I read an article in The New York Times (sorry, I lost the actual link somehow, but I'll bet you, of the Internet savvy, can find it) that wondered what constituted being wealthy in Manhattan, comparative to other places in the country. The author's conclusion? Being rich in Piqua, Ohio does not necessarily translate to being rich in Manhattan.
Well, duh.
But this article got me thinking about my own life, and in that fact the author should take a little pride. After all, isn't that what these pieces are supposed to do? Make you examine the world around you and try to establish your place in it? Obviously.
I can't exactly comment with any kind of authority on this question in Manhattan, unless we're talking about 2000-2001 here, but I can try to apply the same set of principles to present-day Los Angeles. What's wealthy here? A quick answer -- it's complicated.
The article I read asked some people in Cupertino, California what they considered wealthy, and some shallow jackass replied like this (and I paraphrase): "We compare social status to the kind of BMW someone drives: lower, a 3-series; middle, a 5-series; upper-middle, a 7-series; and upper, the M-series, Bentleys, and etc."
Gag.
But that doesn't seem to far off from the way we guess someone's wealth here in LA -- what kind of car do they drive (full disclosure: I drive a 2005 Toyota Matrix)? Seriously, though, I can't think of a worse measure for personal wealth -- I lived in what was essentially assisted housing in Canoga Park, and there were many a Lexus and BMW and Mercedes in that parking lot. Does that mean the people who drove those cars should be considered wealthy? No, but they should be considered stupid, since they no doubt paid through their noses for their cars each month while living in a dirty shithole that had the occasional shooting in the barren, postapocalyptic-looking courtyard (it even had the abandoned-looking, rickety swingset that is often used as movie shorthand to denote the death of hope, innocence and the future).
So what's wealthy in Los Angeles, and how do we determine the wealthy from those who merely pose as wealthy? For example, does a dog in the purse mean someone is well off, or is it a pretty telltale sign that someone's a poseur? What kind of jeans does the wealthy citizen wear? Where does he or she eat?
My point is this -- the outward symbols that we as a culture use to pigeonhole someone we pass on the street are no longer reliable. A nice car could mean that person is well off, or it could mean that the person driving it lives in a hut because all their money goes to making that car payment so they can look successful to someone who passes by. And I think it's a problem -- when we place so much value on appearing wealthy that we're willing to forgo the basics, such as a shelter that's commensurate with our income, in order to get things that make us look like we have more money than we do, something is wrong.
That's only one thing that's wrong with this place.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
So what have I learned in the four years I've lived in Los Angeles?
One thing, I guess.
I've noticed that 9/11, for all its seeming magnitude when (and up to a year or so after) it happened, really didn't mean that much. Really, it didn't do much other than temporarily delay the trajectory that American society and culture was on beforehand. I submit as an example the cultural marker that is "Fight Club."
In it, when the narrator first sits at a bar and talks to Tyler Durden, Tyler says (and I paraphrase, slightly) "Crime? Poverty? These things don't matter to me. What matters to me are celebrity magazines; television with 500 channels..."
And so on it goes. But so what, you might ask? Remember, please, that this movie was made in 1999, with the book that is its source being published at least four years earlier.
I'll let that sink in, and also give us all a chance to remember what life was like in 1999. God damn, that was almost ten years ago! I graduated from college in the spring of 1999, and I can barely remember what cultural touchstones were popping off at the time. I guess I was listening to a lot of second-wave emo, drinking a ton, and doing all those things you do that hold over from college.
Clearly, however, there was a sense that our culture was becoming somewhat shallow, as evidenced by our collective obsession with celebrity, fashion, style, and other things of relatively minor consequence.
And then the World Trade Center towers collapsed in a pile of flaming and twisted rubble. In a way, I'll bet that Chuck Palahniuk got a little nervous when that happened, as the perpetrators of an attack such as that could have easily been disaffected white males bent on returning society to its basic, primal roots, yearning and hoping to shrug off that which doesn't matter and focus on essentials of life.
And everyone had their own take on what the reverberations of the event were going to be. I'll leave aside political/diplomatic/international relations-related shockwaves, because I'm focusing on the cultural here, but it seems to me that a popular position was to proclaim that the shallow, ironic age of the nineties was done, too be replaced by a new earnestness, no longer cheapened and mocked by Gen X-er led sarcasm or ennui -- in short, a return to those things that really matter. Country, national security, safety, and so forth.
Wrong.
Look at our lives now, six years after the choking haze of 9/11 lifted. We're much more obsessed with voyeurism and celebrity than we were then, so much so that I can't even remember our obsession at the the turn of the century in comparison. There's no way that late '90s Access Hollywood can compare to TMZ.com in its desire to track and assess celebrity, and there's no way the thirst for unimportant, celebrity-related news can be matched by any time in the past. We must know what people who are wealthier and more well-known than we are eat, do and consume. We see it as our right to know where they go, who they go with and why they can get in and we can't. I read an article in this month's Atlantic Monthly that asserted our obsession is becoming dangerous -- dangerous psychologically, in that we seemingly want these people to suffer for our seeing them in public, and actually physically dangerous, as anyone who's seen paparazzi cars swarming for a shot of Britney Spears or Nicole Ritchie can attest.
So the fuck what? Well, as someone who's studied a fair bit of history, I try to relate to what I'm seeing by comparing it to something I know existed at one point or another. Not a completely accurate, unbiased or clear way to look at things, I'm sure, but it's what I do. Anyway, I see our society, with its shallowness, its focus on brands, profits and market ubiquity, its consumption, and its desire for nothing more than a small taste of being well-known -- I see this and I think of England before World War One.
Like it, our society is troubled by a small war in a far-off place, much like a horse is annoyed by a fly. It's bothersome, but for most, it's an inconvenience that rarely draws our full attention. Instead, we're focused on a material lives, our race to keep up with an upper class that's pulling away from not only the lower class, but also the middle class. Everyone's trying at least to act like they belong with the jet-set, not seeing a looming disaster that will certainly prove to be more than a blip. This event, and I can't pretend to know enough to predict what it will be, will be the cataclysm that 9/11 hinted at.
This is not a threat. This is a plea.
I've noticed that 9/11, for all its seeming magnitude when (and up to a year or so after) it happened, really didn't mean that much. Really, it didn't do much other than temporarily delay the trajectory that American society and culture was on beforehand. I submit as an example the cultural marker that is "Fight Club."
In it, when the narrator first sits at a bar and talks to Tyler Durden, Tyler says (and I paraphrase, slightly) "Crime? Poverty? These things don't matter to me. What matters to me are celebrity magazines; television with 500 channels..."
And so on it goes. But so what, you might ask? Remember, please, that this movie was made in 1999, with the book that is its source being published at least four years earlier.
I'll let that sink in, and also give us all a chance to remember what life was like in 1999. God damn, that was almost ten years ago! I graduated from college in the spring of 1999, and I can barely remember what cultural touchstones were popping off at the time. I guess I was listening to a lot of second-wave emo, drinking a ton, and doing all those things you do that hold over from college.
Clearly, however, there was a sense that our culture was becoming somewhat shallow, as evidenced by our collective obsession with celebrity, fashion, style, and other things of relatively minor consequence.
And then the World Trade Center towers collapsed in a pile of flaming and twisted rubble. In a way, I'll bet that Chuck Palahniuk got a little nervous when that happened, as the perpetrators of an attack such as that could have easily been disaffected white males bent on returning society to its basic, primal roots, yearning and hoping to shrug off that which doesn't matter and focus on essentials of life.
And everyone had their own take on what the reverberations of the event were going to be. I'll leave aside political/diplomatic/international relations-related shockwaves, because I'm focusing on the cultural here, but it seems to me that a popular position was to proclaim that the shallow, ironic age of the nineties was done, too be replaced by a new earnestness, no longer cheapened and mocked by Gen X-er led sarcasm or ennui -- in short, a return to those things that really matter. Country, national security, safety, and so forth.
Wrong.
Look at our lives now, six years after the choking haze of 9/11 lifted. We're much more obsessed with voyeurism and celebrity than we were then, so much so that I can't even remember our obsession at the the turn of the century in comparison. There's no way that late '90s Access Hollywood can compare to TMZ.com in its desire to track and assess celebrity, and there's no way the thirst for unimportant, celebrity-related news can be matched by any time in the past. We must know what people who are wealthier and more well-known than we are eat, do and consume. We see it as our right to know where they go, who they go with and why they can get in and we can't. I read an article in this month's Atlantic Monthly that asserted our obsession is becoming dangerous -- dangerous psychologically, in that we seemingly want these people to suffer for our seeing them in public, and actually physically dangerous, as anyone who's seen paparazzi cars swarming for a shot of Britney Spears or Nicole Ritchie can attest.
So the fuck what? Well, as someone who's studied a fair bit of history, I try to relate to what I'm seeing by comparing it to something I know existed at one point or another. Not a completely accurate, unbiased or clear way to look at things, I'm sure, but it's what I do. Anyway, I see our society, with its shallowness, its focus on brands, profits and market ubiquity, its consumption, and its desire for nothing more than a small taste of being well-known -- I see this and I think of England before World War One.
Like it, our society is troubled by a small war in a far-off place, much like a horse is annoyed by a fly. It's bothersome, but for most, it's an inconvenience that rarely draws our full attention. Instead, we're focused on a material lives, our race to keep up with an upper class that's pulling away from not only the lower class, but also the middle class. Everyone's trying at least to act like they belong with the jet-set, not seeing a looming disaster that will certainly prove to be more than a blip. This event, and I can't pretend to know enough to predict what it will be, will be the cataclysm that 9/11 hinted at.
This is not a threat. This is a plea.
Not much here. Oh, I manage the restaurant in which I've toiled for these past three years. Oh, and I've written one-third of a potentially pretty kick-ass script. Also, I've gotten engaged. And thought of an interesting, viable and relevant documentary idea. But other than that, I got nothing.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
1) I'm now sitting alone atop the standings of my fantasy football league. Yeah, it's my first year. True managerial genius coupled with beginner's luck is a deadly combo.
2) A River Runs Through It is a kind of a bullshit movie. I'm not sure I buy the whole "healing power of fly-fishing" thing. I don't think I'm the first man to express skepticism about this, but I'm pretty sure that I'm more bored with the notion that the past was somehow simpler than the present.
3) Matt Hasselbeck is back, but is he really back. Do I start him next week or go with the surprisingly resurgent Steve "Air" McNair against the Bengals? I'm glad I had last week's matchup sewn up before the first half of Monday night's game because I'm sure that Hasselbeck's spotty first half play, when taken with literally the worst service I've ever received at a bar would have sent me totally over the edge. I'm already trying to keep of the cigs here. I don;t blame the bar, but our waitress was probably thinking more about this Backstage than the one she was working at. Good luck on that audition, lady!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
So a lot of people might be wondering where I've been these past three years. Or maybe there aren't a lot of people who have asked, "Blue, I've been wandering in the desert here. I've had no source for third-hand news, conjecture and ham-handed puns. What gives?"
Truth be told, I've been a little lost myself. Work, school, school and work. Where's the time for me? Where's the time put aside to post thoughts, anecdotes and rumblings from the underground, of which I am still a part?
I thought to myself, "You gotta make time, Blue! You sit and watch sports three days a week, you have time to watch TV, why not unplug the laptop, drag it over, and share with the world?"
So I thought the better of it, said, "Fuck it," and decided to do it anyway. And fuck you. I'm back.
Truth be told, I've been a little lost myself. Work, school, school and work. Where's the time for me? Where's the time put aside to post thoughts, anecdotes and rumblings from the underground, of which I am still a part?
I thought to myself, "You gotta make time, Blue! You sit and watch sports three days a week, you have time to watch TV, why not unplug the laptop, drag it over, and share with the world?"
So I thought the better of it, said, "Fuck it," and decided to do it anyway. And fuck you. I'm back.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Yeah, so I don't update my site all that much anymore. Getting back into school after four years, plus being in a new, exciting city will do that a body.
So apologies are in order. Who am I apologizing to? Probably no one, since I can't imagine anyone's checked the site lately, but it makes me feel better.
I'm sitting here on the eve of my first midterm, attempting to lead a lummox from my class through the finer points of The Enlightenment Era. How did I get roped into this? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned I would be in the library. Curses!
So, a quick brief as to what I've been doing with myself since I moved out here almost two months ago...
--Class, class, and more class. Actually, I'm only taking two classes and an independent study, so it's not a terrible load. The Enlightenment Era, which is a snoozer, and Historiography ("the history of the study of history") which isn't nearly as boring as it sounds. My independent study is called "The Rise of the Nation State 1648-1815. Whoo-hoo!
--Assisting various professors. TA-ing a Humanities class (and man, the professor is HOT!). I have about 60 kids to take care of, and they're all morons. Well, not all, but some couldn't string together a coherent sentence if you gave them a dictionary and a ball of brightly-colored yarn. I'm also assisting in that Historiography class (will I get to grade my own paper? I hope so!) due to an unforeseen tragedy in the History department. I get paid for it, which is nice.
--Bombing around LA/Hollywood with friends. Good times. The less said about that, the better.
--I also, just recently, got a couple-hour-a-week job tutoring a fourth grader (!). I know what you're thinking -- "Blue, a tutor? A mentor? A guide of this nation's greatest resource?" Yeah, whatever. It pays $25/hr, so I can slap a creepy smile on my face for that long.
Well, the lummox returneth, so I'll holler back.
So apologies are in order. Who am I apologizing to? Probably no one, since I can't imagine anyone's checked the site lately, but it makes me feel better.
I'm sitting here on the eve of my first midterm, attempting to lead a lummox from my class through the finer points of The Enlightenment Era. How did I get roped into this? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned I would be in the library. Curses!
So, a quick brief as to what I've been doing with myself since I moved out here almost two months ago...
--Class, class, and more class. Actually, I'm only taking two classes and an independent study, so it's not a terrible load. The Enlightenment Era, which is a snoozer, and Historiography ("the history of the study of history") which isn't nearly as boring as it sounds. My independent study is called "The Rise of the Nation State 1648-1815. Whoo-hoo!
--Assisting various professors. TA-ing a Humanities class (and man, the professor is HOT!). I have about 60 kids to take care of, and they're all morons. Well, not all, but some couldn't string together a coherent sentence if you gave them a dictionary and a ball of brightly-colored yarn. I'm also assisting in that Historiography class (will I get to grade my own paper? I hope so!) due to an unforeseen tragedy in the History department. I get paid for it, which is nice.
--Bombing around LA/Hollywood with friends. Good times. The less said about that, the better.
--I also, just recently, got a couple-hour-a-week job tutoring a fourth grader (!). I know what you're thinking -- "Blue, a tutor? A mentor? A guide of this nation's greatest resource?" Yeah, whatever. It pays $25/hr, so I can slap a creepy smile on my face for that long.
Well, the lummox returneth, so I'll holler back.
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Well, it's happened.
As I sit here and write this, I'm looking out over the inky, black expanse that is the Pacific Ocean. I'm writing this in Pepperdine University's coffeee lounge/computer lab, waiting for tomorrow when my academic career begins after a four-year haitus.
Daunting, I think. But I'm still looking forward to it. I have a pretty open schedule -- classes on Monday, Wednesday and Thrusday with teaching repsonsibilities on Tuesday and Thursday. I think I can manage, but is school still the same as when I left it? I guess I'll find out soon.
The drive out here was an interesting 2400-mile trek. I was alone after a friend bagged out (for understandable reasons, I guess), so I had a lot of time to think about stuff. I had time, but that doesn't mean I did much of it or came to any fascinating conclusions.
I found a great substitute for thinking -- books on CD. Listen to the BBC radio-play of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, as well as David McCullogh's biography of John Adams. Those two gems pretty much ate up the whole trip. I'm thankful.
Got to LA last Tuesday and had a warm reunion with friend and grad-school colleague Mike J, who's taken it upon himself to drum into my knotty head the entire layout of greater LA. Another daunting prospect, but I'm learning.
Saw a free Guided By Voices show at a street fair in Hipsterville (Echo Park, Silver Lake) last night. Met Mike's friends, who have all welcomed me with open arms. Saw Dennis Haskins of TV's Saved By The Bell (yes, again!) at a karaoke bar in Burbank. Apparently he sang "Play That Funky Music, White Boy."
It's been exciting. More later.
As I sit here and write this, I'm looking out over the inky, black expanse that is the Pacific Ocean. I'm writing this in Pepperdine University's coffeee lounge/computer lab, waiting for tomorrow when my academic career begins after a four-year haitus.
Daunting, I think. But I'm still looking forward to it. I have a pretty open schedule -- classes on Monday, Wednesday and Thrusday with teaching repsonsibilities on Tuesday and Thursday. I think I can manage, but is school still the same as when I left it? I guess I'll find out soon.
The drive out here was an interesting 2400-mile trek. I was alone after a friend bagged out (for understandable reasons, I guess), so I had a lot of time to think about stuff. I had time, but that doesn't mean I did much of it or came to any fascinating conclusions.
I found a great substitute for thinking -- books on CD. Listen to the BBC radio-play of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, as well as David McCullogh's biography of John Adams. Those two gems pretty much ate up the whole trip. I'm thankful.
Got to LA last Tuesday and had a warm reunion with friend and grad-school colleague Mike J, who's taken it upon himself to drum into my knotty head the entire layout of greater LA. Another daunting prospect, but I'm learning.
Saw a free Guided By Voices show at a street fair in Hipsterville (Echo Park, Silver Lake) last night. Met Mike's friends, who have all welcomed me with open arms. Saw Dennis Haskins of TV's Saved By The Bell (yes, again!) at a karaoke bar in Burbank. Apparently he sang "Play That Funky Music, White Boy."
It's been exciting. More later.
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
My man Dave (SPDK) is tearing up the charts over at Spiderbites these days, so I thought I would again point any of you fools who are still checking in here over to him.
He's on fire since his move to Pittsburg. My guess? Doesn't know anyone. Kind of like when I started this blog. I was living in Chicago, had just broken up with my lady friend, and had absolutely nothing else to do.
Not like I'm Mr. Popular now, but hell, I'm in my hometown. For another four days.
Hence, no blogging recently (has it really been almost amonth?). For that, I'm sorry, but you gotta understand, I'm trying to move cross-country here to attend g-school, and the Fates have not exactly been smiling down on me.
$600 in car repairs just to ensure that I'll make it to Malibu? Ouch. I could have bought a Malibu for that much. No income when I get there? Ouch again. I'll live on loans until I find a job, but one doesn't want to carry on with that too long. No, I need a job when I get there, but I just don't know what kind of time committment grad school will require. So it's not like I can start lining stuff up now.
Wow -- this may be my most boring blog yet. Sorry. This is why I haven't done it in a while.
Oh, on another note, I'm looking for links to the 28 Days Later... script, if anyone knows where to find it online.
He's on fire since his move to Pittsburg. My guess? Doesn't know anyone. Kind of like when I started this blog. I was living in Chicago, had just broken up with my lady friend, and had absolutely nothing else to do.
Not like I'm Mr. Popular now, but hell, I'm in my hometown. For another four days.
Hence, no blogging recently (has it really been almost amonth?). For that, I'm sorry, but you gotta understand, I'm trying to move cross-country here to attend g-school, and the Fates have not exactly been smiling down on me.
$600 in car repairs just to ensure that I'll make it to Malibu? Ouch. I could have bought a Malibu for that much. No income when I get there? Ouch again. I'll live on loans until I find a job, but one doesn't want to carry on with that too long. No, I need a job when I get there, but I just don't know what kind of time committment grad school will require. So it's not like I can start lining stuff up now.
Wow -- this may be my most boring blog yet. Sorry. This is why I haven't done it in a while.
Oh, on another note, I'm looking for links to the 28 Days Later... script, if anyone knows where to find it online.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
As an Ohioan, I feel the need to weigh in on the (potential?) candidacy of Jerry Springer for the U.S. Senate in 2004.
Geez, where to start? I remember as a young sprat learning that this guy on TV who pitted stripper against transsexual and let them have at each other was once the mayor of Cincinnati. My response went something like "The hell? What's wrong with that place?"
Then it occurred to me that he was mayor before the Jerry Springer Show. OK, so that problem settled itself.
But then this whole Senate-run thing came up (a while ago, admittedly -- I remember hearing something about it at least six months ago), and this forces me to defend my home state. Kind of like Robert E. Lee -- he didn't like the choice put before him, but he chose sweet Virginny.
I remember Jonah Goldberg's now-infamous quote regarding the Springer Senate run. He said on CNN, "To me this proves that voter turnout is not this glorious thing…because if Jerry Springer shows up, he'll bring all these new people to the polls, they will be slack-jawed yokels, hicks, weirdoes, pervs, and whatnot."
To me, like to Jonah, it seems obvious he's not talking about your typical Ohio voter, but rather the typical Jerry Springer guest -- as if a Springer Senate bid would draw those types to the polls in droves to vote for the Ringmaster. And maybe it would, but on this one I'm with Jonah -- I think we as a republic would be better off if they just didn't vote at all. But hey, we can't stop them from voting, and if they think Senator Jerry would be a triumphant moment in the American electoral process, then there's nothing we can do.
The above link points to Jonah's G-File posted today about the whole "controversy" surrounding what Jonah said. It's been misinterpreted in about ten different ways, even though he's not been as explicit as I have in saying that the average Springer show participant has no place at the wonderful smorgasboard we call representative American democracy.
All joking aside, I don't think Ohioans are going to be taken in by this, which seems to me to be the political equivalent of sitcom "stunt casting" -- you know, when Sean Penn shows up on Friends or whatnot. Ohioans are fairly conservative as a whole -- except for the big-city dwellers, maybe -- and I don't think we'll want to be seen as the state that has a sleazy TV talk show host for a representative in Washington.
But I'm scared, Sarge -- I'm scared that in this day and age, when celebrity culture seems to dominate every aspect of the media, public life and debate, and you name it, that Springer might win on name recognition alone, or on the "Wouldn't that be a trip" factor. Or that solid ol' George Voinovich might look sort of like a stick-in-the-mud compared with this slick sharpie Springer.
Hell, there are any number of ways Springer might eke something out. But like I said, I doubt it...and, as I sit here not 60 miles from Hicksville, Ohio -- the place where Jerry's kicking the whole thing off, leaning up against a post to show his solidarity with us yokels from fly-over country -- I can't help but think the worst. At least the residents of Hicksville get that it wasn't Goldberg who's poking fun, and that it's Springer who's trying to get them to look bad. Read some of the "testimonials" at Springer's official campaign site and see who you think gets the big picture.
Come on, Ohioans! Don't do this to yourselves.
Geez, where to start? I remember as a young sprat learning that this guy on TV who pitted stripper against transsexual and let them have at each other was once the mayor of Cincinnati. My response went something like "The hell? What's wrong with that place?"
Then it occurred to me that he was mayor before the Jerry Springer Show. OK, so that problem settled itself.
But then this whole Senate-run thing came up (a while ago, admittedly -- I remember hearing something about it at least six months ago), and this forces me to defend my home state. Kind of like Robert E. Lee -- he didn't like the choice put before him, but he chose sweet Virginny.
I remember Jonah Goldberg's now-infamous quote regarding the Springer Senate run. He said on CNN, "To me this proves that voter turnout is not this glorious thing…because if Jerry Springer shows up, he'll bring all these new people to the polls, they will be slack-jawed yokels, hicks, weirdoes, pervs, and whatnot."
To me, like to Jonah, it seems obvious he's not talking about your typical Ohio voter, but rather the typical Jerry Springer guest -- as if a Springer Senate bid would draw those types to the polls in droves to vote for the Ringmaster. And maybe it would, but on this one I'm with Jonah -- I think we as a republic would be better off if they just didn't vote at all. But hey, we can't stop them from voting, and if they think Senator Jerry would be a triumphant moment in the American electoral process, then there's nothing we can do.
The above link points to Jonah's G-File posted today about the whole "controversy" surrounding what Jonah said. It's been misinterpreted in about ten different ways, even though he's not been as explicit as I have in saying that the average Springer show participant has no place at the wonderful smorgasboard we call representative American democracy.
All joking aside, I don't think Ohioans are going to be taken in by this, which seems to me to be the political equivalent of sitcom "stunt casting" -- you know, when Sean Penn shows up on Friends or whatnot. Ohioans are fairly conservative as a whole -- except for the big-city dwellers, maybe -- and I don't think we'll want to be seen as the state that has a sleazy TV talk show host for a representative in Washington.
But I'm scared, Sarge -- I'm scared that in this day and age, when celebrity culture seems to dominate every aspect of the media, public life and debate, and you name it, that Springer might win on name recognition alone, or on the "Wouldn't that be a trip" factor. Or that solid ol' George Voinovich might look sort of like a stick-in-the-mud compared with this slick sharpie Springer.
Hell, there are any number of ways Springer might eke something out. But like I said, I doubt it...and, as I sit here not 60 miles from Hicksville, Ohio -- the place where Jerry's kicking the whole thing off, leaning up against a post to show his solidarity with us yokels from fly-over country -- I can't help but think the worst. At least the residents of Hicksville get that it wasn't Goldberg who's poking fun, and that it's Springer who's trying to get them to look bad. Read some of the "testimonials" at Springer's official campaign site and see who you think gets the big picture.
Come on, Ohioans! Don't do this to yourselves.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
Anyone ever seen one of those cats with thumbs? Man, they're weird. We got one recently, and I keep bolting awake at night, hearing someone (or something) trying to open my door. Upon inspection, it's just the cat, but believe you me...I've got my eye on him.
Maybe I'm just a little jumpy after seeing 28 Days Later... twice.
What a great flick. Now, I love me some Danny Boyle -- well, that's not entirely true, I guess. I love SOME Danny Boyle. Shallow Grave? Sweet. Trainspotting? An ATF (all-time favorite), to be sure.
But A Life Less Ordinary? The Beach? Biscuit.
What really chaps me is The Beach, and how good that could have been. What a great book by one Mr. Alex Garland.
Now, my friend Dave will tell you all sorts of things about me and The Beach -- how I read it every time I come over, how I sit there and coo at it like it's "the one true book" (tm Dave)...all that's well and good (and possibly true), but my God, that movie sucks. A total injustice to good source material everywhere.
I can just imagine evil movie execs hunched over the book with red pens (red right hands?), slashing out entire parts. "OK, first all, he's English. Well, now he's American. And it says here that the beautiful girl never hooks up with him. Well, scratch that too. She does."
Not to mention the end. Whereas the book descends into a hellish, bloody end that showcases the darker sides of human nature, the movie ends with fake video games and people emailing pictures to each other, like it was the best Spring Break Ever! Total shat.
So naturally, I was apprehensive when I saw that Danny Boyle and Alex Garland had again joined forces to make a movie, not to mention the fact that it looked to be a tired crack at a worn-out genre (the zombie flick).
But man, was I wrong. And I'm glad I was.
The movie is simply fantastic. Sure, they're not really zombies (they're infected with RAGE! GASP!), and the ending seems a bit tacked on ("We're saved!"), but other than that, I seriously dug this movie.
The first time I saw it, I was literally fidgeting, twisting, and nervously gripping my seat. It was that intense and suspenseful for me. And violence onscreen doesn't bug me at all. My favorite movie is A Clockwork Orange, followed closely by GoodFellas, for God's sake.
No, it was the suspense that was killing me. And the only thing that can bring that much suspense to a movie is a killer script and top-notch direction. The opening scenes build masterfully, and never let you off the hook.
Boyle also has the wherewithal to throw a sop or two to the George Romero zombie flicks (the grocery scene, the tunnel scene, and so forth) to placate the real zombie flick fans. But the movie is by no means a retread. It's just...well, great.
How many times do I have to say it? Chekc out Rotten Tomatoes if you don't believe me.
Maybe I'm just a little jumpy after seeing 28 Days Later... twice.
What a great flick. Now, I love me some Danny Boyle -- well, that's not entirely true, I guess. I love SOME Danny Boyle. Shallow Grave? Sweet. Trainspotting? An ATF (all-time favorite), to be sure.
But A Life Less Ordinary? The Beach? Biscuit.
What really chaps me is The Beach, and how good that could have been. What a great book by one Mr. Alex Garland.
Now, my friend Dave will tell you all sorts of things about me and The Beach -- how I read it every time I come over, how I sit there and coo at it like it's "the one true book" (tm Dave)...all that's well and good (and possibly true), but my God, that movie sucks. A total injustice to good source material everywhere.
I can just imagine evil movie execs hunched over the book with red pens (red right hands?), slashing out entire parts. "OK, first all, he's English. Well, now he's American. And it says here that the beautiful girl never hooks up with him. Well, scratch that too. She does."
Not to mention the end. Whereas the book descends into a hellish, bloody end that showcases the darker sides of human nature, the movie ends with fake video games and people emailing pictures to each other, like it was the best Spring Break Ever! Total shat.
So naturally, I was apprehensive when I saw that Danny Boyle and Alex Garland had again joined forces to make a movie, not to mention the fact that it looked to be a tired crack at a worn-out genre (the zombie flick).
But man, was I wrong. And I'm glad I was.
The movie is simply fantastic. Sure, they're not really zombies (
The first time I saw it, I was literally fidgeting, twisting, and nervously gripping my seat. It was that intense and suspenseful for me. And violence onscreen doesn't bug me at all. My favorite movie is A Clockwork Orange, followed closely by GoodFellas, for God's sake.
No, it was the suspense that was killing me. And the only thing that can bring that much suspense to a movie is a killer script and top-notch direction. The opening scenes build masterfully, and never let you off the hook.
Boyle also has the wherewithal to throw a sop or two to the George Romero zombie flicks (the grocery scene, the tunnel scene, and so forth) to placate the real zombie flick fans. But the movie is by no means a retread. It's just...well, great.
How many times do I have to say it? Chekc out Rotten Tomatoes if you don't believe me.
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
Went to a wedding this past weekend in Cincinnati (Queen City on The Ohio River -- nice little segue, no?) and I noticed a phenomenon I had never really thought about before -- what's the deal with the Electric Slide? Where do (or did) people learn that little rump-shaker? I never learned it. Best friend Nick (with whom I mocked all participants) doesn't know it. His girlfriend didn't even know it, and girls know every dance (of course, she IS a foreigner). But hella people did know it, and participated eagerly. Old folks, young folks, and so forth. There's no age gap there. It's not like just the old people knew it...many folks around my age did as well, and even some younger than me. So I must've missed that day in gym. Too bad I couldn't have missed the square-dancin' days too.
I mean, I get the Chicken Dance -- as Pheobe once said on Friends, "People acting like animals! I love it!" But the Electric Slide...
Even if it was once a popular song (which I'll admit it was -- I mean, "It's Electric! Woogie woogie woogie!" That's just priceless.), is the human need for a mass dance so powerful that we need to hold onto this crusty, played-out piece? I guess it is. Other cultures seem to have their traditional groups dances -- ever been to a Greek, Russian, Polish, or otherwise wedding? They're nuts for the gathering, the throwing up of hands, the cheering, and that sort of thing. It seems a shame that the American equivalent is the damned Electric Slide.
PS: I know I questioned where people learned it, but also linked to an intructional site. Maybe I should print it out, laminate it, and take it with me to my next wedding. But I won't.
I mean, I get the Chicken Dance -- as Pheobe once said on Friends, "People acting like animals! I love it!" But the Electric Slide...
Even if it was once a popular song (which I'll admit it was -- I mean, "It's Electric! Woogie woogie woogie!" That's just priceless.), is the human need for a mass dance so powerful that we need to hold onto this crusty, played-out piece? I guess it is. Other cultures seem to have their traditional groups dances -- ever been to a Greek, Russian, Polish, or otherwise wedding? They're nuts for the gathering, the throwing up of hands, the cheering, and that sort of thing. It seems a shame that the American equivalent is the damned Electric Slide.
PS: I know I questioned where people learned it, but also linked to an intructional site. Maybe I should print it out, laminate it, and take it with me to my next wedding. But I won't.
Celebrate good times, ya-hoo!
We here in the "Heart of It All" are filled with pride, as the great state of Ohio celebrated its bicentennial this past Saturday. 1803 to 2003 -- it's been a wild ride. Well, I can't speak for the whole 200 years, but the past 26 have sure been wicked.
I'll be getting a little closer to the historicity of the whole occassion today as I cover historic Waterville's little celebration. Not sure what it will entail, but I DO know there's some sort of bell involved. Can't go wrong having a party that features a bell.
I want to take this time to enumerate some of Ohio's contributions to the world at large:
1) Flight. Duh. From the Wright Brothers to Neil Armstrong, we've got the market cornered.
2) Hella presidents. I've heard eight.
3) The first university west of the Appalachians.
4) Bicentennial barns. Is there anything that says "Ohio! Way to go!" better than a barn?
5) Birthplace of Thomas Edison. We'd be living in the dark and unable to enjoy movies if not for this guy.
6) How about the Battle of Fallen Timbers? I'm surprised you haven't heard of it. In Stephen Ambrose's Undaunted Courage (story of the Lewis and Clark Expedition), he credits said battle as opening up the west to settlement. We know a lot about it up here int his particular corner of Ohio, since it occured not more than five miles from where I now sit. In fact, your humble narrator went to Fallen Timbers Middle School AND Anthony Wayne High School. By the way, "Mad" Anthony Wayne was the General who defeated Chief Little Turtle at said battle.
7) Jonah Goldberg digs Ohio. Said so today. I've been to the Toledo Lounge in Washington DC. Surprisingly little reaction when I mentioned I was from Toledo.
8) Who can forget the Toledo Mud Hens, arguably the most famous AAA baseball team in existence? Made famous by Jamie Farr (Klinger the cross dresser) on M*A*S*H (who, by the way, is a real goober). Ah, Muddy the Mud Hen -- how many times have you beaten me with your giant plastic bat? Also made famous by Jamie Farr is Tony Packo's, the best Hungarian restaurant in the world (outside of Hungary, that is).
9) The Ohio River. Enough said about that. Anyone who doesn't know the importance of the Ohio River in the settlement of this country should write me. I'll come over and dunk your head repeatedly into the toilet.
10) And finally, me. While I wouldn't always rank myself in the top ten things Ohio has given the world, I did make this list.
We here in the "Heart of It All" are filled with pride, as the great state of Ohio celebrated its bicentennial this past Saturday. 1803 to 2003 -- it's been a wild ride. Well, I can't speak for the whole 200 years, but the past 26 have sure been wicked.
I'll be getting a little closer to the historicity of the whole occassion today as I cover historic Waterville's little celebration. Not sure what it will entail, but I DO know there's some sort of bell involved. Can't go wrong having a party that features a bell.
I want to take this time to enumerate some of Ohio's contributions to the world at large:
1) Flight. Duh. From the Wright Brothers to Neil Armstrong, we've got the market cornered.
2) Hella presidents. I've heard eight.
3) The first university west of the Appalachians.
4) Bicentennial barns. Is there anything that says "Ohio! Way to go!" better than a barn?
5) Birthplace of Thomas Edison. We'd be living in the dark and unable to enjoy movies if not for this guy.
6) How about the Battle of Fallen Timbers? I'm surprised you haven't heard of it. In Stephen Ambrose's Undaunted Courage (story of the Lewis and Clark Expedition), he credits said battle as opening up the west to settlement. We know a lot about it up here int his particular corner of Ohio, since it occured not more than five miles from where I now sit. In fact, your humble narrator went to Fallen Timbers Middle School AND Anthony Wayne High School. By the way, "Mad" Anthony Wayne was the General who defeated Chief Little Turtle at said battle.
7) Jonah Goldberg digs Ohio. Said so today. I've been to the Toledo Lounge in Washington DC. Surprisingly little reaction when I mentioned I was from Toledo.
8) Who can forget the Toledo Mud Hens, arguably the most famous AAA baseball team in existence? Made famous by Jamie Farr (Klinger the cross dresser) on M*A*S*H (who, by the way, is a real goober). Ah, Muddy the Mud Hen -- how many times have you beaten me with your giant plastic bat? Also made famous by Jamie Farr is Tony Packo's, the best Hungarian restaurant in the world (outside of Hungary, that is).
9) The Ohio River. Enough said about that. Anyone who doesn't know the importance of the Ohio River in the settlement of this country should write me. I'll come over and dunk your head repeatedly into the toilet.
10) And finally, me. While I wouldn't always rank myself in the top ten things Ohio has given the world, I did make this list.
Thursday, June 05, 2003
I said I'd come back around and I meant it...
A not-so boring day today, as I slog through a mound of things-yet-to-cover. The mound seems "insur-mound-able," even though I know it's not. What gives? Normally a busy day wouldn't bother (or even stir) me, but there's a difference -- I feel this frantic tapping on my shoulder, saying "How are you going to pay for school? How will you live? Shouldn't you do laundry?" Oh...hi, Mom.
School. Just thinking about it sends me into little spells. I love school -- I love the academy, I love sitting in class, taking notes, asking questions, cutting down other students -- in short, I love the whole package. And it's been a long four years since I've been there.
And I'm good at school. Oh, maybe not in the traditional "grades" sense of the word, but I get a lot out of it and I know my stuff. Problem is, if something eludes my mental grasp (see: math, all types except geometry), I simultaneously lose interest and get frustrated, and then...poof! A C- or D+ appears on my transcripts. Hell, even the dreaded...well, you know what the worst grade is. Let's just say I've received one or two in my otherwise august academic career.
Not worried about the aforementioned "losing interest" bit in grad school, however; I love history and won't have to take anything but. But something else is weighing on me here -- the logisitics of graduate school.
Undergrad? Meh. Mom and Dad took care of that -- not too say they paid for all of it (they did foot a majority-sized chunk of the bill, though), but Mom is great with details and set it all up. All I had to do was go to class, work my ten hours a week at the Student Union (until I was let go junior year -- seems they were downsizing the number of thieves they kept on their payroll) or the school paper, and that was that. Rest of time devoted solely to self-centered pursuits. I worry about those loans now, but not at the time.
But this time, M and D, God love 'em, aren't helping (not that I would dream of asking), and so it's all on my shoulders. And I'm nervous. Got some financial help from the ol' history department (TA Blue! Whoo!), but living and the rest of tuition is up to me.
Basically, here's my plea: if anyone in the LA area knows of media jobs or the like, let me know. If anyone knows how to find out the addresses, names, and numbers of any newspaper's LA bureau, let me know. Ditto TV news channels, magazines, anything.
I'd sure appreciate any help that comes this way.
A not-so boring day today, as I slog through a mound of things-yet-to-cover. The mound seems "insur-mound-able," even though I know it's not. What gives? Normally a busy day wouldn't bother (or even stir) me, but there's a difference -- I feel this frantic tapping on my shoulder, saying "How are you going to pay for school? How will you live? Shouldn't you do laundry?" Oh...hi, Mom.
School. Just thinking about it sends me into little spells. I love school -- I love the academy, I love sitting in class, taking notes, asking questions, cutting down other students -- in short, I love the whole package. And it's been a long four years since I've been there.
And I'm good at school. Oh, maybe not in the traditional "grades" sense of the word, but I get a lot out of it and I know my stuff. Problem is, if something eludes my mental grasp (see: math, all types except geometry), I simultaneously lose interest and get frustrated, and then...poof! A C- or D+ appears on my transcripts. Hell, even the dreaded...well, you know what the worst grade is. Let's just say I've received one or two in my otherwise august academic career.
Not worried about the aforementioned "losing interest" bit in grad school, however; I love history and won't have to take anything but. But something else is weighing on me here -- the logisitics of graduate school.
Undergrad? Meh. Mom and Dad took care of that -- not too say they paid for all of it (they did foot a majority-sized chunk of the bill, though), but Mom is great with details and set it all up. All I had to do was go to class, work my ten hours a week at the Student Union (until I was let go junior year -- seems they were downsizing the number of thieves they kept on their payroll) or the school paper, and that was that. Rest of time devoted solely to self-centered pursuits. I worry about those loans now, but not at the time.
But this time, M and D, God love 'em, aren't helping (not that I would dream of asking), and so it's all on my shoulders. And I'm nervous. Got some financial help from the ol' history department (TA Blue! Whoo!), but living and the rest of tuition is up to me.
Basically, here's my plea: if anyone in the LA area knows of media jobs or the like, let me know. If anyone knows how to find out the addresses, names, and numbers of any newspaper's LA bureau, let me know. Ditto TV news channels, magazines, anything.
I'd sure appreciate any help that comes this way.
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
So it's been some days since my last post: some might say it's been too many days. I think, though, that when you hear my series of...well, excuses, you'll totally forgive me.
First of all, been super-busy of late.The Division One softball team I cover (The Anthony Wayne Generals) has marched through the Sectional, District, and Regional playoffs to reach the state semifinals (you can read my friend Steve Junga's article here -- my articles aren't on the Web) and I've been there each step of the way. It's kind of exciting, since no sports team from AW (my alma mater, by the way) has ever won a state championship.
Secondly (and this is the big news), I recently learned that I've been accepted into Pepeprdine University's MA program in history. So I've trying to work all that stuff out.
So as you might be able to see, I've got a few things on my plate right now, hence the drop-off in posting. But I'll come back around.
First of all, been super-busy of late.The Division One softball team I cover (The Anthony Wayne Generals) has marched through the Sectional, District, and Regional playoffs to reach the state semifinals (you can read my friend Steve Junga's article here -- my articles aren't on the Web) and I've been there each step of the way. It's kind of exciting, since no sports team from AW (my alma mater, by the way) has ever won a state championship.
Secondly (and this is the big news), I recently learned that I've been accepted into Pepeprdine University's MA program in history. So I've trying to work all that stuff out.
So as you might be able to see, I've got a few things on my plate right now, hence the drop-off in posting. But I'll come back around.
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
There's a lot of talk swirling around right now about the Jayson Blair "scandal" right now, and rightly so. But there's an angle that's bugging me -- one thing I've been seeing on some publishing/media message boards (oh, OK -- Fametracker. Happy?) is that some journalists and others think that only conservative commentators (i.e. Andrew Sullivan and Willam Safire) are bringing up the race angle. And I have to take issue with that.
See, wasn't it the New York Times itself that first brought it up, unbidden? They said in their recent mea culpa:
As Sullivan says, what then was the reason he was hired? Glowing recommendations or an effort to diversify the newsroom?
Look, I'm sure we all get a bit squeamish talking about the race issue, but I'm going to plow ahead, and if you disagree with me, tell me so.
Jayson Bliar was in no way a crummy reporter because he was black, and his "sins" should in no way reflect poorly on black journalsits or black people in general. In my mind, there's no connection there whatsoever.
What the scandal might reflect poorly upon is the notion that diversity in a workplace is more important than getting the quality folks in there in the first place. But it was executive editor Howell Raines who said, "'This [aforementioned internship] campaign has made our staff better and, more importantly, more diverse." (From TimesWatch, talking about an NPR piece. Again, Andrew Sullivan pointed it out.)
Jayson Blair may have been hired because his race made him attractive to an organization that may in some cases value diversity above quality. Moreover, he may have been kept on for so long for precisely the same reason. Does that mean all black journalists, employees, workers, whatever are in the same boat, or are slipshod workers? No, of course not. Does it mean that Sullivan, Safire, myself (wow, mentioned in the same sentence!), and others are racists? No. Does it mean that the system that makes organizations like the New York Times look the other way in order to preserve its diversity is fundamentally flawed? Yes.
I applied for a job at the New York Times straight out of college, and I didn't get it. I didn't think I would, as I was grossly underqualified. But I wanted to move to NYC and figured, "What the hell." But Jayson Blair got hired by the Times (first through the internship route) without even graduating from college! Did the Times' editors wet themselves when they saw the chance to hire on a black reporter that they could turn into a superstar? Looks like they did.
I guess what I'm getting at here is that it's easy to demonize conservative commentators for supposedly bringing up the race thing. After all, there's a popular undercurrent among liberal thinkers that all conservatives are racists (won't even get into that right now). But, first of all, I'm not sure they brought it up first anyway; and secondly, maybe we shouldn't be scared to talk about it in this instance. After all, no one's saying that it's a problem affecting all reporters or journos who happen to be minorities. But there is at least some evidence that Blair may not have been able to inflict the damage he did if the Times' management weren't so hell-bent on diversifying their newsroom, and then afraid of looking bad when one of their golden boys turns out to be a fraud.
I think what people are realizing here is maybe that the "newspaper of record" isn't as much of a meritocracy as we all thought. Then again, maybe we all knew, deep down, that it wasn't. And that's just a damn shame.
See, wasn't it the New York Times itself that first brought it up, unbidden? They said in their recent mea culpa:
Mr. Blair's Times supervisors and Maryland professors emphasize that he earned an internship at The Times because of glowing recommendations and a remarkable work history, not because he is black. The Times offered him a slot in an internship program that was then being used in large part to help the paper diversify its newsroom.
As Sullivan says, what then was the reason he was hired? Glowing recommendations or an effort to diversify the newsroom?
Look, I'm sure we all get a bit squeamish talking about the race issue, but I'm going to plow ahead, and if you disagree with me, tell me so.
Jayson Bliar was in no way a crummy reporter because he was black, and his "sins" should in no way reflect poorly on black journalsits or black people in general. In my mind, there's no connection there whatsoever.
What the scandal might reflect poorly upon is the notion that diversity in a workplace is more important than getting the quality folks in there in the first place. But it was executive editor Howell Raines who said, "'This [aforementioned internship] campaign has made our staff better and, more importantly, more diverse." (From TimesWatch, talking about an NPR piece. Again, Andrew Sullivan pointed it out.)
Jayson Blair may have been hired because his race made him attractive to an organization that may in some cases value diversity above quality. Moreover, he may have been kept on for so long for precisely the same reason. Does that mean all black journalists, employees, workers, whatever are in the same boat, or are slipshod workers? No, of course not. Does it mean that Sullivan, Safire, myself (wow, mentioned in the same sentence!), and others are racists? No. Does it mean that the system that makes organizations like the New York Times look the other way in order to preserve its diversity is fundamentally flawed? Yes.
I applied for a job at the New York Times straight out of college, and I didn't get it. I didn't think I would, as I was grossly underqualified. But I wanted to move to NYC and figured, "What the hell." But Jayson Blair got hired by the Times (first through the internship route) without even graduating from college! Did the Times' editors wet themselves when they saw the chance to hire on a black reporter that they could turn into a superstar? Looks like they did.
I guess what I'm getting at here is that it's easy to demonize conservative commentators for supposedly bringing up the race thing. After all, there's a popular undercurrent among liberal thinkers that all conservatives are racists (won't even get into that right now). But, first of all, I'm not sure they brought it up first anyway; and secondly, maybe we shouldn't be scared to talk about it in this instance. After all, no one's saying that it's a problem affecting all reporters or journos who happen to be minorities. But there is at least some evidence that Blair may not have been able to inflict the damage he did if the Times' management weren't so hell-bent on diversifying their newsroom, and then afraid of looking bad when one of their golden boys turns out to be a fraud.
I think what people are realizing here is maybe that the "newspaper of record" isn't as much of a meritocracy as we all thought. Then again, maybe we all knew, deep down, that it wasn't. And that's just a damn shame.
Monday, May 12, 2003
Couple of quick things...
First, my friend Dave has a new blog -- just started it this past weekend, and you should check it out. He's a hell of a fiction writer, and I guess that's the bulk of what he's going to do on his site. Don't believe anything he says about me, though. It's simply not true.
Also, has anyone been following the Jayson Blair saga (link requires free registration)? It blows my mind that someone who that kind of opportunity -- getting to write for the New York Times, starting at age 23 -- would screw it up so terrible. Andrew Sullivan has been following it closely, so check it out.
More on it later. Busy busy right now.
First, my friend Dave has a new blog -- just started it this past weekend, and you should check it out. He's a hell of a fiction writer, and I guess that's the bulk of what he's going to do on his site. Don't believe anything he says about me, though. It's simply not true.
Also, has anyone been following the Jayson Blair saga (link requires free registration)? It blows my mind that someone who that kind of opportunity -- getting to write for the New York Times, starting at age 23 -- would screw it up so terrible. Andrew Sullivan has been following it closely, so check it out.
More on it later. Busy busy right now.
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