Here’s a glimpe (or three) of Expo West, the largest natural/organic trade show in the world. Trade shows are always a bit surreal — too much of one thing in one place puts one into an altered state — but this year’s expo was particulary peculiar because the natural/organic niche is generally premium-priced, and the financially-ravaged world is now in the throes of learning to embrace povo chic. Yeah, the core organic consumers will keep on the path, even if they have to live in teepees or rusted old VW vans, but they’re not the ones to be suckered in by the latest nutriceutical pre-bottled tea (one lump of GABA or two?) or fancy-wrapped chocolate impregnated with goji essence and colloidal silver flecks. So I found myself with a heightened sense of the surreal as I strolled the aisles of the cavernous convention center and smiled politely at the come-hither sample-bearers as I tasted far too many products that I’m not sure the world needed even before the economy collapsed. But instead of a long missive on the bizarreness of it all, I’ll let a few images speak for me instead. Herewith, a glimpse from day 1.

Not much explanation needed, but it must be noted that the weary man in the background whispered something to me about the impossibility of authenticity in a postmodern world as I walked off the edge of the plush white carpeting.

Onwards, to day 2. (Yes, that’s organic cotton candy.)

This was one of those perfect moments. I was already impressed enough by the symbolism of the display (think about what’s subtantial and necessary at a time like this), and I had my cellular phone all poised and ready to snap, and then I saw the suit and the arm and the bag — oh, the shiny shiny bag! I can’t decide if I’m more impressed by the dainty angle of her fingers or the disembodied hand dangling from her bicep. Eat it quick, before it evaporates!

And finally, day 3. I had ventured downstairs into the ghetto of little-known foodstuffs, where quirkiness was firmly on display and boothbabes had an extra air of desperation, and I happened upon this incredible booth — perhaps the least likely in the show to tempt people to grab and consume its wares. Contemplate the expression on the seated man’s face, and all will become clear. What is the sound of a glass orchestra without a conductor? And how many of those cups contain urine? And is that charmingly-looped handwritten ‘L’ on the ‘Natural Colors’ sign perhaps the most authentic thing at the entire show? Perhaps next year’s expo will reveal the answers. How many of this year’s exhibitors will remain? Let this post be a marker of a changing landscape, and let the days pass.

The Oscura Press laughed its collective ass off at David Rothman’s great blurb about us on a recent teleread.org post (http://www.teleread.org/2009/03/15/find-out-when-p-books-reach-the-kindle-via-the-mysteria-service). We loved being described as aggressively non-profit!

“The Mysteria service links up with your Amazon wish list and tells when paper books become available in the Kindle format. The owner is the aggressively nonprofit and proudly anarchistic Oscura Press. Mysteria also points to new MP3s or videos of titles you want.”

He further goes on to write: “Suggestion for Amazon competitors: Why not add a similar service? For that matter, I can imagine Amazon itself co-opting Mysteria. Buying it out, even? From the anarchists? You never know. One more reason to drop the DRM, Jeff? Just joking.”

Hmm … even anarchists can dream. Just because we’re anarchists doesn’t mean we dream of antique 1890s pipe-bombs, or of climbing plum trees in the Amazon parking lot and dropping fresh ripe plums onto the windshield of Jeff B’s car. (We’re not even sure the Amazon parking lot has plum trees, frankly.) But if Mysteria were to be bought out by Amazon we’d probably: