Benjamen Walker's Theory of Everything - The things we do for money

Episode Date: October 31, 2015

Allen Ginsberg tries his hand at Market Research,  Walter Benjamin goes on the radio and ToE’s Chris drops in on a new bar in DC called the Freedom Cock. Also visit radiotopia.fm and become a sustaining member today! image: Celeste Lai

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Episodes every other week at neverpo.st and wherever you find pods. You are listening to Benjamin Walker's Theory of Everything. This installment is called The Things We Do for Money. Allen Ginsberg had decided that he wanted to become a poet, but of course being a poet didn't pay anything. So he had to have jobs. Bill Morgan was Allen Ginsberg's archivist and biographer. Allen tried everything. He tried being a dishwasher. He was fired. He tried working in a ribbon factory in Patterson. He was fired.

Every job he wasn't cut out for. But at one point, he got a job, a temporary job in market research. He was pretty good at that because he knew about words and their meanings, and he always joked that one of his earliest jobs required him to do a survey to find out whether people wanted Ipana toothpaste to make their teeth bright or luxurious. And he determined that people didn't want luxurious teeth because it reminded them of fur, and nobody would want furry teeth. So Ipana then used the term bright for their commercials. But through that knowledge of working in market research, Alan really was able to then proselytize, if you will, the beat generation later on.

In his book, The Typewriter is Holy, Bill Morgan tells the story of how the beat generation came to be. Ginsburg's knowledge of market research enabled him to take the media's crass generalizations of what he and his friends Jack Kerouac and William Burroughs were doing and create powerful legends and myths. Allen Ginsberg always embraced the term beat generation, whereas most of his friends and the other writers didn't. In fact, a lot of them deny that they were ever part of the beat generation. Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Snyder, Jack Kerouac certainly didn't like what happened with the term beat, and so everyone else

wanted to get away from that term. Burroughs certainly never thought he was a member of any generation, beat or otherwise. But Allen really realized that a group of writers working together could make a bigger splash in the world, had a better chance of getting published, and therefore a better chance of getting their word and therefore a better chance of getting their word out if they worked together as a group. So when the media began using the term beat generation, Allen didn't run away from it. He always brought his friends along, and he said, well, you're going to have me. Why not have Gregory Corso, and why not have William Burroughs on the same bill? Remember, it was Alan who got William Burroughs' first book

published, and it was Alan who took copies of On the Road Around to publishers in a knapsack, trying to get them interested originally. He always was based in the literature, but it certainly didn't hurt him that he knew how to approach publishers and how to talk to magazine editors. He was really a genius at working with the media in that way, and I think a lot of it stems from market research. When Benjamin very famously was denied a professorship in the mid-1920s, he found himself in need of money. Walter Benjamin is one of the most important intellectual figures of the 20th century. His writings forever changed the course of philosophy, literary theory, and media studies.

But in the mid-1920s, when his friend Ernst Schoen was the director of a Frankfurt radio station, Walter Benjamin went on the radio. He made what he called listening models. So these listening models were short plays, short stories in which he was trying to help people learn how to do things to help themselves in their everyday lives. Sadly, there's no audio of Walter Benjamin we can listen to, which is tragic

because it would be amazing to hear these in his own voice, especially the one about how to ask your boss for a pay raise. It's very strange, though, because, you know, one thinks of Benjamin the revolutionary Marxist. How do we reconcile that with Benjamin, the guy who comes on the radio to help people, in a sense, reconcile themselves to their place in alienated capitalism. This is Lisha Rosenthal. She's an independent researcher who recently translated Walter Benjamin's radio essays, plays, and listening models into English. Verso is the publisher of Radio Benjamin, and last year we did an event at their space in Brooklyn. My first question for Lisha was, what was Walter Benjamin doing on the radio?

The comments that he gave about it at the time really suggest that he did it just for the money. You know it's interesting that he famously said that because for someone who was so excited and so committed to the possibilities of new technologies and new media, it seemed like this was an incredible opportunity. I mean, this is the very beginning of an entirely new medium. What was the tension there, you think? Yeah, for these peers of his, he may have felt that they would look down on his work for radio because it wasn't philosophy.

I think what's really interesting is what he does with the broadcasts themselves. And what we see in that sense is a side of Benjamin that we might not have seen before. For example, Benjamin who's interested in writing for children. In The Cold Heart, one of the two radio plays for children that Benjamin wrote with his friend Ernst Schoen, characters from a very famous German fairy tale are thrust into a place called Voiceland. So Voiceland is the way that Benjamin is trying to talk about radio as something like a physical location. It's a place, right? It calls into question what are the boundaries of this place? Where is it located? How big is it? Where does it take place? Where does radio come from? I mean, he's

really thinking about how sound broadcasting is changing modes of production and reception and experience of performance and textuality and art. For this Radio Benjamin event, I got Jonathan Mitchell and a few members of his crew from The Truth Podcast to put together a short dramatic reading of The Cold Heart. Dear radio listeners, welcome once again to the Youth Hour. I played the part of the radio announcer. I think I will read you another fairy tale, but which one shall I read? Let's have a look in our big dictionary filled with names of all of the writers of fairy tales,

kind of like a telephone book. I should be able to pick one out from there. So A, as in abracadabra. That's not for us. Let's leaf through the book a little further. B, as in Beckstein. That would be good, but we just had him recently. C as in Celsius.

As opposed to Remuer. D, E, F, G. H as in Hauf. Wilhelm Hauf. Yes, that's the one for us. What is this devilish noise here at the radio station? Good heavens. How are we going to get on with our youth hour?

Very well, come on in. They're ruining the whole youth hour. Well, what is it in? What is it then? How strange you are. What do you want? We are the characters from The Cold Heart, the fairy tale by Wilhelm Hauf.

From The Cold Heart by Wilhelm Hauf. Well, you've come right on cue. But how did you get here? Don't you know this is a radio station? You can't just come barging in. Are you the announcer? Indeed, I am. Well then, we are in the right place.

Everybody, come on in and close the door. And perhaps now we should introduce ourselves. Yes, but... I am Peter Monk born in the Black Forest. They call me Cole Peter because along with my father's gill jacket with the silver buttons and the red stockings for special occasions I also inherited the trade of charcoal burner. And I am Dutch Michael. My jacket is of dark linen. I wear my trousers of black leather with broad green suspenders.

And in my pocket I carry a ruler made of brass. And along with that I wear the boots of a raftsman. But all of it is so grossly oversized that for the boots alone, a dozen calves were needed. But can you tell me what brings you here to the radio station? Why are you disturbing me and my work? To tell you the truth, Mr. Announcer, we really wanted to visit Voiceland. Just once. You see, Mr. Announcer, we've already been in House Fairytale Book for 100 years now. Normally, we can only speak to one child at a time. But now, it is supposedly the fashion for fairytale characters to step out of books and cross over into the Voiceland, where they can introduce themselves to many thousands of children all at once.

That's what we would like to do, and we were told that you, Mr. Announcer, were just the man to help us. That might be true if you mean the radio, Voiceland. That's what we do mean. So let us in, Mr. Announcer. There's no time to show us the fine print. Well then, Mr. Announcer, let us in already. Not so fast, Dutch Michael, you brute.

Well, you see, Mr. Announcer, we have never actually been in Voiceland. Couldn't you come with us as our guide? All right. Yeah. If you put it that way. I could guide you. Only, don't be upset if my papers occasionally rustle. Off to Voice Land. Ah! Hello, Paul Peter. Hello. Hello! Can you see anything? Ah! Hello, Paul Peter. Hello.

Hello! Can you see anything? Announcer! Who's that calling? Hello, where are we? Now, don't be too shocked when I tell you. We're lost. Well, Peter, now you're on your own.

I certainly don't envy you for what happens next. Just sit on my hand and hold on to my fingers. You won't fall. So, here we are. Take a seat on the bench by the stove and let's drink a pint of wine together. Cheers. Here's to your health, you poor fellow. Is it true that you've never left the gloomy black forest your whole life? Not yet, indeed, Dutch Michael. How would I? In different company, of course. Every year I get to float down the Rhine to Holland atop a raft of timber.

Not to mention the trips to foreign countries I allow myself in my free time. Oh, to do that just once. It's up to you. Until now, your heart has gotten in the way of everything. My heart? You have, and don't resent me for saying this, thrown away hundreds of coins on vile panhandlers and other riffraff. What good did it do you? They wished you good blessings and a healthy body. Are you any healthier for it? For half that squandered money you could have gotten a doctor. Blessings. Nice blessings those when you are seized for debt and evicted. And what was it that drove you to reach in your pocket every time a beggar stretched out a tattered hat? Your heart. Once again, your heart. Not your eyes or tongue, arms or legs, but your heart.

You took it, as they say, too much to heart. But what can be done to stop it? I try as hard as I can to stifle it, but nonetheless my heart beats, bringing me pain. You poor rascal can do nothing about it, but give me the palpitating thing, and then you'll see how good you have it. Give you my heart? I would die on the spot. Never. Well, if you had one of those honorable surgeons remove your heart from your body, you would surely die. But with me, it's different. Come into this room and see for yourself.

For God's sake, what is that? Yes, take a good look at what's in those spirit glasses. They cost me a wad of dough. Take a closer look and read the names on the labels. Here we have the bailiff, this is the heart of the dance hall king, and that of the head forester. And here we have a whole collection of racketeers and recruiting officers. Look, all of them got rid of a life of fear and worry. None of these heartbeats with worry and fear anymore. And their former owners feel they've gotten an unruly guest out of the house. But what do they carry in their chests now?

A meticulously manufactured stone heart, like this one here. Really? A heart of marble? Listen here, Mr. Dutch Michael. That must feel awfully cold in one's chest. Well, yes, but quite pleasantly cool. Why should a heart be warm? In the winter, that warmth is of no use to you at all. A good cherry brandy is of greater help than a warm heart. And during the summer, when it's hot and humid,

you wouldn't believe how such a heart can cool you down. And as I said, neither fear nor dread, nor foolish compassion, nor any other misery throbs in such a heart. And that's all you have to offer? I was thinking of money, and you offer me a stone? Well, I think a hundred thousand coins should be enough for you as a start. If you manage it truly, you'll be a millionaire. Hey, you! Don't beat so fiercely in my chest. We will soon be done with one another. Very well, Michael. Give me the stone and the money.

And remove this worry from its dwelling place. I knew you were a sensible fellow. Come, let's have a drink, and then I'll fork over the money. I slept a long time. Is that a post horn that just woke me? Am I awake or am I still dreaming? It seems to me that I am riding somewhere. Why am I not even a little melancholy that I am leaving, for the first time, the forests where I lived for so long? What is my mother doing? How strange.

She's sitting there helpless and in despair, and yet this thought cannot draw a single tear from my eye. I am indifferent to it all. Why? Oh, that's right. Tears and sighs, homesickness and melancholy come from the heart. And thanks to Dutch Michael, mine is cold and made of stone. If he kept his word about the hundred thousand as he did with my heart, then I should be happy. Ha! Sure enough!

Here is a purse with thousands of coins and bills from the commercial houses of all the big cities! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! So yeah, that's an excerpt from The Cold Heart, formed by The Truth. So the actors there were Louis Kornfeld and David Lavin. It's a very light version of what Jonathan Mitchell and his crew do every episode of The Truth.

If you're not familiar with his podcast, I really can't recommend it enough. Jonathan is one of the most talented people I know out there working with sound. And I'm very happy that we're both members of the same podcast family. You know, there are now 13 shows in the Radiotopia roster. Maybe you just listen to this one. That's totally cool. I can barely keep up with all of them myself. But I do find myself transported to Voiceland

every time I put a Radiotopia podcast on. But the main reason Radiotopia exists, though, is because of you. Last year, we did a Kickstarter, and all of you out there in listener land gave us a giant pile of money, and we used those funds to kickstart all of the Radiotopia podcasts. It's really because of that money that I was able to do my New York After Rent series, my Art of Viva series, and the InstaSurf project I did last summer. It's really not that revolutionary. Obviously, you invested money and you got good

podcasts in return. This year, we're not going to do a Kickstarter. This year, we are hoping to get you to sign up and become a sustaining member of Radiotopia. Basically, I'm hoping you'll say, I like this show and other Radiotopia shows enough to throw down $1 or $5 or $10 a month. Really, it's simple. And if you do decide to throw down $5 a month, you can get the new 2015 Theory of Everything t-shirt designed by the artist Jillian Tamaki. With your sustaining support,

we're going to know that we can really take this thing even further. I know I certainly have a list of stories that I've always wanted to do, but didn't have the resources to pull off. I think probably everyone at Radiotopia feels that way.

So, visit toe.prx.org or radiotopia.fm and sign up. Do it. Become a sustaining member today. And thanks. so so If I told you there was a bar called the Handsome Cock, what kind of bar would you think it was?

Gay bar? Guys and ties? No. The Handsome Cock is more of a dive bar slash comedy club. I went in there a couple months ago just to check it out. And, you know, it was okay. They had a guy doing Mitt Romney jokes. That sounds pretty... Apparently, when the owners put the sign up,

the owners of the bar were contacted by the landlord who thought it was a gay bar reference and they asked him to change it, but they stuck to their guns. So the handsome cock still exists. The reason I bring this up is because the other day I was walking down Columbia and I saw this sign for a bar called the Freedom Cock. And I'm like, what the hell is this?

So I walk in, and at this place, it is a bunch of guys in ties, right? It is a bunch of D.C. government types, and they're all watching TV. Like, there's TVs on every wall. So it's a gay sports bar? No. Good guess, but the Freedom Cock is a Benghazi bar.

The only thing on the big screen TVs are the Benghazi earrings. I'm confused. Well, you know how there are pop-up stores? Yeah. Well, the Freedom Cock is a pop-up bar. This is how the bartender explained it to me. Okay, so it's at least a real bar. You don't have to, like, stay sober at the Freedom Cock.

Oh, no. They have Freedom Cocktails. Every single drink on the menu is named for a Republican member of the Benghazi Select Committee. So you had the Trey Gowdy. You had the Jim Jordan. You had the Martha Roby. You had the Peter Roskam. What did you order? I got a Trey Gowdy.

What the hell is in a Trey Gowdy? Well, it's basically like a Shirley Temple, but with vodka. Okay, well, I'm kind of wondering if you've just maybe fallen behind in, like, bar culture. Because, you know, there are tons of bars now

that show the debates and political stuff. You know, people are really of bars now that show the debates and political stuff. You know, people are really into that, like going to bars and watching these things together. Well, I walked into the Freedom Cock on Thursday. Okay. That's a week after the hearings. Wow. Yeah, they air the hearings every day.

Why? Well, according to the bartender, people are into it. I mean, those hearings were like 11 hours long, and most people didn't watch the whole thing. Hopping by the Freedom Cock then enables you to catch moments you probably missed. This is like the dumbest idea for a bar. Like the dumbest idea in the dumbest universe of dumb ideas for bars. Well, according to the bartender, it's doing really well. He said the owners plan to branch out to other cities, and they're hoping they can get a whole chain of these pop-up bars up and running

between now and the election. This is ridiculous, though. Isn't the whole Benghazi thing going to just blow over? I mean, if they would have found anything in these emails, they would have found it by now. Yeah. Well, that's what I said to the bartender. But he was very convincing. He was like, no, listen, it doesn't matter.

This isn't going to end. We're going to have Benghazi gate. We're going to have Benghazi Ghazi gate. We're going to have Benghazi gate Ghazi Ghazi. And as long as this keeps going, people are going to watch it. But as the bartender's telling me all this, this other guy at the bar pipes up. He's like this really old guy.

He's dressed in a tight suit. He's got this squeaky voice. He's like, this whole thing ain't going to end because they don't want it to end. And the bartender's like, that's it, Clyde. I told you, I'm going to cut you off if you can't drink responsibly. And then he whispers to me, Clyde's had

like four Jim Jordans. What's in a Jim Jordan? It's like a triple bourbon with an ice cube in it. But Clyde is not quieting down. He's got fire in his eyes and he

points up to the screen. Why aren't these cowards talking about the Ashley Madison emails? And I look at him and I say, I haven't I haven't heard anything about this. What are you talking about? So he explains to me that Hillary Clinton's email is listed in the Ashley Madison document dump. And this is why she had her own private email server to begin with. So the bartender is like clearly bored and annoyed by this. He's like, Clyde, we've been over this a bunch of times.

There's nothing new here. A bunch of bloggers have investigated this to death. There is no there there. She was just trying to keep an eye on her husband. So Clyde is like, no, no, no, no, no. This is not about Bill. It's about Benghazi okay he's very serious about this it says the timestamps and the metadata that comes with all these emails lays out the whole story this is not Hillary lied and people died. Okay?

This is Hillary Clinton was getting some on the side while people died. You have been listening to Benjamin Walker's Theory of Everything. This installment is called The Things We Do for Money. This episode was produced by myself with help from Celeste Lai and Mathilde Biot. Special thanks to all of the folks at Verso Books and Jonathan Mitchell and his crew from the Truth Podcast for the Radio Benjamin dramatization. Bill Morgan's book is called The Typewriter is Holy. And we also had a special appearance from TOE's special correspondent, Chris. Radiotopia. From PRX.