Check out this Op-Ed from the NY Times. Good stuff.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/25/opinion/25hart.html?th&emc=th
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Reviews: A Potpourri
Over the last three weeks I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy several epochal cultural phenomena, and always eager to share that which has knocked my socks off, I submit to you all the following can’t miss works of art:
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer: To say this book blew my mind is an understatement, for it altered every idea I had about what a novel is, was, and could hope to be. To be honest, when I picked it up and read the synopsis I was skeptical at best. I have little tolerance for exploitation and I saw the plot, a young boy dealing with his father’s death in the World Trade Center, as exploitative schlock at its worst. But I’ve never read a book that dealt so poignantly with grief, human connection and self-knowledge. The book is everything at once: a wild adventure, a love story, a pacifist tome, a reflection on memory, a historical fiction, a comedy, a tragedy, etc. etc.
But in the end it’s the simple story of a boy seeking understanding, and it’s phenomenal. In a way, it’s depressing that the best possible novel has already been written. But you should read it anyway.
Henderson the Rain King, Saul Bellow: This book takes us into the heart of undiscovered Africa with Eugene Henderson, a middle-aged patriarch and wealthy heir seeking to burst his spirit’s sleep and quell the internal voice that screams I want I want I want. This book explores self-consciousness and happiness (or more specifically contentment). Is it enough to just get by, to live life and ask for nothing more, or by doing so are we suppressing our call for something better? This theme particularly resonated with me, and I suspect it will with some of you as well.
Ragtime, E. L. Doctorow: If you have even a minor interest in American History this book is worth checking out. Seamlessly weaving real historical figures (Houdini, J.P Morgan, Henry Ford, Emma Goldman) and fictional characters in early 1900’s New York, Ragtime is one of the more engaging narratives I’ve read.
Big Bang Theory: This CBS sitcom is fairly formulaic in the 30-minute laugher tradition, but in my opinion does it better than any other show on TV right now (The Office seems to have lost its bearings). It’ll never live up to Seinfeld or Arrested Development standards (and it follows more of a linear story line…think Friends), but in the huge pile of sitcom shit it definitely rises to the top. It has likeable characters, a funny premise and every word out of Sheldon’s mouth is comedic gold.
Viva la Vida, Coldplay: The progression of Coldplay’s career has been an interesting one for me. The first major release, Parachutes, was simple, sincere, not quite gritty but far from produced. Just four great musicians with serious melodic intuitions playing great songs. Guitars, piano and drums. No fanfare. No expectation. It was also the source of a few songs that remain my favorites to this day.
Then came A Rush of Blood to the Head, their sophomore effort that produced major pop hits, including Clocks and The Scientist, making Coldplay bonafide superstars and the heir apparent to U2. They turned political, donning the equality sign to show their support for Fair Trade. Lead singer Christopher Martin married Gwenyth Paltrow. They became rock stars, and celebrities.
In X&Y this newfound rock star status, and their efforts to meet expectations, showed a bit. Every song felt like an epic. The organ became a featured instrument. They sounded like they were trying to bear the weight of the world and right every injustice with each lyric. The music was still amazing, the melodies still spot on, but it was exhausting (and Chris Martin was starting to sound like more and more of a sissy with the falsetto. Don’t get me wrong, he’s got a good falsetto, but a little goes a long way).
Viva la Vida says f*%$ that. We’re four damned good musicians and this album’s for us. And by the way, you’re gonna like it. And I do. Sometimes it’s funky (Lovers in Japan), sometimes it’s bluesy (Cemeteries in London), sometimes it can only be described as twangy orchestral (Yes). At least one song ought to feature Ludacris (Lost), and the single Violet Hill is arguably Coldplay’s first true rocker (or close enough).
Thanks for reading.
P.S. Mr. A, thanks for the link in the last comments section. James Dobson is a douche and a fraud. Maybe I’ll bring back People of Note in his honor.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer: To say this book blew my mind is an understatement, for it altered every idea I had about what a novel is, was, and could hope to be. To be honest, when I picked it up and read the synopsis I was skeptical at best. I have little tolerance for exploitation and I saw the plot, a young boy dealing with his father’s death in the World Trade Center, as exploitative schlock at its worst. But I’ve never read a book that dealt so poignantly with grief, human connection and self-knowledge. The book is everything at once: a wild adventure, a love story, a pacifist tome, a reflection on memory, a historical fiction, a comedy, a tragedy, etc. etc.
But in the end it’s the simple story of a boy seeking understanding, and it’s phenomenal. In a way, it’s depressing that the best possible novel has already been written. But you should read it anyway.
Henderson the Rain King, Saul Bellow: This book takes us into the heart of undiscovered Africa with Eugene Henderson, a middle-aged patriarch and wealthy heir seeking to burst his spirit’s sleep and quell the internal voice that screams I want I want I want. This book explores self-consciousness and happiness (or more specifically contentment). Is it enough to just get by, to live life and ask for nothing more, or by doing so are we suppressing our call for something better? This theme particularly resonated with me, and I suspect it will with some of you as well.
Ragtime, E. L. Doctorow: If you have even a minor interest in American History this book is worth checking out. Seamlessly weaving real historical figures (Houdini, J.P Morgan, Henry Ford, Emma Goldman) and fictional characters in early 1900’s New York, Ragtime is one of the more engaging narratives I’ve read.
Big Bang Theory: This CBS sitcom is fairly formulaic in the 30-minute laugher tradition, but in my opinion does it better than any other show on TV right now (The Office seems to have lost its bearings). It’ll never live up to Seinfeld or Arrested Development standards (and it follows more of a linear story line…think Friends), but in the huge pile of sitcom shit it definitely rises to the top. It has likeable characters, a funny premise and every word out of Sheldon’s mouth is comedic gold.
Viva la Vida, Coldplay: The progression of Coldplay’s career has been an interesting one for me. The first major release, Parachutes, was simple, sincere, not quite gritty but far from produced. Just four great musicians with serious melodic intuitions playing great songs. Guitars, piano and drums. No fanfare. No expectation. It was also the source of a few songs that remain my favorites to this day.
Then came A Rush of Blood to the Head, their sophomore effort that produced major pop hits, including Clocks and The Scientist, making Coldplay bonafide superstars and the heir apparent to U2. They turned political, donning the equality sign to show their support for Fair Trade. Lead singer Christopher Martin married Gwenyth Paltrow. They became rock stars, and celebrities.
In X&Y this newfound rock star status, and their efforts to meet expectations, showed a bit. Every song felt like an epic. The organ became a featured instrument. They sounded like they were trying to bear the weight of the world and right every injustice with each lyric. The music was still amazing, the melodies still spot on, but it was exhausting (and Chris Martin was starting to sound like more and more of a sissy with the falsetto. Don’t get me wrong, he’s got a good falsetto, but a little goes a long way).
Viva la Vida says f*%$ that. We’re four damned good musicians and this album’s for us. And by the way, you’re gonna like it. And I do. Sometimes it’s funky (Lovers in Japan), sometimes it’s bluesy (Cemeteries in London), sometimes it can only be described as twangy orchestral (Yes). At least one song ought to feature Ludacris (Lost), and the single Violet Hill is arguably Coldplay’s first true rocker (or close enough).
Thanks for reading.
P.S. Mr. A, thanks for the link in the last comments section. James Dobson is a douche and a fraud. Maybe I’ll bring back People of Note in his honor.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Clinton Backers Bolstering Negative Stereotypes
The latest chatter out of that special circle of hell reserved for poli-pundits is aflame with speculation that large groups of avid female Hillary Clinton supporters are so disillusioned by alleged “misogyny” during the primaries that they are threatening to defect to McCain in the general election.
I don’t grant this conjecture much credence, as it’s based largely on ambiguous polls and anecdotal evidence, and trust it will prove wholly ungrounded as we draw closer to November. The “survey group,” shadowy figures that have vaguely hinted they may leave the Democratic camp after Hillary’s loss, may well be the same ignorant West Virginians who still assert that Obama is a Muslim (sorry to generalize, West Virginia, but I’ve seen a number of interviews starring your residents that have made the state look, to put it bluntly, laughably uneducated. It’s tough to find such blatant racism in America these days, but your citizens are either too dumb or too bold (maybe on account of all the guns) to censor themselves on camera. If the shoe fits…) or bra burning Ferraro types who believe Obama has had all the breaks because he’s black (that’s a new one).
Despite my reservations about the plausibility of large swaths of Democratic defectors, the fact that this group of Hillary-gone-McCain backers exists, and is surprisingly vocal considering their lack of a public face or organization, raises some interesting questions about how well the Clinton campaign actually served the feminist cause.
Generations of women in power positions, politics and intellectual circles have had to dodge charges of being spiteful, bitter, and begrudging. They’ve had to prove that they’re capable of making rational, calculated decisions based on the best interests of those they serve and influence, putting petty squabbles aside. They’ve had to prove they aren’t illogical, emotional flakes persistently afflicted by bouts of PMS and dog-eat-dog b-word-iness.
These are unfair stereotypes, no doubt, but now we have a group of women willing to split their party and ignore their values because they feel slighted by media-bullies. Willing to self-sabotage their political efforts, throw the election and ostensibly everything their hero Mrs. Clinton has worked for, all in the name of vengeance. They are securing a reputation for themselves as illogical, emotional flakes.
Throughout the primaries, Obama backers were accused of following a cult of personality. But here we have Clinton supporters demonstrating that they either don’t understand or don’t care about the issues (on which Obama and Clinton are, in some instances, alarmingly close) and apparently backed the candidate as a deluded act of hero-worship
If the issue of race entered the discussion (such as Bill’s thinly veiled racism in comparing Obama to Jesse Jackson or the Reverend Wright fiasco or the multiple insinuations that Obama was a radical Muslim in disguise) Barack was accused of taking umbrage, of using race to his advantage, of playing the proverbial race card. But now we have the defeated party playing the “poor little girl excluded from the boys-club” card. The hypocrisy is exhausting and sickening. I have to wonder if these people feel truly wronged or if they’re just pouting because they didn’t get their way.
Too bad for feminism. It’s hard to kill stereotypes when you have members of your own ranks exemplifying them.
On the other hand, would I have voted for Hillary in the general should she have gotten the nod? Hell no! But I wouldn’t have played the race card either. I would, however, have played the “Hillary is a slimy, pandering, lying she-devil of a politician” card. Does this make me a hypocrite? Technically, no (I’m not a registered Democrat). Does it make me a misogynist? If misogyny is defined as: a dude who finds the prospect of another 8 years of Clinton chicanery absolutely nauseating, then sign me up.
Thanks for reading.
As a side note, did you all hear any of Obama’s weekend speech on the failures of young fathers? Yet another honest discussion of a serious social problem, and a confrontation most politicians wouldn’t have the cajones to take on at this stage in the game. Kudos.
I don’t grant this conjecture much credence, as it’s based largely on ambiguous polls and anecdotal evidence, and trust it will prove wholly ungrounded as we draw closer to November. The “survey group,” shadowy figures that have vaguely hinted they may leave the Democratic camp after Hillary’s loss, may well be the same ignorant West Virginians who still assert that Obama is a Muslim (sorry to generalize, West Virginia, but I’ve seen a number of interviews starring your residents that have made the state look, to put it bluntly, laughably uneducated. It’s tough to find such blatant racism in America these days, but your citizens are either too dumb or too bold (maybe on account of all the guns) to censor themselves on camera. If the shoe fits…) or bra burning Ferraro types who believe Obama has had all the breaks because he’s black (that’s a new one).
Despite my reservations about the plausibility of large swaths of Democratic defectors, the fact that this group of Hillary-gone-McCain backers exists, and is surprisingly vocal considering their lack of a public face or organization, raises some interesting questions about how well the Clinton campaign actually served the feminist cause.
Generations of women in power positions, politics and intellectual circles have had to dodge charges of being spiteful, bitter, and begrudging. They’ve had to prove that they’re capable of making rational, calculated decisions based on the best interests of those they serve and influence, putting petty squabbles aside. They’ve had to prove they aren’t illogical, emotional flakes persistently afflicted by bouts of PMS and dog-eat-dog b-word-iness.
These are unfair stereotypes, no doubt, but now we have a group of women willing to split their party and ignore their values because they feel slighted by media-bullies. Willing to self-sabotage their political efforts, throw the election and ostensibly everything their hero Mrs. Clinton has worked for, all in the name of vengeance. They are securing a reputation for themselves as illogical, emotional flakes.
Throughout the primaries, Obama backers were accused of following a cult of personality. But here we have Clinton supporters demonstrating that they either don’t understand or don’t care about the issues (on which Obama and Clinton are, in some instances, alarmingly close) and apparently backed the candidate as a deluded act of hero-worship
If the issue of race entered the discussion (such as Bill’s thinly veiled racism in comparing Obama to Jesse Jackson or the Reverend Wright fiasco or the multiple insinuations that Obama was a radical Muslim in disguise) Barack was accused of taking umbrage, of using race to his advantage, of playing the proverbial race card. But now we have the defeated party playing the “poor little girl excluded from the boys-club” card. The hypocrisy is exhausting and sickening. I have to wonder if these people feel truly wronged or if they’re just pouting because they didn’t get their way.
Too bad for feminism. It’s hard to kill stereotypes when you have members of your own ranks exemplifying them.
On the other hand, would I have voted for Hillary in the general should she have gotten the nod? Hell no! But I wouldn’t have played the race card either. I would, however, have played the “Hillary is a slimy, pandering, lying she-devil of a politician” card. Does this make me a hypocrite? Technically, no (I’m not a registered Democrat). Does it make me a misogynist? If misogyny is defined as: a dude who finds the prospect of another 8 years of Clinton chicanery absolutely nauseating, then sign me up.
Thanks for reading.
As a side note, did you all hear any of Obama’s weekend speech on the failures of young fathers? Yet another honest discussion of a serious social problem, and a confrontation most politicians wouldn’t have the cajones to take on at this stage in the game. Kudos.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Zizzle-Zot Buys Macbook, Feels Quite Smug
I make it no secret that I consider myself an elitist. I like big books, foreign films, theater, museums, fine dining, and to top it off I’m somewhat of a beer snob (I have no time for people who choose to drink Budweiser). I live in the arts community of Northeast Minneapolis. I think pop culture is slowly but steadily killing us. I think well over half of Americans are too dumb to govern themselves (scary, considering they make a majority), which is why I’m thankful we’re a constitutional republic and not a true democracy (attribution to Aaron Russo). I can’t comprehend the uproar over Barack Obama’s perceived elitism (would we really want a true populist – one who appealed to the lowest common denominator – to be president?)
Truthfully, the very nature of this blog is elitist, and by participating you all are, at the very least, elitists by implication. We have the audacity to criticize the world, to discuss moral absolutes, to philosophize on better ways. We have liberal arts educations. Our idea of a good time is Star Wars: Epic Duels (oh wait, that just makes us nerds). Regardless, we’re firmly entrenched in the elitist camp.
Unfortunately, I find myself lacking several of the trademarks of a true elitist. My car isn’t a hybrid (that’s right, it’s powered by old-fashioned gasoline, and to be honest I suspect hybrids are only a few steps above ethanol on the “stupid ideas that stupid people think will save the world” scale. Honestly…these people with their hybrid SUVs that get 26 miles/gallon…are they being serious? Show me a feasible hydrogen-powered car, and I’ll call you an innovator). I’m only fluent in one language (four years of Spanish and nothing to show for it). I don’t buy organic food (too expensive).
I don’t even own a Mac…
Oh wait, yes I do! In fact, I’m writing on it right now!!! I guess there was no point to this post, other than to let you know that I’m extremely excited about my new MacBook (which you could probably tell because of the unprecedented use of multiple exclamation points).
Sorry all, I’ll try to be less self-serving next week.
Thanks for reading.
To respond to Cassel’s final comments on last week’s post: I think it’s absurd that Obama is getting slammed for saying he would be willing to talk with reviled leaders such as Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il, and Fidel Castro (or I suppose now Raul). These men, and the countries they lead, pose a threat to the global community and there is simply nothing to gain by refusing to meet with them. It will only serve to further alienate and radicalize them (and sanctions hurt the people, not the governments).
I understand the idea is to force them to make concessions before we will come to the table, and we hesitate to legitimize their governments by paying them official visits. But we need to face the fact that they don’t really care if America legitimizes them. Years of mismanaged public relations have cost us our moral authority, and while we remain a power player, we are no longer the sole global superpower we once were. It’s amazing how much ego gets in the way of progress. All of this posturing has the feel of an eight-year-old refusing to invite a friend to his birthday party because of a spat over the last cookie.
It shows that silly partisan politics have a stranglehold on foreign policy. Since when is pragmatism naïve?
Truthfully, the very nature of this blog is elitist, and by participating you all are, at the very least, elitists by implication. We have the audacity to criticize the world, to discuss moral absolutes, to philosophize on better ways. We have liberal arts educations. Our idea of a good time is Star Wars: Epic Duels (oh wait, that just makes us nerds). Regardless, we’re firmly entrenched in the elitist camp.
Unfortunately, I find myself lacking several of the trademarks of a true elitist. My car isn’t a hybrid (that’s right, it’s powered by old-fashioned gasoline, and to be honest I suspect hybrids are only a few steps above ethanol on the “stupid ideas that stupid people think will save the world” scale. Honestly…these people with their hybrid SUVs that get 26 miles/gallon…are they being serious? Show me a feasible hydrogen-powered car, and I’ll call you an innovator). I’m only fluent in one language (four years of Spanish and nothing to show for it). I don’t buy organic food (too expensive).
I don’t even own a Mac…
Oh wait, yes I do! In fact, I’m writing on it right now!!! I guess there was no point to this post, other than to let you know that I’m extremely excited about my new MacBook (which you could probably tell because of the unprecedented use of multiple exclamation points).
Sorry all, I’ll try to be less self-serving next week.
Thanks for reading.
To respond to Cassel’s final comments on last week’s post: I think it’s absurd that Obama is getting slammed for saying he would be willing to talk with reviled leaders such as Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il, and Fidel Castro (or I suppose now Raul). These men, and the countries they lead, pose a threat to the global community and there is simply nothing to gain by refusing to meet with them. It will only serve to further alienate and radicalize them (and sanctions hurt the people, not the governments).
I understand the idea is to force them to make concessions before we will come to the table, and we hesitate to legitimize their governments by paying them official visits. But we need to face the fact that they don’t really care if America legitimizes them. Years of mismanaged public relations have cost us our moral authority, and while we remain a power player, we are no longer the sole global superpower we once were. It’s amazing how much ego gets in the way of progress. All of this posturing has the feel of an eight-year-old refusing to invite a friend to his birthday party because of a spat over the last cookie.
It shows that silly partisan politics have a stranglehold on foreign policy. Since when is pragmatism naïve?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The News
Over the weekend I enjoyed a spirited discussion with Cassel concerning the value of news, and I think it would be interesting to get the rest of you dudes in on it.
The conversation started when I mentioned that I was considering going to grad school for journalism, a pursuit I consider noble and important. It’s long been my belief that as living, thinking and functioning members of society, as well as active participants in history, it’s our responsibility (and right) to be socially aware. To this end I’ve made a concerted effort over the last several years to become a tireless consumer of current events, scouring multiple sources daily to educate myself on global injustices, government processes and notable figures. I often find myself lost in a world of bylines and inverse triangle story structure, breaking news and continually updated feeds scrolling across the bottom of my computer screen. At times I become irritable, too busy inhaling policy discussions and opinion polls to take a minute to breath. Too distraught by death and tragedy to live my life in the here and now. And when people around me are oblivious to the world and don’t see the harm in their ignorance, I’m disgusted.
It boils down to this: the news makes me a pessimist. Politicians are lying snakes. People in general are cruel, bigoted, and irredeemable. We’re all fated to die by war or murder or natural disaster or reliance on foreign oil. Every corner of the globe is rife with hatred, greed, jealousy, rage and violence. And I’m in Minnesota, living my life, not saving the world, and too powerless to know where to begin.
Awareness of mass injustices that I can do nothing about only raises my awareness that the world may be utterly hopeless. My righteous indignation, diluted as it sprinkles over the planet, doesn’t save lives, doesn’t right wrongs, doesn’t change the hearts of the oppressors or lift the spirits of the oppressed. My skepticism over the validity of even “just wars” will never end war (I read somewhere that in 3500 years of civilization there have been a mere 230 years of peace). I fill myself with stories of wrongs that I can’t right, that have no outlet. My outrage is internalized, and I fear I may one day explode. I’m like Mr. Furious from the movie Mystery Men (obscure reference alert).
Thus I arrive at this proposition: perhaps ignorance truly is bliss.
What do you think?
Thanks for reading.
The conversation started when I mentioned that I was considering going to grad school for journalism, a pursuit I consider noble and important. It’s long been my belief that as living, thinking and functioning members of society, as well as active participants in history, it’s our responsibility (and right) to be socially aware. To this end I’ve made a concerted effort over the last several years to become a tireless consumer of current events, scouring multiple sources daily to educate myself on global injustices, government processes and notable figures. I often find myself lost in a world of bylines and inverse triangle story structure, breaking news and continually updated feeds scrolling across the bottom of my computer screen. At times I become irritable, too busy inhaling policy discussions and opinion polls to take a minute to breath. Too distraught by death and tragedy to live my life in the here and now. And when people around me are oblivious to the world and don’t see the harm in their ignorance, I’m disgusted.
It boils down to this: the news makes me a pessimist. Politicians are lying snakes. People in general are cruel, bigoted, and irredeemable. We’re all fated to die by war or murder or natural disaster or reliance on foreign oil. Every corner of the globe is rife with hatred, greed, jealousy, rage and violence. And I’m in Minnesota, living my life, not saving the world, and too powerless to know where to begin.
Awareness of mass injustices that I can do nothing about only raises my awareness that the world may be utterly hopeless. My righteous indignation, diluted as it sprinkles over the planet, doesn’t save lives, doesn’t right wrongs, doesn’t change the hearts of the oppressors or lift the spirits of the oppressed. My skepticism over the validity of even “just wars” will never end war (I read somewhere that in 3500 years of civilization there have been a mere 230 years of peace). I fill myself with stories of wrongs that I can’t right, that have no outlet. My outrage is internalized, and I fear I may one day explode. I’m like Mr. Furious from the movie Mystery Men (obscure reference alert).
Thus I arrive at this proposition: perhaps ignorance truly is bliss.
What do you think?
Thanks for reading.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
