with a number of men from an air force base nearby. I attended another class with a group of ex-Gang guys from LA, involved with HomeBoy Industries. NFL players and puppeteers, painters and guitarists. I trained at 6.30am in January for four days. I baked cookies twice and took them to class.

And all the while, dancing, smiling, breathing. I haven't had any kind of regular exercise in my adult life (aside from twitching); this exercise came with community and a kind of spiritual ethic. I could walk to this dojo through a park from my old Oakland home. Now my green belt comes with a pending departure; I wonder what kind of practice I'll find in Los Angeles?

Thanks to Julia and Liebe, some photos of my test:

I passed, thanks in large part to the patience of my training partners, in particular Candace. She tested earlier that week for the last brown belt level before black. Her test was longer, and more complicated; it included two people in constant motion, coming at her with different attacks. Her eyesight is worse than mine; she said she used to freeze up when she saw the blurred bodies moving towards her. At the urging of Nikki, she took off her glasses for the test and helped those bodies to the floor with something more than plain sight.

night golfing by phone

Current mode of living - homeless, with friends. I see people I know brushing their teeth.

Driving free, guest bed surfing between San Francisco and Los Angeles, my mobile technology means more to me than usual. Day to day, can't predict where I'm going to sit to work. Have started taking notes in public. Accidental celibate.

And continue mobile cartooning:

click for meaning.

The golfing cartoon inspired by an athletic outing with Yu-sama - he didn't hit me that hard for yakking on the links.

Pren Passed

My Dad passed away when I was eight. By the time I was a teenager, I wondered, who was that guy?

I made my questions known widely enough, and a family friend, someone who knew my Dad and knew my Mom and knew my stepdad George decided to get me some answers. He contacted two dozen or so friends of Wesley Hall, and pulled together a collection of their letters. My Dad loved Duke Ellington and would watch him whenever he played in Chicago, staying up all night. He listened to country music and represented country music stars in his legal work. And on and on. An invaluable recollection for a boy too young to know or remember.

What a fine idea! What thoughtful execution. I was honored. The person responsible was Prentice Marshall, a judge in Illinois, resident of Florida in a later life, always a die-hard Chicago Cubs fan. A tall, skinny guy I remember with reddish hair maybe? Definitely a big generous spirit and sense of humor.

Pren passed away this week. I read through a few of his obituaries, SunTimes, Daytona Beach News-Journal, NYTimes (reg. required), and I found he was thoughtful and ethical in other contexts as well. A fellow admirer of Clarence Darrow.

Mom was going to his funeral, she reported that he left strict instructions on the five guys he wanted to have give speeches, and the music that was to play at his memorial service. As someone with a lifelong dedication to the Chicago Cubs, and who would only have left being a judge to be commissioner of baseball, he asked they play "take me out to the ball game."

House for Sale

Spanish mediterranean on tree-lined storybook street. Freshly painted 2/1 & plus room downstairs. Beautiful hardwood floors, with burning fireplace, quaint features & accents. Deck overlooks secluded creek. Great family neighborhood. Walk to Glenview shops, parks, public transit.

3914 Canon Avenue, Oakland, CA 94602 See the listing , photos, recent history.

Last open house this Sunday, 1-4pm.

Links.net Backlash Takes Toll

The Apparently unstable Hall here weilds a knife, brutalizing an onion before the photographer, Junko.

Family, Friends Concerned for Wandering Web Writer

The alleged "Links.net Liar" Justin Hall, last seen leaving his Oakland home in a black car, has turned up in Southern California, undergoing rehabilitation for a life of priviledge and media saturation. "He's just lost his voice," insisted one friend, on condition of anonymity. "Writing in the third person has robbed him of his identity."

Reports of a nefarious cover-up continue to dog Hall, even as his regular writing on the web has died down. Heated debates continue over the recent charges of misleading a web-public, with lurid tales of a wealthy upbringing adding weight to the allegations. Many have pinned down Hall as a feckless shill for the techno-trust-fund set, preaching liberation while surviving on the toil of others.

New media analyst Bill Poncette muses about Hall's capacity for personal revelation: "Justin Hall tells all, EXCEPT for the strange concealment of that constellation of family wealth, connections, and special privilege that enables his particular life-presentation." Rumors that Michael Moore has been seen canvassing Northern California, interviewing Hall's friends and neighbors on camera, have no basis in fact.

While the depths of his deception are still being plumbed, the sense of alienation of his readers only grows, leading to a growing exodus from his links. Overbite writes, "Since I used to read Justin Hall to learn stuff, I too felt a little ripped off when the extent of his invention, or concealment at least, became clear."

Meanwhile, the Hall-backlash has begun to take its toll on the web writer. Today friends report a broken young man. Previously known to be energetic and unrestrained, Hall has recently been seen standing still and listening in conversation. Sources close to Hall say that his friends and family are urging him to cancel travel and take the summer to gather his strength. They worry that Hall's plans to settle in Los Angeles could result in more expansive fabrications and more access to excess.

Few have witnessed the sordid saga of Hall's travel and media binges as thooughly as his neighbor Oliver. Somehow speaking without fear of reproach from the seemingly unhinged writer, Oliver recounts Hall as "living the life of Riley." Associates believe that a wealthy upbringing and a life of priviledge has gotten the better of him; analyst Osm believes that Hall "suffers from delusions of granduer. The guy's doctor could write a textbook based on his disorders."

Ethan's candid photo of Hall, wearing an apron, preparing to undergo a guided EyeToy therapy at an exclusive Los Angeles New Age Psychological Healing Venue: the E3 Expo.

Questions surrounding Hall's need for medical care are nothing new. Late last year, readers of his weblog were treated to a rude surprise when photographs of an unseemly ailment were posted on the front page, as Hall asked passing visitors to diagnose him. Other photos of his swollen genitalia and deranged expression lead some to question his sanity. Dear friends diagnosed him with Asperger's Syndrome, as Hall adamantly refused treatment. Now it appears the thin threads animating Hall, the very connections he has to the cosmic puppeteer, they have been cut - leaving the scrawny youth in a slovenly pile of silence, withdrawn into priviledge and consumption.

Family wealth, connections and special priviledge are likely behind sightings of Hall at several parties in Los Angeles. Research by off-duty investigative journalists have revealed that Hall had no invitations to any of the few parties he attended during last week's "E3" video game event. At each event, Hall could be seen scheming and gesturing near the front entrance, often unbelievably winning entry for himself and friends.

Once inside, several party-goers noticed Hall availing himself liberally of all the food and drink available there, often loading up on handfuls of canapes as the waiters attempted to move the hors d'oeuvres past him. A sense of entitlement is the only rational explanation for Hall's decision one night to shed his pants and shirt and dive into a swimming pool in his underwear, during an otherwise decorous gathering of game industry editors.

The circumstances of Hall's upbringing are now under scrutiny: inner-city private schools, exotic trips, thrice-weekly psychotherapy appointments from the age of 8. Bicycles, books and personal computers - Hall had it all, but never had enough love. Eager for attention from a young age, Hall hijacked the education of his peers with performances and disruptions during school. Outside of school Hall consorted with some of the most notorious computer brigands on the BBSes of suburban Chicago.

Now Hall seems to have leveraged his priviledged access to culture and education, and his wealth-endowed self-confidence, into a tenuous career as a barely professional writer. Many are now questioning Hall's ethics. Is he a proud media-making peer for all people of the world? Or is he a specious apologist for techno-capitalism? Uncomfortable with ambiguity and unsure of the shifting truth behind this web charlatan, Links.net readers continue to work to piece together Hall's identity and pry back the boards that enclose Hall in a closet filled with his own unfashionable fabrications.

Continuing his defiant silence, Hall himself refused comment.

Web Site Founder Flees Mounting Scandal

Today, Justin Hall refused to take questions on the scandal that has engulfed his personal work on the web. Amidst allegations that he has fabricated his life, the embattled Hall today ducked into a black car leaving Oakland for Los Angeles. The controversy threatens to overshadow his recent work to reinvent himself as a graduate student and resident of Southern California; some independent media analysts are now claiming that his plans to attend grad school and move to Los Angeles are actually premeditated concoctions.

Hall's late application to grad school and too-rapid closing of his Oakland estate are leading observers to highlight the chronological impossibility of events Hall details on his personal web site, "Justin's Links." Citing application deadlines, researcher Stan Hodgson writes, "What must have happened is that Mr. Hall applied by January 30, and then began posting on the graduate school topic at a much later date, most likely after he'd been admitted, but AS IF he were still contemplating applying. Certain decisions about the house were likely made and concluded far in advance of the posting, if it is indeed the case that he is moving and selling the house."

Hall's web site "Justin's Links" has a reputation for honest personal disclosure, as Hall has spent ten years sharing what has appeared to be his innermost thoughts, physical sensations and pending experiences. Now it appears that Hall may have been weaving nothing but a web of lies. Weighing recent evidence and using measured language, Hodgson remarks: "Mr. Hall's recent posts on this site suggest a greater than normal divergence between lived experience and the blogged representation."

Experts are just now unraveling what some call a premeditated pattern of deceit surrounding Hall's recent announcement of plans to sell his home and attend school. In a possible attempt to hide evidence, Hall emptied his Oakland home of five years, splitting his records between multiple vehicles that were today dispatched from that location, bearing their contents to undisclosed California storage facilities.

The crisis threatens to undermine years of good will from websurfers, who had been lead to believe that Hall was telling the truth about his life online. James, a frequent commenter on Links.net, posted this remark in response to the allegations: "I've often wondered whether there was not a great deal of artifice in Justin's apparently casual and offhanded (and apparently uncensored) manner of describing his life." In the days since the scandal broke, a growing number of voices online have joined James in calling for an official investigation of or explanation from the elusive Hall.

Hall was seen at an In-N-Out Burger in Kettleman California, seemingly oblivious to the growing scandal, and calls for him to reveal the true story behind Justin's Links. A observer noticed Hall in a corner booth, eating a double cheeseburger and deleting spam on a laptop hooked up to a mobile phone.

Experts are not yet agreed on Hall's motivation for faking a life online. But it appears that this callow youth might have finally have tipped the scales of truth, as investigators could have enough evidence to indict Hall on charges of false honesty.

Claiming "travel and deadlines," Hall himself could not be reached for comment.

Writer with Drinks

This Saturday, tomorrow, I'll be reading travel writing aloud in good company - Writers with Drinks, organized by Charlie. Charlie gave me some fine billing: "He will tie your brain in knots, then use it as his hammock."

At The Make-Out Room 3225 22nd. St., San Francisco CA, from 7:30 PM to 9:30 PM, doors open at 7 PM.

how are you coming?

"how is that piece coming?"

Well I just found out Wednesday that I have to move out of my house of five years by Saturday. And Sunday I drive from Oakland to Los Angeles. So I should be able to get the book chapter/article edited/written up by Monday, as promised.

But it will be a push.

Wednesday was Cinco de Mayo. I went out alone, wandering International Boulevard in Oakland for some Mexican food. Isn't this what LA looks like? Wide boulevards and small businesses. I found two of the best stuffed chile rellenos I've had in recent memory, and my recent memory is stuffed with chile rellenos. Then this morning I woke up with an immense surging in my rear end - I spent the morning holding my buttcheeks together as I taped up boxes and filled them with books and games.

I had help - Wydela, part of the real estate cleaning crew who signed up for extra packing duty. Working with her gave me a chance to practice the most basic Swahili - nothing compared to having my brother exercise his Kenya language memory on the phone from London.

And Sean drove down from Davis on his way to other errands. He plans to go to Japan soon; I urged him not to plan a return.

What was a sprawling mess here has been diminished and shoved into two score boxes. I feel lighter somewhat, but unlocking the door this evening after watching House of Games at Compound I, there was some lingering future sense of amputation. Homeless soon, wandering the Bay to stay with friends. Lacking the surroundings of media clutter I've built for myself, my steeping environment. What comes then? Still I'm mostly tempted by that teeming adventure - "where will I sleep tonight?" can make for odd, entertaining bedfellows.

I told a friend that my June trip to the MidEast is sizing up to be Jordan and Israel, maybe Lebanon, but maybe not. I'm thinking more Bedouin than Beirut. Why? he asked. Why go to the Middle East?

Because I compulsively consume media - the New Yorker, the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Wall Street Journal, constantly keeping up with their sense of the situation in Iraq. And I feel increasingly distanced from the human reality of people who live in that part of the world. "Arab/Muslim antipathy towards the United States" looms large in my mind. I want to have a better handle on it.

Justin, he replied evenly, you understand more about the mindset of the Middle East than you do about the 50% of the United States that is Evangelical Christian. You know less about them, and their opinions are shaping more of world events.

I'm surrounded by provocative people. "this is a dude who practically accosts strangers on the street to ask them what he should do with his life" - modesty verve. Some amusing comments.

Right, write, second to last night in bed.
Oakland was beautiful tonight, love, driving on his tail end
I was free to see the lights
industry, city
a low hanging moon
full of heat to come

day starts with a doorbell

okay

turned in my grad school applications Monday
I leave Sunday to drive down to LA, for E3
a stack of pending writing there for TheFeature.com
and editing book chapters for Mimi

That's enough to do

And plan a trip to the Middle East, next month.

That's almost overwhelming! But

I'm moving to LA in August. That means the house I live in is going on the market. NEXT WEEK

For the last two weeks most weekday mornings have started with a doorbell - cleaners, landscapers, termite inspectors, termite removers, real estate agents, other real estate agents, real estate agent associates of real estate agents. Phone calls from real estate agents.

Just now, nearly eleven AM - I should really be listing my old crap for sale on Craig's List and putting books in boxes

(a month ago, I was looking forward to years living in Oakland)

But instead I'm writing out a roasted cauliflower recipe for a friend. And updating my web site:

Eleven AM today I get a call from my agent - the truth is dawning, I should really move out. By Sunday. It's Wednesday. Four days to pack or dispose of five years accumulated Justin. Hah!

(a month ago, I was looking forward to years living in Oakland - now I'm moving out by mid-May)

This will give us time to polish, paint and clean. Sell the house for more money. I'm going to move out anyhow, why not move out right now?

Anyone want to come over and help me pack? I'm serious. I'll feed you and pay you. You can take some of my possessions for your own.

Here's my home/office phone number, good until Sunday: +1-510-336-1199. If you want to fly here to help, I'm happy to use some of my United Airline miles to help the travel. You can crash on my futon, until someone takes it away.

applying myself

Yesterday I posted my application for the Interactive Media program in the USC School of Cinema and Television. Here's a version of my grad school application online.

I asked Howard to write a letter of recommendation for me:

"...I will write a letter for you. I need to decide on a metaphor. Are you a wild and mighty river and school is the dam that will tame your power? Or are you a strong and unconquered bull and school is the sausage factory that will bring your nutrient to the masses?"

MayDay's

MayDay's	The day between April and May 2004 took me from Oakland to San Francisco to Los Gatos to Oakland to Marin. Good friends, varied custom and wide driving around this beloved Bay.
	I asked if I could cook for Bettina, Willem and Larry. I roasted two chickens, baked Mom's cuban sweet potatoes and mixed a salad with carrot-ginger dressing. I experimented with an oven rack - the chicken breasts were cooked to moist perfection, and then legs were completely raw. Ooops - they were tolerant people though. I sped to finish Free Culture before I went over there for dinner. It wasn't hard - it was an engaging read, and I felt like sending copies to each and every friend I have who is making media. Using video and musical tools to tell stories has been expensive; the copyright system was designed to police that. Now anyone with a modern computer can make videos or music, and spread them widely. Should normal folks be policed by their software, with rules set by media barons, to keep them on the right side of the law? Stuff like "Digital Rights Management" takes all the gray area out of personal, moral decisions on copyright and sharing media, and the gray area is where I do most of my best work. Think "region-encoding on steroids." I'm not excited to see these technologies in place; I hope this book can help spur a deeper dialog with more participants. But this was the weekend - dinner's conversation had more to do with casual culture and life details not anything revolving around the collapse of populist culture in the face of corporate clamp-downs on online personal media sharing.
	Julian Dibbell was in town, just before departing on his cross-country drive. He chronicled his time travelling on PlayMoney, referring to Flying J, like the truck-stop. Here, Julian and I pose with Willem, wearing a plastic frog bib that caught all his spilled food for recycling. He was at dinner, along with Erik Davis. Both of them are writers; Erik is working on a range of books and projects, studying music, architecture and technology. Fun work! It puts him in touch with a broad range of what the world has to offer.
	I left their house Saturday May 1, to drive down to visit Brenda, in the forested mountains above Silicon Valley. Northern California spread around me on the either side.
	So I took photos over the valleys and soft contoured hills. Howard once told me these mountains were sculpted so round by 50,000 years of gophers chewing up the earth and rock. I like to run a fast-motion video of that in my mind, busy chewing rodent teeth as I stare at the buxom hills.
	Brenda holds a birch rod up to salute the un-tied Maypole.
	My first Beltane, MayPole celebrating on MayDay - old Western spiritual tradition to celebrate the coming of summer, by circling and intertwining the red and white strands. The red stands for blood, and the white stands for semen. I hope to see those comingling in my year ahead, I said. Watch that generative urge, Brenda cautioned.
	From Brenda's, I stopped by Chris and Jen's house for a BBQ with naked children playing in a plastic pool. Here a clothed Clementine sits on Chris's knee, as the two of them regard friend Armand. While I was there, my brother called. He lives in London, but he was on a speedy surprise trip to the Bay Area. Was I free for dinner? My expression receiving that call was probably much like Clementine's here.
	From Chris and Jen's I went to visit Howard in Marin; he was in the company of a few Aula veterans visiting from Finland: Ulla, Jyri and Alexi, here standing in Howard's yard. Howard is holding up a branch of the plum tree that Brenda gave him to plant many years back.
	Jyri and Ulla stand at the top point of Coyote Ridge, near Mount Tamalpais, in the midst of a two hour hike, talking about the mobile lifestyle, noodles fashioned from beef in Ulan Bator, Jyri's grandfather the painter and local flora and fauna.
	After a hike in Marin and dinner with Judy at the delicious First Crush in Mill Valley, I joined my brother at the Clift Hotel in San Francisco. He likes to meet and talk in noisy places. I find that odd sometimes. This picture was taken the next day, at my house in Oakland, where I finally ended up Saturday night after wide wandering. It was nice of him to drop by; I gave him an extended show & tell from my archives.

0404 Links.net Stats

Web usage statistics for Links.net, April 2004.

tell your friends to vote

Many of my friends are politically engaged this year. They hosted Howard Dean parties. They're reading and writing about politics, giving money to candidates. They've joined the Panty Protest with the Axis of Eve.

I'm excited for two things, myself:

One, the 2004 Republican Convention in New York City could be as momentous as Chicago 1968. Four months in advance, people are gearing up to express loads of pent up feelings, about war, about terror, about fear. If they're as creative and entertaining as the Axis of Eve, the streets of New York City should resemble a giant street carnival. If they're too angry and they won't stay confined to authorized "free speech zones" set up in New Jersey, it may resemble Seattle 1999. A friend who lives in Manhattan asked me for the dates of the convention (August 30 - September 2) and promptly booked travel during that time.

The other thing I'm excited for? Or at least tickled by: the conservative Heritage Foundation has drafted Ed Meese for a third party run (video). From the press release: "calling the administration's war in Iraq 'the biggest market distortion in the history of humankind' and 'crony corporate welfare on a truly gigantic scale.'" Maybe pissed-off free-market Republicans will join my panty-proud friends in the New York? Dancing in the streets.

Mom reminds me, for all the partying, kvetching and media making, the important thing is to vote, and to tell your friends to vote.

digital photos from Iraq

Soldiers bring guns and maybe attack or reconstruct a country. All along they've got their cameras, and they're human and curious and so they take pictures. And some pictures look like fun, human record of personal experience and an attempt to contextualize and understand something so totally bizarre as the rolling war machine and your part in it and the people you're fighting with you can't talk to. Some pictures look like exploitation, where the people pictured weren't comfortable or willing.

Seeing glimpses of a war in progress through the eyes of a young soldier: on TheFeature.com. I wonder if the people administering the war are happy to have their soldiers carrying cameras?