Friday, February 25, 2005
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Kenneth Arnold started it, Richard Dreyfuss made it believable, David Duchovny made it a cult, and Will Smith made it all awful to watch
Well, ABC did it. They aired a 2 hour, prime-time program about UFO’s. They surprising thing to me is not that they aired it, but that they trotted it out in a pseudo-scientific format, with credible journalist Peter Jennings as host.
I have a cursory interest in these sorts of things, because…
a) I was a pretty big sci-fi nerd when I was younger
b) I used to just accept that UFOs exist
c) UFOlogy is closely tied to Christianity
“What?” you ask when you read c). Let me explain.
Both Christianity and UFO lore are fiercely supported by believers, and mocked by disbelievers. Both Christianity and UFO make outrageous claims about science, but neither is founded in or dependant on science. Neither has smoking gun evidence that they do exist. Both rely heavily on eyewitness accounts. Both continue to find support in each new decade. Both find themselves at once the subject of debate, ridicule, and dangerous cults. And, both frustrate detractors to no end, because no amount of scientific data can disprove the theories, or remove the myth/religion from the mind of man.
We’ll deal with religion in many other entries, but I do want to talk shortly about UFOs. Seeing is believing, as they say, but there are so many who believe who have not seen. Is this safe? Is it valid? And is it even worth looking into? Can’t we just let UFO buffs exist happily without trying to unweave their rainbows (to borrow Richard Dawkins’ brilliant book title).
UFO lore is steeped in conspiracy theories; some so deep and convoluted that there is no way to possibly have a lucid debate over the existence of UFOs. The official position of the US Government is that they do not investigate UFO activity. So if the government is not worried about our air space being compromised, then maybe there isn’t anything to the whole UFO thing, right?
Well, even the harshest skeptic will admit that the government isn’t exactly the most truthful organization. From the little truths and exposed cover-ups spring vast conspiracy theories. This was alive from day one in the UFO debate; stemming from the Roswell incident. A UFO crashed, we are told, on a rancher’s property. The Air Force immediately arrived to investigate. A military man mistakenly allowed himself to have himself photographed with the debris, allowing the press to say it was an UFO. Then came the immediate denial. And, as they say, we were off to the races.
The government’s dark side also helps feed some other weird theories. Is there a Hangar 18 or Area 51 where our secret government scientists study captured UFOs and aliens? Would we fund such a thing? Well, in the 1980’s, the government put a ton of cash into experimentation with remote sensing and ESP. This is documented, and in my opinion, very embarrassing.
The UFO phenomenon is so closely tied to the Cold War era, and all of its conspiracy, cloak and dagger, mass hysteria, and misinformation that it is hopelessly mired in the same troubles. For every proof against, there is a theory righting the counter-theory. So UFOs will always remain.
But should be wasting our time looking into it? It is already assumed that you are not going to convince UFO faithful that they are wrong. A lot of these people have seen things with their own eyes, and will accept no counter-theories. This stubbornness is only further fueled with corroborative reports from other people, and the occasional mysterious confirmation from within the military or government.
Much like Creationism and the notion of Christianity itself, there seems to be some driving need for the scientific community to address UFOs. The scientific community, being concerned with truth, is ultimately the best place to look into such phenomenon. But, I believe, it may be a waste of time. Are there questions science can not ask? No. Are there some they should not bother asking? Yes.
UFOs (and aliens) are so deeply ingrained in our popular culture, that it is a fire that will never be extinguished. It’s fun to think about mysterious otherworldly disks, and their extraterrestrial pilots. Hollywood makes great movies about UFOs, some campy, but others quite convincing. Then there are the comics, the books, TV shows, and the magazine articles.
As many sociologists have realized, the invention of accessible media (starting with the printing press) has undeniably changed human society. We are influenced constantly by messages that bombard us from every angle. Sounds and sights that are constantly available, humming away in every corner of our cities. Many of the messages that drive our cultures are latent; that is, they are embedded so deeply in urban folklore, fiction, and advertising that the sheer repetition begins to create amiability.
This has been studied with regard to attitudes on violence, sex, and religion. Influence weighs very heavy. This is why we see UFOs not being a fringe interest, but a part of popular myth. So much so, that the government has to constantly issue statements. So much so, that there is a new sighting every year that seemingly “blows the roof off” of the debate. So much so, that ABC gambled that a two-hour prime time spot would garner enough interest that it would make enough money to warrant showing (opposite of Survivor and The Apprentice by the way). So much so, that a respected and high profile journalist hosts the said show.
Science has so many better things to look into. UFO belief, other than possibly being falsehood, is somewhat harmless. It’s no secret that Americans have superstitious leanings, and that science is not exactly alive and well in the hearts of our citizens. Rather than fight this on every front, it is better to choose our battles. If we must do anything, we should stick to endeavors like SETI, which offer a logical and scientific way to ask questions and gather data. But SETI has yet to yield anything of interest in 40 years, and in the meantime it has lost all sorts of money and time.
There is nothing wrong with searching; it is healthy and rewarding. But science has so many better areas to point its resources. We still have a huge issue of human origins/evolution to iron out (which regardless of the opinion of many, has huge implications on human society, religion, and history). We also have diseases that we may be able to cure, a planet that we may finally be able to explore more fully (Mars), a vast ocean to navigate, environmental problems to solve, and so on. Science has a full plate, and there just doesn’t need to be room made for UFOs. Leave that to Art Bell, Star Trek, and armchair physicists.
So what I do I believe about UFOs? I am not sure. I don’t think I can come up with a hypothesis to help me decide. I’m pretty sure that eyewitness accounts are not entirely reliable (no matter how compelling). The photos and videos all have a hint of credibility trouble. I am also very aware of the fact that interstellar travel, by what we know about physics, just doesn’t seem to be probable. And furthermore, I am relatively sure that if there was something to it, that there would be some definitive proof by now. I could be wrong. But like fundamental Christianity, there just seems to be something that doesn’t jive with everything else we know, and begs a degree of healthy doubt.
So, its cool that ABC teased us all with the prospect of UFOs. It is a little odd that they would lend a little subliminal credibility to the theory by the way it was presented (if it was on Fox, hosted by Geraldo, we wouldn’t have had to even think twice about credibility). And science probably shouldn’t waste any real time or resources on trying to solve the question. But it is fun to think about. And it won’t go away any time soon.
Horn’s up.
PS – It was nice to see Michael Shermer on national TV. He is a bit sold-out to his causes, but he is a brilliant man, and is honestly concerned with understand the universe as it is, not as we see it, think it is, are told that it is, or want it to be. Shermer is one of the few people who I tend to lend some credibility to (but even then I check his sources from time to time). :)
I have a cursory interest in these sorts of things, because…
a) I was a pretty big sci-fi nerd when I was younger
b) I used to just accept that UFOs exist
c) UFOlogy is closely tied to Christianity
“What?” you ask when you read c). Let me explain.
Both Christianity and UFO lore are fiercely supported by believers, and mocked by disbelievers. Both Christianity and UFO make outrageous claims about science, but neither is founded in or dependant on science. Neither has smoking gun evidence that they do exist. Both rely heavily on eyewitness accounts. Both continue to find support in each new decade. Both find themselves at once the subject of debate, ridicule, and dangerous cults. And, both frustrate detractors to no end, because no amount of scientific data can disprove the theories, or remove the myth/religion from the mind of man.
We’ll deal with religion in many other entries, but I do want to talk shortly about UFOs. Seeing is believing, as they say, but there are so many who believe who have not seen. Is this safe? Is it valid? And is it even worth looking into? Can’t we just let UFO buffs exist happily without trying to unweave their rainbows (to borrow Richard Dawkins’ brilliant book title).
UFO lore is steeped in conspiracy theories; some so deep and convoluted that there is no way to possibly have a lucid debate over the existence of UFOs. The official position of the US Government is that they do not investigate UFO activity. So if the government is not worried about our air space being compromised, then maybe there isn’t anything to the whole UFO thing, right?
Well, even the harshest skeptic will admit that the government isn’t exactly the most truthful organization. From the little truths and exposed cover-ups spring vast conspiracy theories. This was alive from day one in the UFO debate; stemming from the Roswell incident. A UFO crashed, we are told, on a rancher’s property. The Air Force immediately arrived to investigate. A military man mistakenly allowed himself to have himself photographed with the debris, allowing the press to say it was an UFO. Then came the immediate denial. And, as they say, we were off to the races.
The government’s dark side also helps feed some other weird theories. Is there a Hangar 18 or Area 51 where our secret government scientists study captured UFOs and aliens? Would we fund such a thing? Well, in the 1980’s, the government put a ton of cash into experimentation with remote sensing and ESP. This is documented, and in my opinion, very embarrassing.
The UFO phenomenon is so closely tied to the Cold War era, and all of its conspiracy, cloak and dagger, mass hysteria, and misinformation that it is hopelessly mired in the same troubles. For every proof against, there is a theory righting the counter-theory. So UFOs will always remain.
But should be wasting our time looking into it? It is already assumed that you are not going to convince UFO faithful that they are wrong. A lot of these people have seen things with their own eyes, and will accept no counter-theories. This stubbornness is only further fueled with corroborative reports from other people, and the occasional mysterious confirmation from within the military or government.
Much like Creationism and the notion of Christianity itself, there seems to be some driving need for the scientific community to address UFOs. The scientific community, being concerned with truth, is ultimately the best place to look into such phenomenon. But, I believe, it may be a waste of time. Are there questions science can not ask? No. Are there some they should not bother asking? Yes.
UFOs (and aliens) are so deeply ingrained in our popular culture, that it is a fire that will never be extinguished. It’s fun to think about mysterious otherworldly disks, and their extraterrestrial pilots. Hollywood makes great movies about UFOs, some campy, but others quite convincing. Then there are the comics, the books, TV shows, and the magazine articles.
As many sociologists have realized, the invention of accessible media (starting with the printing press) has undeniably changed human society. We are influenced constantly by messages that bombard us from every angle. Sounds and sights that are constantly available, humming away in every corner of our cities. Many of the messages that drive our cultures are latent; that is, they are embedded so deeply in urban folklore, fiction, and advertising that the sheer repetition begins to create amiability.
This has been studied with regard to attitudes on violence, sex, and religion. Influence weighs very heavy. This is why we see UFOs not being a fringe interest, but a part of popular myth. So much so, that the government has to constantly issue statements. So much so, that there is a new sighting every year that seemingly “blows the roof off” of the debate. So much so, that ABC gambled that a two-hour prime time spot would garner enough interest that it would make enough money to warrant showing (opposite of Survivor and The Apprentice by the way). So much so, that a respected and high profile journalist hosts the said show.
Science has so many better things to look into. UFO belief, other than possibly being falsehood, is somewhat harmless. It’s no secret that Americans have superstitious leanings, and that science is not exactly alive and well in the hearts of our citizens. Rather than fight this on every front, it is better to choose our battles. If we must do anything, we should stick to endeavors like SETI, which offer a logical and scientific way to ask questions and gather data. But SETI has yet to yield anything of interest in 40 years, and in the meantime it has lost all sorts of money and time.
There is nothing wrong with searching; it is healthy and rewarding. But science has so many better areas to point its resources. We still have a huge issue of human origins/evolution to iron out (which regardless of the opinion of many, has huge implications on human society, religion, and history). We also have diseases that we may be able to cure, a planet that we may finally be able to explore more fully (Mars), a vast ocean to navigate, environmental problems to solve, and so on. Science has a full plate, and there just doesn’t need to be room made for UFOs. Leave that to Art Bell, Star Trek, and armchair physicists.
So what I do I believe about UFOs? I am not sure. I don’t think I can come up with a hypothesis to help me decide. I’m pretty sure that eyewitness accounts are not entirely reliable (no matter how compelling). The photos and videos all have a hint of credibility trouble. I am also very aware of the fact that interstellar travel, by what we know about physics, just doesn’t seem to be probable. And furthermore, I am relatively sure that if there was something to it, that there would be some definitive proof by now. I could be wrong. But like fundamental Christianity, there just seems to be something that doesn’t jive with everything else we know, and begs a degree of healthy doubt.
So, its cool that ABC teased us all with the prospect of UFOs. It is a little odd that they would lend a little subliminal credibility to the theory by the way it was presented (if it was on Fox, hosted by Geraldo, we wouldn’t have had to even think twice about credibility). And science probably shouldn’t waste any real time or resources on trying to solve the question. But it is fun to think about. And it won’t go away any time soon.
Horn’s up.
PS – It was nice to see Michael Shermer on national TV. He is a bit sold-out to his causes, but he is a brilliant man, and is honestly concerned with understand the universe as it is, not as we see it, think it is, are told that it is, or want it to be. Shermer is one of the few people who I tend to lend some credibility to (but even then I check his sources from time to time). :)
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
It's like nerd catnip. (part 2 of the ongoing "catnip" theme)
You know you are jealous! It's my newest treasure... a lovely old-freakin'-school PS2 controller. Isn't she lovely? Other than the ergonomic backside and the lighted buttons, it is just like the old NES controller (or "paddle" if you are totally old school). Pretty flippin' sweet. Its like I am back playing Kid Icarus and Nobunoga's Ambition all over again... Horns up!
Friday, February 18, 2005
Now Playing on 102.5 FM KARL
Today's post may be a little heavy for some of my regular readers, so I decided to add a little recap of what is pumping out of the world's greatest radio station. FYI, the Nomad has 4000 songs on it now, and STILL has over half it's space left (just over 20 GB free out of 40 GB).
If anyone wants to email me any cool songs in WMA or MP3 format, to add to the station's library, feel free to!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Currently Playing:
The Anchor Song - Bjork
Last Dozen Songs:
If anyone wants to email me any cool songs in WMA or MP3 format, to add to the station's library, feel free to!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Currently Playing:
The Anchor Song - Bjork
Last Dozen Songs:
- You - Bad Religion
- Aeroplane - Red Hot Chili Peppers
- Whispering Weeds - Frank Black
- Little Suzi - Tesla
- I Want You to Die - Mondo Generator
- '03 Bonnie & Clyde - Jay-Z and Beyonce
- I'm the One - Van Halen
- The Politics of Time - Minutemen
- 100 Years - Masters of Reality
- Use Me - Bill Withers
- Fade to Black - Metallica
- Pork Roll Egg and Cheese - Ween
Horns up!
It's like gay catnip.
I haven't talked about homosexuality in a while, so I thought I would bring it up. There seems to be a couple of big stories out there about the whole "gay" debate. I'll address each thing separately, to try my hardest to keep myself from rambling all over the place! : )
It isn't that drug use by homosexuals is shocking. They are, despite the theories of some, average American human beings... and like it or not, America is a drugged up country. Drug use is high, no pun intended. If you are into tracking such things, you will notice that the rise of meth is at epic proportions in many areas of the nation. So why wouldn't this abuse be evenly distributed among homosexual populations?
As a humorous aside, the thing that shocked me was that the homosexual community would be in for such a dirty drug. We are led to believe in certain stereotypes about homosexuals; in the 70's they were the free-love, disco, and cocaine crowd. In the 80's I think they were portrayed as much of the same, but with pills and different music. In the 90's, we start to get the message that homosexuals are immaculate in dress and culture, politically active, and that they are all whistle-clean from top to bottom (some even desiring to settle down and raise a family). The party image was wearing off.
A counter-stereotype being portrayed is the toothless, unbathed, NASCAR paraphenalia owning, white-trash crank-head. But, as I spoke about in a previous post, this image is not accurate. The rednecks of the world are not the only ones clamoring for an easy-to-make and cheap high. But for some reason, I can't reconcile this truth in my mind. It seems so dirty to huddle over a scorched wad of aluminum foil to inhale fertilizer, rat poison, and other grade A ingredients. At least cocaine has a false air of decedent sophistication to it. It is easier to think of meth users in terms of trailer parks, weekly rental hotels, and decomissioned school buses (places where you wouldn't expect to find a homosexual... by stereotype anyway).
All musing aside, another interesting fact is that the reason that this rise in gay meth use is being reported is because of the fear that high gay men will forget about the dangers of AIDS when they hook up. It seems as if only the gay brain is capable of being wiped clean via meth, and it seems as if once again, gay men are the cause and vector for AIDS.
I think this shows an ignorance on the media and in Americans in general. ANYONE under the influence of a recreational drug (from beer to heroin) is in danger of losing decision making abilities. Consequences are not the first thing on your mind when you are high. That being said, since when does being high have to do with making bad choices in the sack? I know any number of people that let sense go out the window when it comes to hooking up with someone of the opposite sex. Complacency to AIDS, and every other STD, is a real problem regardless of sexual orientation and inclination towards drug use. Trying to shame the gay public with this story may be just another tool used in the organized campaign against homosexuals. I don't mean this in the "vast right-wing conspiracy" way, but in the truthful and obvious wave in America that is fighting to inhibit homosexuality on the basis of morality and "family." Just something to think about.
#2 - Simpsons go gay
I knew that this coming weekend's Simpson's episode was on its way. It is the big "gay marriage" episode. And Conservatives are already gearing up to complain about it. It will be the focus of a story tonight on ABC's (or was it CBS...) nightly news show. The teaser commercial asked "is this funny, or is it a case of Hollywood just not getting it?" I'll answer. Its funny. Not only is it funny, IT HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE! The Simpsons has never been shy to be controversial. There have been numerous episodes that homosexuality was the core of the plot. Homer has even shared at least two on screen gay kisses. It is a comedy that attacks and embraces people from all groups, so of course they would eventually address gay marriage. Again.
And secondly, what is Hollywood "not getting?" Is "America" sick of Hollywood pushing its agenda on us? As we saw in the last election, apparently Hollywood doesn't have the influence that we like to think they have. Is it that we are sick of the perpetual presentation of homosexuality on TV, leading to increasing acceptance? I don''t know about you, but I see the opposite happening. I see it being very fashionable to stand against homosexuality. America is becoming very complex in its polarization. At once we have violence and sex being portrayed in increasing frequency and intensity, and yet we are backing up into the morals of our forefathers at the same time.
This could elicit a long, rambling commentary, so I will back off for now. But I just don't understand what the big deal is. I feel as if the teaser was saying "Why doesn't Hollywood quit trying to sell us homosexuality?" when homosexuality pre-dates the so-called permissive culture that we have today. Hollywood is more or less a whore for what the public wants. There are very few TRUE Hollywood producers and studios that want to offend people or buck the system. Don't confuse Hollywood with maverick auteurs and independent filmmakers. Hollywood's livelihood rests in reflecting the attitudes and values of their viewers, and catering to their every whim. If there was not a demand to see homosexuality portrayed in humorous or dramatic situations, then it would not be shown.
Just be careful not to fall for this sort of thing. Don't let the media (who used to be called the "liberal" news media) make something an issue just to fill time. If you weren't worked up before about gay marriage, or the Simpsons, then don't get worked up now. Nothing has changed.
And to sum things up, I'll quote Marge Simpson; "as long as two people love each other, who cares if they have the same hoo-hoo or haa-haa?" : )
Horns up.
#1 - Epidemic
I heard a report today that there is a new epidemic in the gay community. It isn't AIDS, that is already a problem. It isn't complacency to AIDS, that has also been a problem for too long. It isn't even the new strain of AIDS that is being discovered... that is disconcerting, but not yet epidemic. No, the new epidemic is crystal meth. I was shocked to learn this.It isn't that drug use by homosexuals is shocking. They are, despite the theories of some, average American human beings... and like it or not, America is a drugged up country. Drug use is high, no pun intended. If you are into tracking such things, you will notice that the rise of meth is at epic proportions in many areas of the nation. So why wouldn't this abuse be evenly distributed among homosexual populations?
As a humorous aside, the thing that shocked me was that the homosexual community would be in for such a dirty drug. We are led to believe in certain stereotypes about homosexuals; in the 70's they were the free-love, disco, and cocaine crowd. In the 80's I think they were portrayed as much of the same, but with pills and different music. In the 90's, we start to get the message that homosexuals are immaculate in dress and culture, politically active, and that they are all whistle-clean from top to bottom (some even desiring to settle down and raise a family). The party image was wearing off.
A counter-stereotype being portrayed is the toothless, unbathed, NASCAR paraphenalia owning, white-trash crank-head. But, as I spoke about in a previous post, this image is not accurate. The rednecks of the world are not the only ones clamoring for an easy-to-make and cheap high. But for some reason, I can't reconcile this truth in my mind. It seems so dirty to huddle over a scorched wad of aluminum foil to inhale fertilizer, rat poison, and other grade A ingredients. At least cocaine has a false air of decedent sophistication to it. It is easier to think of meth users in terms of trailer parks, weekly rental hotels, and decomissioned school buses (places where you wouldn't expect to find a homosexual... by stereotype anyway).
All musing aside, another interesting fact is that the reason that this rise in gay meth use is being reported is because of the fear that high gay men will forget about the dangers of AIDS when they hook up. It seems as if only the gay brain is capable of being wiped clean via meth, and it seems as if once again, gay men are the cause and vector for AIDS.
I think this shows an ignorance on the media and in Americans in general. ANYONE under the influence of a recreational drug (from beer to heroin) is in danger of losing decision making abilities. Consequences are not the first thing on your mind when you are high. That being said, since when does being high have to do with making bad choices in the sack? I know any number of people that let sense go out the window when it comes to hooking up with someone of the opposite sex. Complacency to AIDS, and every other STD, is a real problem regardless of sexual orientation and inclination towards drug use. Trying to shame the gay public with this story may be just another tool used in the organized campaign against homosexuals. I don't mean this in the "vast right-wing conspiracy" way, but in the truthful and obvious wave in America that is fighting to inhibit homosexuality on the basis of morality and "family." Just something to think about.
#2 - Simpsons go gay
I knew that this coming weekend's Simpson's episode was on its way. It is the big "gay marriage" episode. And Conservatives are already gearing up to complain about it. It will be the focus of a story tonight on ABC's (or was it CBS...) nightly news show. The teaser commercial asked "is this funny, or is it a case of Hollywood just not getting it?" I'll answer. Its funny. Not only is it funny, IT HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE! The Simpsons has never been shy to be controversial. There have been numerous episodes that homosexuality was the core of the plot. Homer has even shared at least two on screen gay kisses. It is a comedy that attacks and embraces people from all groups, so of course they would eventually address gay marriage. Again.
And secondly, what is Hollywood "not getting?" Is "America" sick of Hollywood pushing its agenda on us? As we saw in the last election, apparently Hollywood doesn't have the influence that we like to think they have. Is it that we are sick of the perpetual presentation of homosexuality on TV, leading to increasing acceptance? I don''t know about you, but I see the opposite happening. I see it being very fashionable to stand against homosexuality. America is becoming very complex in its polarization. At once we have violence and sex being portrayed in increasing frequency and intensity, and yet we are backing up into the morals of our forefathers at the same time.
This could elicit a long, rambling commentary, so I will back off for now. But I just don't understand what the big deal is. I feel as if the teaser was saying "Why doesn't Hollywood quit trying to sell us homosexuality?" when homosexuality pre-dates the so-called permissive culture that we have today. Hollywood is more or less a whore for what the public wants. There are very few TRUE Hollywood producers and studios that want to offend people or buck the system. Don't confuse Hollywood with maverick auteurs and independent filmmakers. Hollywood's livelihood rests in reflecting the attitudes and values of their viewers, and catering to their every whim. If there was not a demand to see homosexuality portrayed in humorous or dramatic situations, then it would not be shown.
Just be careful not to fall for this sort of thing. Don't let the media (who used to be called the "liberal" news media) make something an issue just to fill time. If you weren't worked up before about gay marriage, or the Simpsons, then don't get worked up now. Nothing has changed.
And to sum things up, I'll quote Marge Simpson; "as long as two people love each other, who cares if they have the same hoo-hoo or haa-haa?" : )
Horns up.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Random anecdote #2: Viddy well, oh my brothers, and learn of my droogs.
There are a lot of great stories out there about a man and his relationship with his friends. This is not one of them.
As hard as it is for me to admit, much of who I am is due to the influence of others. So who made Carl? There is the obvious scapegoat, society (aka, the times I grew up in), and the next likely source of influence would be my parents. But a person’s friends make a great deal of difference in personality and destiny. In my case, my friends probably played a larger role in making me "me" than any other influence.
I have always been very reliant on my friends, and as little as I tend to like masses of people, I love interacting with individuals. The lowest points of my life have all been when I had the least friends about me, and the thing that has kept me going is the times when I either reconnected with an old friend, or made a new one.
So rather than focus on one anecdote, I want to tell a few short stories about things that I have experienced with my friends… and maybe give you all a who’s who list of the people that helped build Carl. This isn’t everyone, just those that are easier to write about. I didn't write about Sandy, because that is way to complicated for ths post. And I didn’t write about my brother, because you can read his blog and the papers if you want to know about him. :) All you need to know is "proof of cricketing."
Steve G.: a neighbor, classmate, and a kid that valued imagination as much as I did. He also seemed to have the coolest kid stuff. He had a ton of Star Wars toys, an Atari, a TV with access to MTV, a pool, a VCR (Beta, but it was still a VCR), and a ton of Dungeons and Dragons supplies. Steve had a knack of being up for about anything. We were constantly playing war, waffle-ball, Nintendo, or some sort of role playing game. I spent every day playing with Steve from 2nd grade to early high school.
Mark T.: perhaps the richest kid in our gang. He was equally cool, and very smart to boot. He was talented at sports, and sort of introduced a lot of physical activity to us all. His mom was German, and sort of liberal, so I also had a lot of access to R movies and such. I saw my first movie-boobs at his house one Friday (it was on the movie “Private School”). It was cool to learn about Germany (to which he had visited a few times… lucky!), and to find at any early age that the USA is not the only country in the world. When Mark got his car, things really took off for us all. Mark also had a killer sense of humor, and a lot of my sense of comedy probably comes from the constant joking around our group was involved in.
Kevin T.: As we grew into teens, I started hanging out with Kevin (or Kev-bo). He was into hunting, fishing, hockey, baseball, and Nintendo. And he was the first in our group to have an exaggerated sense of testosterone driven ego… which was a lot of fun. Kevin made the rest of us make “scammin’ on chicks” a priority. Plus, he was way into Def Leppard, which rocked. When things turned “churchy” late in high school, Kevin was a willing participant in youth groups and summer camps, which made some miserable times pretty cool.
Matt B.: Matt and I were best friends in high school, and continued to be close in college. We had a two-man gang that ruled FCC, Foodland, NCC, and low areas of Kanesville. We ate and drank ourselves stupid, listening to Steve Miller, King’s X, and Swirling Eddies. We played softball and basketball anywhere we could, and fancied ourselves to be rock stars in the making. We were together for a lot of crazy times, and there was a long stretch of time when we didn’t go a day without doing something together. And, we both had a cynical view on life that made for some interesting fun. Tooling around CB in the souped up Falcon, or hauling our way down 275 in the Maverick were the best of times. Matt even introduced me to Sandy. Matt returned to CB, and is even the children’s minister at my church now… but we just have never found a way to reconnect. I miss those days a lot.
Nate P.: Meeting Nate and college probably saved my sanity. He was at once dedicated to Christianity, but also had a zeal for the fun things in life. He too liked Nintendo, movies, Monty Python, U2, and eventually, Ren and Stimpy. I tried to explain Nate to a pharmacist friend of mine, and she said “it must be cool to have a friend who gets so excited about things.” And that pretty well described Nate. Our tastes may not always be similar, but when they match, it is nice to have a friend who can appreciate every little detail to an obsessive level. Nate is one of my few friends that can appreciate a movie on several levels, and at the same time be able to set aside what is going on superficially. Nate is best described by one word, “fun.” If I had two, they would be “pickle bus.”
Carlin S.: Carlin, like Nate, helped me through NCC. I have a hard time putting into words what our friendship is like, but without her, a lot of my college experience would have been pretty drab. Carlin was the first person I met in Norfolk, a year before I started college. She was huge in helping me refine my tastes in music, movies, and subculture. She never laughed at me (to my face) for the open flannel shirt and torn jeans, and she was a willing cohort on any concert trip to Omaha. I can remember the day when I thought I would never see her again; we dropped her off at some strange guy’s house in Omaha so she could hitch a ride to TX for a concert! She was just out there like that. And it was fun to be around her. She was witty, creative, and well read (which is about a billion times more than I can say for anyone who has been home-schooled). I will say that Carlin is one of those terminally cool people who can’t help but be hip, but I wouldn’t say that she is one of these shallow people who is forever chasing after being up with the sub-culture Jones’. And, like most of my friends who are great (if not quirky) people, life still owes her a break or two. Carlin is definitely a part of the Carl mythos, and our friendship is just too hard to put into words.
Paul S.: Paul is my intellectual rock. Getting to know Paul changed my NCC experience in a meaningful way; he got me to use my natural critical thinking and focus on higher purposes. Not that he wasn’t about fun either (we talked about Star Wars like every day), but what I cherish most is his intellect. Of all of my NCC friends, it was hardest to adjust to life “outside” without him around. Along with Paul, I started the Bubblegoose years ago as an email newsletter. Since, he has grown into an amazing writer and excellent preacher. His blog (Paul’s Ponderings) is a fantastic resource for those looking for a little pick me up when it comes to faith. And above all, Paul is an honest Christian. I do not think that there are many of those out there. He is honest with himself and others about questions, strengths, and weaknesses of the faith. While he comes from a strong Christian family, to me he is perhaps the one person I most fell has developed a personal relationship with God on his own. Not that others I know haven’t, but Paul has sound theology, a science-like approach to faith, and an inspired insight to the Gospels. He will be a great teacher and writer on faith matters. And it stinks that we aren’t closer. Oh, and no one can defeat us at Axis and Allies when we are on the same side. Paul is in seminary now, and I can’t wait to see what life has in store for him next!
Mike W.: Mike was my first friend in Colorado (well, other than Daniella, but that is a long, painful story). That is sort of hard to admit, because he was not only one of my students, he was about 10 years younger than me. But Mike was like a brother and a friend at once. I’d take his company over that of an adult any day. We would spend countless days goofing around outside and in. We would invent outlandish rules for indoor waffle ball, play basketball, talk about movies and music, drive all over Denver, eat anything that got in front of us, and play every dirt-ball putt-putt course we could find. To this day when I get a good anime DVD, see a cool Japanese product, a decrepit putt-putt course, or hear a good album, I say “I wish Mike was around.” The scary thing is, he and my brother got along too. Mike is the missing Smith brother. And, Mike was about the same level of sense of humor as me. We laughed at the same stuff. It pleased me to no end to hear that he too has found the joys of Kung Pow and Shaolin Soccer, without my influence. If we ever get back together, there will be no Mr. Goodcents left unvisited.
Rich W.: Mike’s brother Rich was similarly Carl-like. Mike introduced us, and we became best of friends. Rich is the one person I will probably make a future relocation decision based on his whereabouts. What’s so great about Rich? What isn’t? He was into a lot of the same stuff as me, had an edgy sense of humor, dedicated to the church, loved video games, and enjoyed movies as much (if not more) than I did. Rich, along with his roommate at the time (John), helped me to grow up, and hone my wit and humor. They gave me an audience. : ) But that trivializes the friendship we have. Rich and I connect on a certain level that is just something that doesn’t happen too often in life. We are different in a lot of ways, yet we both know where the other one is coming from. When I was the subject of what I saw as a character assassination, Rich was family to me when I needed more that a friend. When I was just looking for a place to be myself, Rich was there. And when I needed someone to eat awesome Mexican food with, Rich was there. I think Rich is the best of my “droogs.”
Horns up!
As hard as it is for me to admit, much of who I am is due to the influence of others. So who made Carl? There is the obvious scapegoat, society (aka, the times I grew up in), and the next likely source of influence would be my parents. But a person’s friends make a great deal of difference in personality and destiny. In my case, my friends probably played a larger role in making me "me" than any other influence.
I have always been very reliant on my friends, and as little as I tend to like masses of people, I love interacting with individuals. The lowest points of my life have all been when I had the least friends about me, and the thing that has kept me going is the times when I either reconnected with an old friend, or made a new one.
So rather than focus on one anecdote, I want to tell a few short stories about things that I have experienced with my friends… and maybe give you all a who’s who list of the people that helped build Carl. This isn’t everyone, just those that are easier to write about. I didn't write about Sandy, because that is way to complicated for ths post. And I didn’t write about my brother, because you can read his blog and the papers if you want to know about him. :) All you need to know is "proof of cricketing."
Steve G.: a neighbor, classmate, and a kid that valued imagination as much as I did. He also seemed to have the coolest kid stuff. He had a ton of Star Wars toys, an Atari, a TV with access to MTV, a pool, a VCR (Beta, but it was still a VCR), and a ton of Dungeons and Dragons supplies. Steve had a knack of being up for about anything. We were constantly playing war, waffle-ball, Nintendo, or some sort of role playing game. I spent every day playing with Steve from 2nd grade to early high school.
Mark T.: perhaps the richest kid in our gang. He was equally cool, and very smart to boot. He was talented at sports, and sort of introduced a lot of physical activity to us all. His mom was German, and sort of liberal, so I also had a lot of access to R movies and such. I saw my first movie-boobs at his house one Friday (it was on the movie “Private School”). It was cool to learn about Germany (to which he had visited a few times… lucky!), and to find at any early age that the USA is not the only country in the world. When Mark got his car, things really took off for us all. Mark also had a killer sense of humor, and a lot of my sense of comedy probably comes from the constant joking around our group was involved in.
Kevin T.: As we grew into teens, I started hanging out with Kevin (or Kev-bo). He was into hunting, fishing, hockey, baseball, and Nintendo. And he was the first in our group to have an exaggerated sense of testosterone driven ego… which was a lot of fun. Kevin made the rest of us make “scammin’ on chicks” a priority. Plus, he was way into Def Leppard, which rocked. When things turned “churchy” late in high school, Kevin was a willing participant in youth groups and summer camps, which made some miserable times pretty cool.
Matt B.: Matt and I were best friends in high school, and continued to be close in college. We had a two-man gang that ruled FCC, Foodland, NCC, and low areas of Kanesville. We ate and drank ourselves stupid, listening to Steve Miller, King’s X, and Swirling Eddies. We played softball and basketball anywhere we could, and fancied ourselves to be rock stars in the making. We were together for a lot of crazy times, and there was a long stretch of time when we didn’t go a day without doing something together. And, we both had a cynical view on life that made for some interesting fun. Tooling around CB in the souped up Falcon, or hauling our way down 275 in the Maverick were the best of times. Matt even introduced me to Sandy. Matt returned to CB, and is even the children’s minister at my church now… but we just have never found a way to reconnect. I miss those days a lot.
Nate P.: Meeting Nate and college probably saved my sanity. He was at once dedicated to Christianity, but also had a zeal for the fun things in life. He too liked Nintendo, movies, Monty Python, U2, and eventually, Ren and Stimpy. I tried to explain Nate to a pharmacist friend of mine, and she said “it must be cool to have a friend who gets so excited about things.” And that pretty well described Nate. Our tastes may not always be similar, but when they match, it is nice to have a friend who can appreciate every little detail to an obsessive level. Nate is one of my few friends that can appreciate a movie on several levels, and at the same time be able to set aside what is going on superficially. Nate is best described by one word, “fun.” If I had two, they would be “pickle bus.”
Carlin S.: Carlin, like Nate, helped me through NCC. I have a hard time putting into words what our friendship is like, but without her, a lot of my college experience would have been pretty drab. Carlin was the first person I met in Norfolk, a year before I started college. She was huge in helping me refine my tastes in music, movies, and subculture. She never laughed at me (to my face) for the open flannel shirt and torn jeans, and she was a willing cohort on any concert trip to Omaha. I can remember the day when I thought I would never see her again; we dropped her off at some strange guy’s house in Omaha so she could hitch a ride to TX for a concert! She was just out there like that. And it was fun to be around her. She was witty, creative, and well read (which is about a billion times more than I can say for anyone who has been home-schooled). I will say that Carlin is one of those terminally cool people who can’t help but be hip, but I wouldn’t say that she is one of these shallow people who is forever chasing after being up with the sub-culture Jones’. And, like most of my friends who are great (if not quirky) people, life still owes her a break or two. Carlin is definitely a part of the Carl mythos, and our friendship is just too hard to put into words.
Paul S.: Paul is my intellectual rock. Getting to know Paul changed my NCC experience in a meaningful way; he got me to use my natural critical thinking and focus on higher purposes. Not that he wasn’t about fun either (we talked about Star Wars like every day), but what I cherish most is his intellect. Of all of my NCC friends, it was hardest to adjust to life “outside” without him around. Along with Paul, I started the Bubblegoose years ago as an email newsletter. Since, he has grown into an amazing writer and excellent preacher. His blog (Paul’s Ponderings) is a fantastic resource for those looking for a little pick me up when it comes to faith. And above all, Paul is an honest Christian. I do not think that there are many of those out there. He is honest with himself and others about questions, strengths, and weaknesses of the faith. While he comes from a strong Christian family, to me he is perhaps the one person I most fell has developed a personal relationship with God on his own. Not that others I know haven’t, but Paul has sound theology, a science-like approach to faith, and an inspired insight to the Gospels. He will be a great teacher and writer on faith matters. And it stinks that we aren’t closer. Oh, and no one can defeat us at Axis and Allies when we are on the same side. Paul is in seminary now, and I can’t wait to see what life has in store for him next!
Mike W.: Mike was my first friend in Colorado (well, other than Daniella, but that is a long, painful story). That is sort of hard to admit, because he was not only one of my students, he was about 10 years younger than me. But Mike was like a brother and a friend at once. I’d take his company over that of an adult any day. We would spend countless days goofing around outside and in. We would invent outlandish rules for indoor waffle ball, play basketball, talk about movies and music, drive all over Denver, eat anything that got in front of us, and play every dirt-ball putt-putt course we could find. To this day when I get a good anime DVD, see a cool Japanese product, a decrepit putt-putt course, or hear a good album, I say “I wish Mike was around.” The scary thing is, he and my brother got along too. Mike is the missing Smith brother. And, Mike was about the same level of sense of humor as me. We laughed at the same stuff. It pleased me to no end to hear that he too has found the joys of Kung Pow and Shaolin Soccer, without my influence. If we ever get back together, there will be no Mr. Goodcents left unvisited.
Rich W.: Mike’s brother Rich was similarly Carl-like. Mike introduced us, and we became best of friends. Rich is the one person I will probably make a future relocation decision based on his whereabouts. What’s so great about Rich? What isn’t? He was into a lot of the same stuff as me, had an edgy sense of humor, dedicated to the church, loved video games, and enjoyed movies as much (if not more) than I did. Rich, along with his roommate at the time (John), helped me to grow up, and hone my wit and humor. They gave me an audience. : ) But that trivializes the friendship we have. Rich and I connect on a certain level that is just something that doesn’t happen too often in life. We are different in a lot of ways, yet we both know where the other one is coming from. When I was the subject of what I saw as a character assassination, Rich was family to me when I needed more that a friend. When I was just looking for a place to be myself, Rich was there. And when I needed someone to eat awesome Mexican food with, Rich was there. I think Rich is the best of my “droogs.”
Horns up!
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
The Scopes-Liger Trial (The People vs. N.Dynamite)
Hola! I saw a great episode of the TV show King of Queens the other day. The sub-plot was about how the live-in father-in-law (Arthur) had just read his first Peanuts comic strip, and he was outraged... because he thought that Charles Shultz stole his life and used it as the basis of Charlie Brown. The weird conspiracy theory that he develops was just too funny...
... funny except for the fact that it made me realize that Napoleon Dynamite was stolen from my life. Yeah right, me and every other odd-ball teen. Below is the summary of evidence for and against a killer conspiracy. Idiots...
Pro - I used to waste entire days sketching fantasy animals and such
Con - Napoleon managed to get a date to the school dance
Pro - I was fascinated with things like bo staffs and sai
Con - Napoleon learned how to dance
Pro - I owned a crappy 10-speed bicycle that I used to get around town
Con - Napoleon rode the bus
Pro - I once gave an embarassing dungeon & dragons based speech to my class
Con - Napoleon knew sign language
Pro - I lived in a dirt-ball town
Con - Napoleon was a FFA member
Pro - I was also addicted to nachos as a teen
Con - Napoleon had an older brother
Pro - I wore hopelessly tacky and ugly clothes
Con - Napoleon had a creepy uncle that lived with him
Pro - I was (and still am) a hopeless clutz
Con - Napoleon likes to fish
Pro - I have a creepy uncle that makes a living off of crazy sales scams
Con - Napoleon had a pet llama
Pro - I got bullied a lot in Jr. High and early High School
Con - Napoleon had "fish mouth"
Pro - I used to scam extra food off people in the cafeteria
Con - Napoleon smuggled food into class
Pro - I spent a lot of time obsessing over "skills" (I was a big role playing game nerd)
Con - Napoloen was a little too into unicorns
Pro - I had chronic bad hair (from" greasy part" look to the classic "CB mullet")
Con - Napoleon had a perm
Pro - I had a quirky, "outsider" friend... actually a bunch of them
Con - Napoleon's friend was Hispanic
Pro - I spent a lot of time in my room
Con - Napoleon had an actual room. My room was a clearing in the basement
Pro - I was angry at the world too
Con - Napoleon was not obsessed with heavy metal
Well, as you can see, the jury is out. Is Carl the basis for Napoleon Dynamite? Or, is he just a giant nerd whose every trait holds true to the nerd archetype? Don't answer that.
Horn's up.
... funny except for the fact that it made me realize that Napoleon Dynamite was stolen from my life. Yeah right, me and every other odd-ball teen. Below is the summary of evidence for and against a killer conspiracy. Idiots...
Pro - I used to waste entire days sketching fantasy animals and such
Con - Napoleon managed to get a date to the school dance
Pro - I was fascinated with things like bo staffs and sai
Con - Napoleon learned how to dance
Pro - I owned a crappy 10-speed bicycle that I used to get around town
Con - Napoleon rode the bus
Pro - I once gave an embarassing dungeon & dragons based speech to my class
Con - Napoleon knew sign language
Pro - I lived in a dirt-ball town
Con - Napoleon was a FFA member
Pro - I was also addicted to nachos as a teen
Con - Napoleon had an older brother
Pro - I wore hopelessly tacky and ugly clothes
Con - Napoleon had a creepy uncle that lived with him
Pro - I was (and still am) a hopeless clutz
Con - Napoleon likes to fish
Pro - I have a creepy uncle that makes a living off of crazy sales scams
Con - Napoleon had a pet llama
Pro - I got bullied a lot in Jr. High and early High School
Con - Napoleon had "fish mouth"
Pro - I used to scam extra food off people in the cafeteria
Con - Napoleon smuggled food into class
Pro - I spent a lot of time obsessing over "skills" (I was a big role playing game nerd)
Con - Napoloen was a little too into unicorns
Pro - I had chronic bad hair (from" greasy part" look to the classic "CB mullet")
Con - Napoleon had a perm
Pro - I had a quirky, "outsider" friend... actually a bunch of them
Con - Napoleon's friend was Hispanic
Pro - I spent a lot of time in my room
Con - Napoleon had an actual room. My room was a clearing in the basement
Pro - I was angry at the world too
Con - Napoleon was not obsessed with heavy metal
Well, as you can see, the jury is out. Is Carl the basis for Napoleon Dynamite? Or, is he just a giant nerd whose every trait holds true to the nerd archetype? Don't answer that.
Horn's up.
Monday, February 14, 2005
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
“If they won’t face German bullets, they’ll face French ones!” (Paths of Glory)
I recently had the chance to re-watch a classic Kubrick movie, “Paths of Glory.” The movie centers around WWI, a horrible and tremendously violent period of modern history. The plot concerns a General who is up for an accommodation and promotion, who orders a unit to advance on an impossible goal, in hopes of garnering further favor from his superiors. When the maneuver unavoidably fails (leaving half of the unit dead, and the rest to retreat back into their trenches), he gets caught up in the tidal pools of his own ambition. He orders his own artillery to fire upon the trenches to force his men forward into enemy territory (and likely, death). The mission fails, the men stay put, and the artillery commander refuses the order. To cover up what happened, and to clear his reputation with his superiors, the General orders that men from the unit stand trial for cowardice, and face a firing squad.
One of the more annoying clichés to spew out of Hollywood is that all war movies are essentially anti-war movies. That simply is not so. And the underlying reason this Hollywood myth is incorrect speaks volumes about the American misunderstanding of (and latent lust for) violence.
Take a classic like Kubrick’s “Paths of Glory.” There is a scene where French troops are advancing against all hope across dead-man’s land (the area of land between the trenched of two warring parties). As the explosions occur and the sound of bullets whiz about, you wish with your entire heart that the men make it to safety. Alas, they do not. Many die(needlessly); each death a waste.
Now compare that to the slick action scenes of a modern film like “Windtalkers” or “Pearl Harbor,” pseudo-war films such as “Rambo” or “Navy SEALs,” or the sappy “war is hell” old-school war films such “Battlefield!” or “The Flying Leathernecks.” In those films, there is a certain delight taken in the scenes of battle. War, in these movies, is thrilling. It serves as an easy and titillating way to demonstrate conflict (and conflict is what all stories, war or not, are about). Even the well-done war-time adventure epics, such as “Ice Station Zebra,” “Guns of Navarone,” and “Tora, Tora, Tora” are guilty of glorifying the struggles, lives, and deaths of soldiers at war.
The truth is this; the madness of war is often glorified or trivialized by the Hollywood movie factory. Often, even a true anti-war movie is looked upon as a classic due to the interest in the choreographed action. The appeal of such movies is similar to the appeal of the awful gore-films that draw horror fans, even when they are devoid of plot or any value as cinematic art.
Another Kubrick film, “Full Metal Jacket,” and the hard-to-peg “Apocalypse Now” both serve as examples of this. Both movies have very harsh volleys to level at the culture of violence and warfare. They both expose the horror, uselessness, and insanity of man’s war on fellow man. Yet both are greedily ingested by those who love a good war film. How either film could be seen as “cool” is beyond me. Both are great movies, but not “cool.”
Holywood’s shameless use of war to thrill and provide easy setting for storytelling goes as far back as filmmaking itself. People want to see struggle, they do not want to think, and they way to see clearly marked sides (good vs. evil). From the slaughter of countless American Indians in Westerns, to the dispatching of countless Germans in WWII flicks, we see soldiers in film as props. Occasionally we lament their lost (“why did it have to be Johnny?”), but often even the loss of a developed character is used as another cheap plot element. In lieu of having anything new to say about war, we tell the same stories over and over again. So why do people keep watching war pictures? Because the thrill is in the battle. The thrill is in the ever increasing special effects. The thrill is in the curiosity of death, the horror of seeing the mortality of other men, and the victory that comes with survival.
In real life, soldiers are probably a lot less willing to see themselves used as props to amuse theater-goers. Every life lost in real war is a tragedy, whether it be German, Cherokee, Japanese, French, Soviet, or American. John Steinbeck set out to demonstrate the humanity of all of war’s pawns in his book “The Moon is Down.” The young Nazi soldiers were no different than any others… pawns in a power struggle controlled by puppet-masters locked safely away, far from battle. The book so blurred the lines of good struggling against evil (after all, all Nazi soldiers were soulless, demons… right?), that the book and its movie were unofficially banned. At the least, they were culturally blackballed (as the Dixie Chicks were shortly after 9/11 for sharing views that years later were heard resonating from many mouths in the media).
This is why it is so hard to watch the opening of “Saving Private Ryan,” and similarly hard to watch a piece of crap like “Platoon.” Because the first lays bare the incredible, unavoidable, and senseless loss of battle, while placing real faces, names, and lives to the heaps of flesh and olive drab cloth that litter the beaches and fields. And because the other trivializes the sacrifice and valor shown by those who did fight, and who did fall for causes just and unjust.
Just something to think about before you pick up your next action DVD or first-person shooter video game. War is real men, with real loves, real dreams, real families, and real talents being sent out to kill one another or die. Nothing to be taken lightly, and surely nothing we should take delight in; on-screen or otherwise.
“Colonel Dax, your men died very well.” (Paths of Glory)
Horn's up.
I recently had the chance to re-watch a classic Kubrick movie, “Paths of Glory.” The movie centers around WWI, a horrible and tremendously violent period of modern history. The plot concerns a General who is up for an accommodation and promotion, who orders a unit to advance on an impossible goal, in hopes of garnering further favor from his superiors. When the maneuver unavoidably fails (leaving half of the unit dead, and the rest to retreat back into their trenches), he gets caught up in the tidal pools of his own ambition. He orders his own artillery to fire upon the trenches to force his men forward into enemy territory (and likely, death). The mission fails, the men stay put, and the artillery commander refuses the order. To cover up what happened, and to clear his reputation with his superiors, the General orders that men from the unit stand trial for cowardice, and face a firing squad.
One of the more annoying clichés to spew out of Hollywood is that all war movies are essentially anti-war movies. That simply is not so. And the underlying reason this Hollywood myth is incorrect speaks volumes about the American misunderstanding of (and latent lust for) violence.
Take a classic like Kubrick’s “Paths of Glory.” There is a scene where French troops are advancing against all hope across dead-man’s land (the area of land between the trenched of two warring parties). As the explosions occur and the sound of bullets whiz about, you wish with your entire heart that the men make it to safety. Alas, they do not. Many die(needlessly); each death a waste.
Now compare that to the slick action scenes of a modern film like “Windtalkers” or “Pearl Harbor,” pseudo-war films such as “Rambo” or “Navy SEALs,” or the sappy “war is hell” old-school war films such “Battlefield!” or “The Flying Leathernecks.” In those films, there is a certain delight taken in the scenes of battle. War, in these movies, is thrilling. It serves as an easy and titillating way to demonstrate conflict (and conflict is what all stories, war or not, are about). Even the well-done war-time adventure epics, such as “Ice Station Zebra,” “Guns of Navarone,” and “Tora, Tora, Tora” are guilty of glorifying the struggles, lives, and deaths of soldiers at war.
The truth is this; the madness of war is often glorified or trivialized by the Hollywood movie factory. Often, even a true anti-war movie is looked upon as a classic due to the interest in the choreographed action. The appeal of such movies is similar to the appeal of the awful gore-films that draw horror fans, even when they are devoid of plot or any value as cinematic art.
Another Kubrick film, “Full Metal Jacket,” and the hard-to-peg “Apocalypse Now” both serve as examples of this. Both movies have very harsh volleys to level at the culture of violence and warfare. They both expose the horror, uselessness, and insanity of man’s war on fellow man. Yet both are greedily ingested by those who love a good war film. How either film could be seen as “cool” is beyond me. Both are great movies, but not “cool.”
Holywood’s shameless use of war to thrill and provide easy setting for storytelling goes as far back as filmmaking itself. People want to see struggle, they do not want to think, and they way to see clearly marked sides (good vs. evil). From the slaughter of countless American Indians in Westerns, to the dispatching of countless Germans in WWII flicks, we see soldiers in film as props. Occasionally we lament their lost (“why did it have to be Johnny?”), but often even the loss of a developed character is used as another cheap plot element. In lieu of having anything new to say about war, we tell the same stories over and over again. So why do people keep watching war pictures? Because the thrill is in the battle. The thrill is in the ever increasing special effects. The thrill is in the curiosity of death, the horror of seeing the mortality of other men, and the victory that comes with survival.
In real life, soldiers are probably a lot less willing to see themselves used as props to amuse theater-goers. Every life lost in real war is a tragedy, whether it be German, Cherokee, Japanese, French, Soviet, or American. John Steinbeck set out to demonstrate the humanity of all of war’s pawns in his book “The Moon is Down.” The young Nazi soldiers were no different than any others… pawns in a power struggle controlled by puppet-masters locked safely away, far from battle. The book so blurred the lines of good struggling against evil (after all, all Nazi soldiers were soulless, demons… right?), that the book and its movie were unofficially banned. At the least, they were culturally blackballed (as the Dixie Chicks were shortly after 9/11 for sharing views that years later were heard resonating from many mouths in the media).
This is why it is so hard to watch the opening of “Saving Private Ryan,” and similarly hard to watch a piece of crap like “Platoon.” Because the first lays bare the incredible, unavoidable, and senseless loss of battle, while placing real faces, names, and lives to the heaps of flesh and olive drab cloth that litter the beaches and fields. And because the other trivializes the sacrifice and valor shown by those who did fight, and who did fall for causes just and unjust.
Just something to think about before you pick up your next action DVD or first-person shooter video game. War is real men, with real loves, real dreams, real families, and real talents being sent out to kill one another or die. Nothing to be taken lightly, and surely nothing we should take delight in; on-screen or otherwise.
“Colonel Dax, your men died very well.” (Paths of Glory)
Horn's up.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Random Anecdote Number One: She Gets High
For the next few entries, I am going to resort to a timeless tactic for the unimaginative... well, for those more imaginative than the "meme" crowd anyway. I am going to type up a few anecdotes from my life, and maybe that will make someone smile, or at least let you get to know me a little better.
And as always, as stated in the play/movie Search and Destroy, "Just because it happens to you, it doesn't mean that it is interesting."
START ANECDOTE
I have been a Doors fan pretty much from birth. You had to be growing up with my father. He wasn't a rocker or a music scene insider, but he represents a certain vibe from the Midwest... Hank Williams (Sr. and Jr.), Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, CCR, the Doors, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Santana, and Steppenwolf play a huge role in this vibe.
Anyway, from as far back as I can remember, my father was pumping "Riders on the Storm" out of his Vietnam-bought stereo and reel-to-reel system in our basement. It was like life would stop when that song was on. He was always saying "just listen." He really taught me that some songs have souls of their own, and deserve your full attention (and need played loud). And, he also did this because even as a child I talked way too much, and he needed a break from my incessant rambling.
So, I became a Doors fan (and still am). My brother, who is five years younger than me, was subjected to the exact same conditioning exercise. I think that we had LA Woman memorized before we knew anything about multiplication tables, the Civil War, or food pyramids.
Fast forward to just a few years ago. I had recently became the owner of a Nebraska furniture Mart credit card, and I wanted to get serious about building the ultimate CD collection. There are so many albums that Mark and I have owned, sold, traded, and lost that it was time for us to get serious and build a permanent, unified collection. Most of my "classics" were on record, and having recently went through a very turbulent time with moving, getting married, and being jobless, I had gotten rid of all of my records.
So I bought brand new CD copies of a lot of my records. The Doors catalog was one of the highest priorities. Upon listening to the first LP (called only The Doors), I was shocked when I listened to Break On Through...
A famous story in the rock and roll world is that Jim Morrison refused to take the word "higher" out of Light My Fire when he was on the Ed Sullivan Show (because society was having knee jerk reactions to anything that smelled like pro-drug counter culture). This stubbornness by Jim was fueled by a) his rampant drug abuse, b) his sense of artistic integrity, and c) the fact he was angry at the censorship of his music. The song The End had to have a portion of it changed to deemphasize an Oedipal moment about Jim's mother, including the F*** word.
So, while I was aware of the constant war between censors and Jim, I had no idea that at the end of Break On Through there was censorship. The part of the song where Jim yells "She gets! She Gets!" is actually edited from the actual tape of him yelling "She gets high! She gets hiiiiigh!"And on my new CD, they had restored the original master. I freaked out. I must have heard that song a million times before that day, and my ears were acute to any difference. To have this restoration of something I didn't know was missing to begin with was almost magical. It was like finding a lost song altogether, and it changed my waning impression of that single (it's one of my favorite tracks now).
I couldn't wait for my brother to hear it. I didn't want to tell him about it, I wanted him to hear it. I forget a lot of the specifics of the scenario, but I do remember putting the CD on when we were together. As it played through, I watched his face, waiting for the moment to come. His reaction was about the same as mine. We are, after all, probably the only two people that something like that means so much to anyway. We haven't really talked a lot about it since, but I think it is safe to say that when it comes to our shared music memory, the restoration of that tape will stand as one of our most cherished moments.
Unfortunately, Jim recorded in days when there wasn't a fantastic independent industry. These days there is almost too much independent music, but back then your livelihood as a recording artist (or even live act) rested on the record industry giants, the promotion of singles on rock radio (which doesn't exist anymore), and by playing the glad-hand game (see also Have a Cigar by Pink Floyd). Only the hardest core artists were involved in anything but the music industry's starmaking system.
The Velvet Underground is probably one of the few examples of a success story that bucked the system (so to speak). And even then, Jim spat in the face of their separatism and snobbery; he hated Andy Warhol and wasn't impressed in the least by Reed and his crew. New York was the enemy. Jim wanted the desert (figuratively and metaphorically). Jim also had a slight disgust at the top 40 set of the day (to Jim the Beatles and Rolling Stones weren't even on the musical radar). And where Jim dissed Warhol to his face, he readily wrapped an arm around John Fogerty and threw words of praise towards CCR. A great deal of my attitude comes from a similar distrust of things either too hip or too manufactured.
Screw Woodstock and its free love and mud pits ("your ballroom days are over, babe"); gimmie the floor of some dirty road-side biker bar and a bottle of Jack. Well, not me literally, but that is the thought process I go through. Jim was above all things REAL; something that dad,Mark, and I always put above all else. We have Jim Morrison in our blood. He's the patron saint of the Smith males in my fathers branch of the family.
Back to the record industry. Elektra, as it was, was actually the most receptive and liberal outlet for a band like the Doors. Elektra has a long standing history of being very good at identifying alternative acts and nurturing their creativity and eccentricity (Stooges, MC5, Love, Kyuss... need I say more?). Not bad for a company that was building its life on folk music. They tried their best to nurture Jim's whims (like the weird jazz-themed Soft Parade LP), and respect the right of expression regardless of controversy, supported the band even after legal problems, let the band record new material even after widespread tales of Jim's drug and alcohol problems (which will never be topped by another human being ever), and even allowed the Doors to try to carve out a career after Jim passed away (Two great albums that you probably don't know exist; one is called Full Circle, and the other is Other Voices). Elektra gave a voice to the underdog, gritty, counter-culture icons, and found a way to make money off of great singles, and timeless LPs.
For some reason, the radio stations will only play the old version of Break On Through. The old version is still great, but it seems fradulant and wrong in the face of the artist's original intention. Where Light My Fire was a love song that used "higher" in the context of love (e.g. cloud 9), Break on Through was a diatribe on the joys of chemical abuse. So to hear Jim yell "she gets high!" only solidifies the message of the song; giving it back its soul. Its the way Jim would have wanted it, had he been more savvy with dealing with the industry. And it is the only way it should be; it is, after all, rock and roll.
And it is this "rock and roll" that my dad, my brother, and myself have based our lives on. None of us rockers (well, maybe Mark is), but we all definitely have the notion of "real rock and roll " playing a large role in our worldviews. To this day, my activities slow to a stop when I hear either LA Woman or Riders on the Storm. Likewise, I slow to think about my family's unique view on life, and unique sense of enjoyment we get from a good tune. Its what makes us Smith males Smiths. We dig rock and roll. And it doesn't get any more rock and roll than the free speech, artistic expression, and plain old dirtiness of Jim Morrison singing "She gets high." Rock on!
Horns up.
And as always, as stated in the play/movie Search and Destroy, "Just because it happens to you, it doesn't mean that it is interesting."
START ANECDOTE
I have been a Doors fan pretty much from birth. You had to be growing up with my father. He wasn't a rocker or a music scene insider, but he represents a certain vibe from the Midwest... Hank Williams (Sr. and Jr.), Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, CCR, the Doors, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Santana, and Steppenwolf play a huge role in this vibe.
Anyway, from as far back as I can remember, my father was pumping "Riders on the Storm" out of his Vietnam-bought stereo and reel-to-reel system in our basement. It was like life would stop when that song was on. He was always saying "just listen." He really taught me that some songs have souls of their own, and deserve your full attention (and need played loud). And, he also did this because even as a child I talked way too much, and he needed a break from my incessant rambling.
So, I became a Doors fan (and still am). My brother, who is five years younger than me, was subjected to the exact same conditioning exercise. I think that we had LA Woman memorized before we knew anything about multiplication tables, the Civil War, or food pyramids.
Fast forward to just a few years ago. I had recently became the owner of a Nebraska furniture Mart credit card, and I wanted to get serious about building the ultimate CD collection. There are so many albums that Mark and I have owned, sold, traded, and lost that it was time for us to get serious and build a permanent, unified collection. Most of my "classics" were on record, and having recently went through a very turbulent time with moving, getting married, and being jobless, I had gotten rid of all of my records.
So I bought brand new CD copies of a lot of my records. The Doors catalog was one of the highest priorities. Upon listening to the first LP (called only The Doors), I was shocked when I listened to Break On Through...
A famous story in the rock and roll world is that Jim Morrison refused to take the word "higher" out of Light My Fire when he was on the Ed Sullivan Show (because society was having knee jerk reactions to anything that smelled like pro-drug counter culture). This stubbornness by Jim was fueled by a) his rampant drug abuse, b) his sense of artistic integrity, and c) the fact he was angry at the censorship of his music. The song The End had to have a portion of it changed to deemphasize an Oedipal moment about Jim's mother, including the F*** word.
So, while I was aware of the constant war between censors and Jim, I had no idea that at the end of Break On Through there was censorship. The part of the song where Jim yells "She gets! She Gets!" is actually edited from the actual tape of him yelling "She gets high! She gets hiiiiigh!"And on my new CD, they had restored the original master. I freaked out. I must have heard that song a million times before that day, and my ears were acute to any difference. To have this restoration of something I didn't know was missing to begin with was almost magical. It was like finding a lost song altogether, and it changed my waning impression of that single (it's one of my favorite tracks now).
I couldn't wait for my brother to hear it. I didn't want to tell him about it, I wanted him to hear it. I forget a lot of the specifics of the scenario, but I do remember putting the CD on when we were together. As it played through, I watched his face, waiting for the moment to come. His reaction was about the same as mine. We are, after all, probably the only two people that something like that means so much to anyway. We haven't really talked a lot about it since, but I think it is safe to say that when it comes to our shared music memory, the restoration of that tape will stand as one of our most cherished moments.
Unfortunately, Jim recorded in days when there wasn't a fantastic independent industry. These days there is almost too much independent music, but back then your livelihood as a recording artist (or even live act) rested on the record industry giants, the promotion of singles on rock radio (which doesn't exist anymore), and by playing the glad-hand game (see also Have a Cigar by Pink Floyd). Only the hardest core artists were involved in anything but the music industry's starmaking system.
The Velvet Underground is probably one of the few examples of a success story that bucked the system (so to speak). And even then, Jim spat in the face of their separatism and snobbery; he hated Andy Warhol and wasn't impressed in the least by Reed and his crew. New York was the enemy. Jim wanted the desert (figuratively and metaphorically). Jim also had a slight disgust at the top 40 set of the day (to Jim the Beatles and Rolling Stones weren't even on the musical radar). And where Jim dissed Warhol to his face, he readily wrapped an arm around John Fogerty and threw words of praise towards CCR. A great deal of my attitude comes from a similar distrust of things either too hip or too manufactured.
Screw Woodstock and its free love and mud pits ("your ballroom days are over, babe"); gimmie the floor of some dirty road-side biker bar and a bottle of Jack. Well, not me literally, but that is the thought process I go through. Jim was above all things REAL; something that dad,Mark, and I always put above all else. We have Jim Morrison in our blood. He's the patron saint of the Smith males in my fathers branch of the family.
Back to the record industry. Elektra, as it was, was actually the most receptive and liberal outlet for a band like the Doors. Elektra has a long standing history of being very good at identifying alternative acts and nurturing their creativity and eccentricity (Stooges, MC5, Love, Kyuss... need I say more?). Not bad for a company that was building its life on folk music. They tried their best to nurture Jim's whims (like the weird jazz-themed Soft Parade LP), and respect the right of expression regardless of controversy, supported the band even after legal problems, let the band record new material even after widespread tales of Jim's drug and alcohol problems (which will never be topped by another human being ever), and even allowed the Doors to try to carve out a career after Jim passed away (Two great albums that you probably don't know exist; one is called Full Circle, and the other is Other Voices). Elektra gave a voice to the underdog, gritty, counter-culture icons, and found a way to make money off of great singles, and timeless LPs.
For some reason, the radio stations will only play the old version of Break On Through. The old version is still great, but it seems fradulant and wrong in the face of the artist's original intention. Where Light My Fire was a love song that used "higher" in the context of love (e.g. cloud 9), Break on Through was a diatribe on the joys of chemical abuse. So to hear Jim yell "she gets high!" only solidifies the message of the song; giving it back its soul. Its the way Jim would have wanted it, had he been more savvy with dealing with the industry. And it is the only way it should be; it is, after all, rock and roll.
And it is this "rock and roll" that my dad, my brother, and myself have based our lives on. None of us rockers (well, maybe Mark is), but we all definitely have the notion of "real rock and roll " playing a large role in our worldviews. To this day, my activities slow to a stop when I hear either LA Woman or Riders on the Storm. Likewise, I slow to think about my family's unique view on life, and unique sense of enjoyment we get from a good tune. Its what makes us Smith males Smiths. We dig rock and roll. And it doesn't get any more rock and roll than the free speech, artistic expression, and plain old dirtiness of Jim Morrison singing "She gets high." Rock on!
Horns up.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
My Own Private Lent (aka How to drive yourself crazy in college)
Well, I may not be as smart as I had hoped. I already mentioned that I earned a 71% on a physiology test, but then I found out later that I earned an 80% on my pathology test. And I knew that pathology stuff in and out. So I am humbled and discouraged and angry and whatever other adjective you want to throw in there.
So I decided to "go monk" as Hansel would say. I am banning all meat (fish, poultry, beef, pork... you name it) until I get an "A" on a test. I took a test today in Pharmacy Management... if I get less than a B on it, I am going to include pop to the ban.
I want to be a good student as well as a good pharmacist, and I am struggling with the fact that they aren't always the same thing. There are people who are good at studying FOR a test, and there are those of us who are good at LEARNING. Stuff sticks with me, and I am able to apply my gained knowledge to creative problem solving and other such "real-life" endeavors... but it hasn't exactly shown in my grades since pharmacy school has begun.
So, no other comments today other than my public proclamation of Dummy Lent: the self prohibition of something you enjoy in order to focus attention on something else. We'll see if I become a vegetarian or not.
Horns up.
So I decided to "go monk" as Hansel would say. I am banning all meat (fish, poultry, beef, pork... you name it) until I get an "A" on a test. I took a test today in Pharmacy Management... if I get less than a B on it, I am going to include pop to the ban.
I want to be a good student as well as a good pharmacist, and I am struggling with the fact that they aren't always the same thing. There are people who are good at studying FOR a test, and there are those of us who are good at LEARNING. Stuff sticks with me, and I am able to apply my gained knowledge to creative problem solving and other such "real-life" endeavors... but it hasn't exactly shown in my grades since pharmacy school has begun.
So, no other comments today other than my public proclamation of Dummy Lent: the self prohibition of something you enjoy in order to focus attention on something else. We'll see if I become a vegetarian or not.
Horns up.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Catching Up and the Gooseys
Hey everyone! What's new? Well, I am mid-way through an ugly week at school, so posts aren't exactly flying off the presses... but I thought I would catch up a little bit. Not much is new. My classes are off to a rough start, and I honestly have no idea what I am doing wrong. I pulled in a 71% on my physiology test, and that is with a ton of studying. I felt pretty confident about the material, and still do, yet it didn't translate to a decent test score. The killer thing is that other people did well, so it wasn't a case of an unfair or overly hard test. Maybe I am not as smart as I thought...
Anyway, I am still in awe that I am celebrating my one-year anniversary of blogging... so much has happened in the last year! So I am going to hand out some awards. Maybe I will do this annually, we can call them the Gooseys or something.
1) My man Rich. He had the Best Year Ever award. He went from confirmed bachelor and hockey fan for life to married, expecting, and without professional hockey to watch over the last 12 months.
2) I myself get the Rollercoaster award. I was denied entry to pharmacy school, then on the waiting list, then admitted all in the same summer. Talk about emotionally exhausting! I would have never recovered if it wasn't for the hard, patient work of five very close friends (three of which were relatively new friends too).
3) Best Day Ever award was a hotly contested award, but it is given to the day I spent having lunch at Delice last summer. It will go down as one of my top memories ever.
4) The Homemaking award goes to Mark, the king of weird living arrangements. Currently he resides in an abandoned day care that the city is threatening to use imminent domain to bulldoze it. More on that later (pictures to come).
5) The Biochemical award also goes to my brother for his experiments in the field of microbrewery, alcohol metabolism, and other such scholarly pursuits.
6) It may seem odd, but the Comedy award goes to Anna Niccole Smith for her "Like my body?" flame out at the Billboard awards. That will never not be funny to me.
7) The Natural Selection award goes to the Creighton sorority girl and her dirt-ball boyfriend who loaded up on meth and died of hypothermia this winter, dragging the local media with them. Way to go!
8) Best Movie Ever award goes to Napoleon Dynamite. This will go down as a classic in the vein of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I like it more everytime I see it.
9) The Killer Tunes award went to The New Pornographers for their wicked awesome music. Remember, the Gooseys' only temporal requirement is when Carl comes into contact with it, not when it was originally introduced.
10) Epic DVD awards were given to Old Boy, Chappelle Show Season One, House of Flying Daggers, and Dr. Stranglelove SE this year. Aqua Teen Hunger Force swept all of the TV to DVD awards, and Bootleg of the Year went to the Korean copy of Eraserhead we procured.
11) Best Overheard Quote was a shoe-in; "Whoever invented cigarettes is, like, related to God!" Classic!
12) The Song that Makes Me Smile award was much anticipated, with so many great candidates. Attendees at the award ceremony wondered if it would be Float On by Modest Mouse (which Carl literally rushed out to buy the album of within 10 minutes of hearing), or maybe something retro (like the Talking Heads or QOTSA that Carl obsessively plays over and over and over...), but were shocked to find out that the winner was indeed What You Waiting For by Gwen Steffani. (That song put its hooks deep in my brain!)
13) The Constant Source of Amusing Stories award seemed like it should come Mark and his crew, or maybe even Creighton University, but it instead went to my niece Kaylee who is always coming up with something funny to do or say (she'll be 4 in March).
14) Best Animated Show Ever award was a no decision. Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Family Guy reruns, Super Milk Chan, Simpsons, and Samurai Champloo and others all fought a battle that saw no victor. Since when are animated shows the only ones worth my free time? TV has really started to suck.
15) Religious Experience of the Year was another hotly contested award. "Carl's participation in the Mass of the Holy Spirit won," but "seeing Shaolin Soccer" was a close second. "The Passion" demanded a recount, but still, no votes.
16) Man I Tried to Emulate award is a weird award, because I almost always seem to fail living up to even my own standards, let alone someone elses'. I think the award was given to a half-breed of Gandhi and Carl Sagan. There may be some John Stewart in there, but it is hard to tell with all of that contamination from every other source of inspiration in my life.
Other awards (given at a separate ceremony at an earlier date) include Best Manga Ever (Rurouni Kenshin), Origami Model of the Year (the Rooster), Electrical Device I Can;t Live Without (digital camera just barely edged out my Nomad MP3 Player), Portable Japanese Food of the Year (onigiri), Best Soda Ever (Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper), Inside Joke of the Year (ani me is teh suck.), Food so Good that it Should be Illegal (Gyros), Best Time Waster (PS2), Kanji of the Year (楽), disappointment of the Year (that I am so fat), and Re-donk-ulous Notion award (the idea that The Passion was a good evangelistic tool).
Oh, and in the top secret ceremony, awards were given for Favorite Person Ever, Best Way to Spend Free Time, Biggest Regret of the Year, and Song I Sang Too Much Outloud in My Car. But those awards are not for public knowledge.
Here's looking to next year, with a new Willy Wonka, a Hitchhiker's Guide... movie, Rich's fatherhood, my brother being a full time student, Logan starting 3rd grade, my Japanese getting better, and a TON more experiences in medicine coming up.
Horn's Up!
Anyway, I am still in awe that I am celebrating my one-year anniversary of blogging... so much has happened in the last year! So I am going to hand out some awards. Maybe I will do this annually, we can call them the Gooseys or something.
1) My man Rich. He had the Best Year Ever award. He went from confirmed bachelor and hockey fan for life to married, expecting, and without professional hockey to watch over the last 12 months.
2) I myself get the Rollercoaster award. I was denied entry to pharmacy school, then on the waiting list, then admitted all in the same summer. Talk about emotionally exhausting! I would have never recovered if it wasn't for the hard, patient work of five very close friends (three of which were relatively new friends too).
3) Best Day Ever award was a hotly contested award, but it is given to the day I spent having lunch at Delice last summer. It will go down as one of my top memories ever.
4) The Homemaking award goes to Mark, the king of weird living arrangements. Currently he resides in an abandoned day care that the city is threatening to use imminent domain to bulldoze it. More on that later (pictures to come).
5) The Biochemical award also goes to my brother for his experiments in the field of microbrewery, alcohol metabolism, and other such scholarly pursuits.
6) It may seem odd, but the Comedy award goes to Anna Niccole Smith for her "Like my body?" flame out at the Billboard awards. That will never not be funny to me.
7) The Natural Selection award goes to the Creighton sorority girl and her dirt-ball boyfriend who loaded up on meth and died of hypothermia this winter, dragging the local media with them. Way to go!
8) Best Movie Ever award goes to Napoleon Dynamite. This will go down as a classic in the vein of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I like it more everytime I see it.
9) The Killer Tunes award went to The New Pornographers for their wicked awesome music. Remember, the Gooseys' only temporal requirement is when Carl comes into contact with it, not when it was originally introduced.
10) Epic DVD awards were given to Old Boy, Chappelle Show Season One, House of Flying Daggers, and Dr. Stranglelove SE this year. Aqua Teen Hunger Force swept all of the TV to DVD awards, and Bootleg of the Year went to the Korean copy of Eraserhead we procured.
11) Best Overheard Quote was a shoe-in; "Whoever invented cigarettes is, like, related to God!" Classic!
12) The Song that Makes Me Smile award was much anticipated, with so many great candidates. Attendees at the award ceremony wondered if it would be Float On by Modest Mouse (which Carl literally rushed out to buy the album of within 10 minutes of hearing), or maybe something retro (like the Talking Heads or QOTSA that Carl obsessively plays over and over and over...), but were shocked to find out that the winner was indeed What You Waiting For by Gwen Steffani. (That song put its hooks deep in my brain!)
13) The Constant Source of Amusing Stories award seemed like it should come Mark and his crew, or maybe even Creighton University, but it instead went to my niece Kaylee who is always coming up with something funny to do or say (she'll be 4 in March).
14) Best Animated Show Ever award was a no decision. Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Family Guy reruns, Super Milk Chan, Simpsons, and Samurai Champloo and others all fought a battle that saw no victor. Since when are animated shows the only ones worth my free time? TV has really started to suck.
15) Religious Experience of the Year was another hotly contested award. "Carl's participation in the Mass of the Holy Spirit won," but "seeing Shaolin Soccer" was a close second. "The Passion" demanded a recount, but still, no votes.
16) Man I Tried to Emulate award is a weird award, because I almost always seem to fail living up to even my own standards, let alone someone elses'. I think the award was given to a half-breed of Gandhi and Carl Sagan. There may be some John Stewart in there, but it is hard to tell with all of that contamination from every other source of inspiration in my life.
Other awards (given at a separate ceremony at an earlier date) include Best Manga Ever (Rurouni Kenshin), Origami Model of the Year (the Rooster), Electrical Device I Can;t Live Without (digital camera just barely edged out my Nomad MP3 Player), Portable Japanese Food of the Year (onigiri), Best Soda Ever (Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper), Inside Joke of the Year (ani me is teh suck.), Food so Good that it Should be Illegal (Gyros), Best Time Waster (PS2), Kanji of the Year (楽), disappointment of the Year (that I am so fat), and Re-donk-ulous Notion award (the idea that The Passion was a good evangelistic tool).
Oh, and in the top secret ceremony, awards were given for Favorite Person Ever, Best Way to Spend Free Time, Biggest Regret of the Year, and Song I Sang Too Much Outloud in My Car. But those awards are not for public knowledge.
Here's looking to next year, with a new Willy Wonka, a Hitchhiker's Guide... movie, Rich's fatherhood, my brother being a full time student, Logan starting 3rd grade, my Japanese getting better, and a TON more experiences in medicine coming up.
Horn's Up!
Friday, February 04, 2005
Jack-O on his Back-O
I have to admit something embarrassing to my loyal readers and compulsory BE viewers… It’s something that a few of you may have suspected. I mean, it probably shows in the things I say, the movies I like, the nervous way I look at other guys at the gym, the clothes I wear, and most of all, the songs that are on my MP3 player…
I like Michael Jackson.
It’s true! And it is killing me that he has become such a sideshow.
For people my parent’s age, it is hard not to respect the Jackson 5. They were cute, represented every “school days” age, and most importantly, they were incredibly talented. Pair all of this with the impossible Horatio Alger story about a poor family from a cracker-box house in Gary, Indiana, and you have national treasures. Most amazing of all of the Jackson’s was Michael. Cute little Michael. The one with all the killer dance steps and powerful voice.
For people of my age, it is hard not to remember the “Off the Wall” and “Thriller” Michael Jackson as a sort of rock and roll god. We all learned the dance steps (to one level of proficiency or another). We about fainted when he moon walked on TV. We eagerly gobbled up the videos that ran incessantly on MTV. We owned the record and tapes, wore the pin-backs, and some of us even aspired to wear the glove… People were paying to see Jackson impersonators at this time, a fad that only Elvis had really ever created. And, of course, there was the video Thriller, which was totally awesome!
Then he went absolutely nuts. Each album, each stunt became more and more bizarre. The self-proclamations of badness and manhood seemed forced even back then. We were already laughing at his expense when his hair caught fire, what were we expected to do when he more-or-less masturbated on the hood of a car, while he smashed it to pieces?
Then there were the odd-ball cohorts, the llama, rumors of bankruptcy, the eccentric spending sprees, the Neverland Ranch, Bubbles, the Elephant Man’s skeleton, Captain E-O at Disneyworld, the Jehovah’s Witness stuff, the double-crossing of Paul McCartney, the whole Moonwalker fiasco, and the giant pseudo-Fascist marketing campaign involving a gigantic statue of Michael. His ego was growing and his sanity was fading at the same rate.
When he released “Just Leave Me Alone,” it was widely understood as a cry for help. But at that time, we thought it was a slight madness that came as a price for his incredible popularity. The man could go nowhere in the world without being mobbed. But it wasn’t long before all of the “little-boy” rumors began to spread.
There was a point where most people had written him off as a falling star, succumbing to his own quirks and dementia. We were just starting to get the full picture of what his childlike was like, and understanding what had made Michael who he is (good and bad). But he was changing in many ways, becoming cartoonish, weird, and as many comedians point out daily, white. The strange military-like shirts and face mask began to paint a picture of a reclusive has been struggling to stay out of the papers.
But then came the Oprah interview. I remember sitting at college and watching the interview she conducted on TV. There were a lot of us watching it, all interested in what was going to be said. We were waiting for him to do or say something outlandish, and he did. Overall, Oprah was respectful and painted a sympathetic picture of him; rekindling a small passion in some of us for Michael and his music. I started believing again that he truly is the King of Pop.
Not long after that things spiraled out of control. He was overcompensating in the media, trying hard to show he was both above criticism, and a normal heterosexual adult. There was an embarrassing video with Tyra Banks, sham marriages, charges of child molestation, an unpalatable duet with his sister, and some ugly words about Jews in his new songs (thought to be come-back material). And more allegations, some that were settled out of court, which fueled speculation only further.
By the time that he had accused Tony of being the literal devil, started building a conspiracy theory about why the press was out to stop him, hung his child over a railing, and the “Living with Michael Jackson” special blow up in his face, we had all grow weary of him. It was hard to even listen to his music without feeling uncomfortable, let alone be a fan.
And here we are in court again. His ranch raided by lawmen a few times, and a lot of fingers being pointed. The man is sick, and I say sick not as a judgment, but as a diagnosis. He needs help, and it may be too late. Even without the stink of child molestation, he is not an adjusted member of society. He has become forever associated with sleeping with children and being unnaturally fixated on Peter Pan.
The amazing thing about Michael he is never beyond comebacks. He has had a few in his day; the most recent one being his televised birthday spectacular. I must have watched that thing a dozen times on reruns and on videotape. I think I watched so fervently because deep down I wish that he would have never imploded. Deep down I wished I could go back to the time that I bought Rockwell’s single just because Michael sang on the chorus. Deep down, I still believed in Michael.
But I am afraid he is out of comebacks. As I said in my opening, it is killing me.
But it isn’t stopping me from totally rocking out to “Rock with You” and “Human Nature” when no one else is at home. And I’ll always have Prince…
Horn’s up.
I like Michael Jackson.
It’s true! And it is killing me that he has become such a sideshow.
For people my parent’s age, it is hard not to respect the Jackson 5. They were cute, represented every “school days” age, and most importantly, they were incredibly talented. Pair all of this with the impossible Horatio Alger story about a poor family from a cracker-box house in Gary, Indiana, and you have national treasures. Most amazing of all of the Jackson’s was Michael. Cute little Michael. The one with all the killer dance steps and powerful voice.
For people of my age, it is hard not to remember the “Off the Wall” and “Thriller” Michael Jackson as a sort of rock and roll god. We all learned the dance steps (to one level of proficiency or another). We about fainted when he moon walked on TV. We eagerly gobbled up the videos that ran incessantly on MTV. We owned the record and tapes, wore the pin-backs, and some of us even aspired to wear the glove… People were paying to see Jackson impersonators at this time, a fad that only Elvis had really ever created. And, of course, there was the video Thriller, which was totally awesome!
Then he went absolutely nuts. Each album, each stunt became more and more bizarre. The self-proclamations of badness and manhood seemed forced even back then. We were already laughing at his expense when his hair caught fire, what were we expected to do when he more-or-less masturbated on the hood of a car, while he smashed it to pieces?
Then there were the odd-ball cohorts, the llama, rumors of bankruptcy, the eccentric spending sprees, the Neverland Ranch, Bubbles, the Elephant Man’s skeleton, Captain E-O at Disneyworld, the Jehovah’s Witness stuff, the double-crossing of Paul McCartney, the whole Moonwalker fiasco, and the giant pseudo-Fascist marketing campaign involving a gigantic statue of Michael. His ego was growing and his sanity was fading at the same rate.
When he released “Just Leave Me Alone,” it was widely understood as a cry for help. But at that time, we thought it was a slight madness that came as a price for his incredible popularity. The man could go nowhere in the world without being mobbed. But it wasn’t long before all of the “little-boy” rumors began to spread.
There was a point where most people had written him off as a falling star, succumbing to his own quirks and dementia. We were just starting to get the full picture of what his childlike was like, and understanding what had made Michael who he is (good and bad). But he was changing in many ways, becoming cartoonish, weird, and as many comedians point out daily, white. The strange military-like shirts and face mask began to paint a picture of a reclusive has been struggling to stay out of the papers.
But then came the Oprah interview. I remember sitting at college and watching the interview she conducted on TV. There were a lot of us watching it, all interested in what was going to be said. We were waiting for him to do or say something outlandish, and he did. Overall, Oprah was respectful and painted a sympathetic picture of him; rekindling a small passion in some of us for Michael and his music. I started believing again that he truly is the King of Pop.
Not long after that things spiraled out of control. He was overcompensating in the media, trying hard to show he was both above criticism, and a normal heterosexual adult. There was an embarrassing video with Tyra Banks, sham marriages, charges of child molestation, an unpalatable duet with his sister, and some ugly words about Jews in his new songs (thought to be come-back material). And more allegations, some that were settled out of court, which fueled speculation only further.
By the time that he had accused Tony of being the literal devil, started building a conspiracy theory about why the press was out to stop him, hung his child over a railing, and the “Living with Michael Jackson” special blow up in his face, we had all grow weary of him. It was hard to even listen to his music without feeling uncomfortable, let alone be a fan.
And here we are in court again. His ranch raided by lawmen a few times, and a lot of fingers being pointed. The man is sick, and I say sick not as a judgment, but as a diagnosis. He needs help, and it may be too late. Even without the stink of child molestation, he is not an adjusted member of society. He has become forever associated with sleeping with children and being unnaturally fixated on Peter Pan.
The amazing thing about Michael he is never beyond comebacks. He has had a few in his day; the most recent one being his televised birthday spectacular. I must have watched that thing a dozen times on reruns and on videotape. I think I watched so fervently because deep down I wish that he would have never imploded. Deep down I wished I could go back to the time that I bought Rockwell’s single just because Michael sang on the chorus. Deep down, I still believed in Michael.
But I am afraid he is out of comebacks. As I said in my opening, it is killing me.
But it isn’t stopping me from totally rocking out to “Rock with You” and “Human Nature” when no one else is at home. And I’ll always have Prince…
Horn’s up.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Better Homes and Heresies
For those of us who like to think we have at least one foot in the door when it comes to Christianity, we are haunted constantly by a few specters. These superstitions and paradoxes haunt us, and we have to choose whether or not to pay attention to them, or to suppress them in some manner. For non-Christians, these items serve as an interesting slice of anthropology from an already interesting people group (the religious).
One of these things I wonder about the most is what constitutes heresy. I mean, what sort of things can we think, say, read, repeat, and laugh at without offending God in some deep, meaningful way. You may be surprised that I care, but I do. If there is a personal God, than understanding heresy is key to staying in favor with Him, right?
Heresy is deeply tied to two other notions; using God’s name in vain and blasphemy. They are equally as hard to define to a satisfactory extent. I mean, is using God’s name in vain just saying “Jesus Christ!” in frustration or anger, or is it something more, like invoking his name for a worthless or frivolous cause. Or, is it as the early believers thought… that Yahweh doesn’t even want his name said at all (they went so far as to never say Jehovah or Yahweh out loud, and when it was written, they would remove letters, ala YHWH).
Blasphemy is also a scary idea to mess around with because we are taught in the New Testament that blasphemy of the Holy Spirit is the only unforgivable sin. Whatever blasphemy of the Holy Spirit is. Many say that it is the willful living in contempt of Christ and the Kingdom. But that isn’t explicitly spelled out anywhere.
The reason these specters haunt me is because I have a pretty liberal and edgy sense of humor. I also am not easily offended by many things. So I often wonder, is that a measure of how far I am from God, or is it a personality quirk? Should I wonder so much about being me if there is a God who made me “me” after all (a homosexual man could ask the same question)? Or is it a burden I have been given to try to overcome (again, a homosexual man…)? It’s all a lot to think about when I am supposed to be learning about what ions cross membranes in the renal system, and the difference between neoplasia and hyperplasia.
One of my favorite jokes of all time was a “bit” done by John Leguizamo on Conan O’Brien years ago. He was talking about an eccentric uncle he has. He said he was a triple threat; a Mexican, deaf, and gay. One of the things his uncle used to say was “I know things even God doesn’t know.” I thought this was hilarious because the notion of it was so absurd.
I mean, if you believed in God, there is no way you could be so brash to claim you know more than him. So you joke about it right? Its like me saying I could dunk on Shaq, or that I could knock-out Oscar De La Hoya, or I could out run, well, anyone! I mean, you know God is all knowing, and so you make an outlandish claim to make people realize that you are bragging. After all, bragging about believable exploits is lying. The problem is, I knew a couple people at my Bible college who were offended when he said this. We were all watching Conan and two of the guys got mad.
They said that what the comedian had said was heresy. I guess in some strict, medieval way it was, but in all practical, modern ways, it was a joke. I was not in the least offended by it, and to this day it remains one of my favorite comedy bits ever. Could God, if He is up there, find offense at someone saying this in jest?
Remember the furor over the Beatles and the whole “bigger than Jesus” comment being taken out of context? Because of this, towns in modern America demanded its Christian faithful to have anything with the Fab Four on it burnt. They held bonfires. And this was in the 60’s! Not the 20’s or 1800’s. Your mom was old enough to burn her Beatles shoes and 45’s because they offended the most high. Sort of a scary picture to paint of hair-trigger Christianity in America. But then again we are currently doing the same to Spongebob, but that is a topic for my brother to run with (see link to the right, under “Troy Ounce”).
Heresy to me is something much greater than outrageous claims, but it does seem hard to define. I was interested from that point on in what exactly heresy is. When Trent Reznor, media darling of the day and target for Christian fundamentalists released the song “Heresy” in the late 90’s, I thought for sure his atheistic, nihilistic self would have some insight into the definition…
“he sewed his eyes shut because he is afraid to seehe tries to tell me what I put inside of mehe’s got the answers to ease my curiosityhe dreamed a god up and called it ChristianityGod is dead and no one caresif there is a hell I'll see you there”
Okay, enough to elicit an eyebrow lift, but nothing heretical. All Trent managed to do was wrap up all of the frustration and age-old attacks against Christianity in one verse. The only heresy here is that he says that Christianity and its God were dreamed up… but as I have mentioned before, there isn’t empirical evidence that this is not so, and there never will be. So believers require faith, and if Trent and people who think like him do not experience this faith, then they/we will think the same thing. Besides, Trent even nods to the punishment Christians will no doubt assume he will get for his views.
(I actually used to think that Trent said “He’s got more answers than he has curiosity” and I thought that line alone summed up the major flaw in many religious folks, but I digress.)
So where does that leave me? I kept searching, in classic literature, in some of the literature of the saints, and some of the works of the skeptics and agnostics alike… and I kept building a base to build on, but never a definition of heresy and its cousins. However, I am here to blog to you today that I have a good example of heresy in action…
Watch Desperate Housewives. Okay, are you done laughing? I am not joking. Let me try it again. Desperate Housewives. In the context of Christianity and all that comes with it, that show is most definitely heretical. Why? Because every action, every character, and every motivation on that show is built on the premise of Godlessness.
I think that it is a very interesting slice of sociology to see how popular that show has become. It takes all of the worst aspects of a soap opera, and pairs them with better production values, sexier actresses, and a better time slot. People tune in to see the women of Wisteria Lane live as if there is no eternal implications for their actions on this world. Pretty heretical by Christian standards. They sleep with who they wish, try to kill people, lie, cheat, covet, and on and on and on. There isn’t even an attempt at drawing a moral from the show, or to introduce a conscious. It is pure guilty pleasure. I mean, the impossibly hot Eva Longorius (I bet I butchered that name!) is even sleeping with a high school kid on the show!
Not that I am the type to lead the charge against a TV show. Just don’t watch it if it bothers you. I personally haven’t the interest to watch it. And I am the last person to be offended by it. Matter of fact, I was more offended by Supernanny Monday night; a woman had no idea that her toddler had left the house as was darting in and out of the street in her neighborhood, and wandered about all alone while cars drove by. Her parenting was offensive to me! But I think Desperate Housewives serves to illustrate, if not define, heresy for me. Hedonism without the slightest nod to a God or moral code.
(And I don’t mean to bash Desperate Housewives here, because I really don’t care. It is the new kid on the block, the new national fad, so it will be a lightning rod of both good and bad press… no offense to the show or ABC. But seriously, it is trashy.)
We saw the same attitude in many things before it, and we’ll see it displayed in things after it. Studio 54 was a great example. In the 70’s it was the center for heresy because it was a place for people to anonymously indulge in absolutely any vice. In the 80’s, it was any number of things. Its anywhere where the “don’t judge me,” “what happens here stays here,” and “you only live once” ideals come into play. If there is a God, and he is the Christian God, then you have to believe that nothing offends Him more than people living like the “I Am” is not. So to me, questioning the validity of the Bible and its God is less heretical than, say, porn.
Now that I have a working definition of heresy, I may have to do some stock taking. How close to that line do I want to toe? Or do I care at all? Hard questions to answer, and what I decide to do with this definition will ultimately speak volumes about Carl.
I do know one thing: I still think that a deaf, gay, Mexican claiming to know more than God is funny.
Oh, and I also know that you were out-heresied by beautiful actresses, Trent. : ) Well, unless we compare Desperate Housewives to that snuff/horror film you made to tie your videos together… that was just sick.
Horns up!
PS – lest my blog seem like what I intended it to be, a site for essays, I will add a late personal touch here. I am happy that my friend Phuong is back home and safe after her trip. Welcome back, now get to work! I can’t imagine trying to pick up after a week off of classes… and I want to tell Cojo to quit being a fat lard and to eat some ham.
102.5 FM KARL was playing these while I blogged and spell checked:
1. Unchained – Van Halen
2. Thorn – Unida
3. Winter – Tori Amos
4. He feels bad – Helmet
5. Automatic Blues – The Cult
6. Bad Dream Mama – Eagles of Death Metal
7. New Tsar and Catapult – Burn Witch Burn
8. You’re Pretty Good Looking for a Girl – White Stripes
9. Christian Brothers – Elliot Smith
10. Slay – McLusky
11. Electioneering – Radiohead
12. Chainsaw - Ramones
13. Valentine and Garuda – Frank Black
14. Your Imagination – Hall and Oates
15. Feels So Good – Jamiroquai
16. Friends of P. – The Rentals
17. The New Face of Zero and One – The New Pornographers
18. Aeris’ Theme – Nobuo Uematsu
19. Perfect Day – Lou Reed
20. Bigmouth Strikes Again – The Smiths
21. Shake Your Rump – Beastie Boys
22. Rocker – AC/DC
23. Easy Skanking – Bob Marley
24. Last Dinosaur – The Pillows
25. Unravel – Bjork
26. Bananas and Blow – Ween
27. Trampled Under Foot – Led Zepplin
28. Freddie’s Dead – Curtis Mayfield
One of these things I wonder about the most is what constitutes heresy. I mean, what sort of things can we think, say, read, repeat, and laugh at without offending God in some deep, meaningful way. You may be surprised that I care, but I do. If there is a personal God, than understanding heresy is key to staying in favor with Him, right?
Heresy is deeply tied to two other notions; using God’s name in vain and blasphemy. They are equally as hard to define to a satisfactory extent. I mean, is using God’s name in vain just saying “Jesus Christ!” in frustration or anger, or is it something more, like invoking his name for a worthless or frivolous cause. Or, is it as the early believers thought… that Yahweh doesn’t even want his name said at all (they went so far as to never say Jehovah or Yahweh out loud, and when it was written, they would remove letters, ala YHWH).
Blasphemy is also a scary idea to mess around with because we are taught in the New Testament that blasphemy of the Holy Spirit is the only unforgivable sin. Whatever blasphemy of the Holy Spirit is. Many say that it is the willful living in contempt of Christ and the Kingdom. But that isn’t explicitly spelled out anywhere.
The reason these specters haunt me is because I have a pretty liberal and edgy sense of humor. I also am not easily offended by many things. So I often wonder, is that a measure of how far I am from God, or is it a personality quirk? Should I wonder so much about being me if there is a God who made me “me” after all (a homosexual man could ask the same question)? Or is it a burden I have been given to try to overcome (again, a homosexual man…)? It’s all a lot to think about when I am supposed to be learning about what ions cross membranes in the renal system, and the difference between neoplasia and hyperplasia.
One of my favorite jokes of all time was a “bit” done by John Leguizamo on Conan O’Brien years ago. He was talking about an eccentric uncle he has. He said he was a triple threat; a Mexican, deaf, and gay. One of the things his uncle used to say was “I know things even God doesn’t know.” I thought this was hilarious because the notion of it was so absurd.
I mean, if you believed in God, there is no way you could be so brash to claim you know more than him. So you joke about it right? Its like me saying I could dunk on Shaq, or that I could knock-out Oscar De La Hoya, or I could out run, well, anyone! I mean, you know God is all knowing, and so you make an outlandish claim to make people realize that you are bragging. After all, bragging about believable exploits is lying. The problem is, I knew a couple people at my Bible college who were offended when he said this. We were all watching Conan and two of the guys got mad.
They said that what the comedian had said was heresy. I guess in some strict, medieval way it was, but in all practical, modern ways, it was a joke. I was not in the least offended by it, and to this day it remains one of my favorite comedy bits ever. Could God, if He is up there, find offense at someone saying this in jest?
Remember the furor over the Beatles and the whole “bigger than Jesus” comment being taken out of context? Because of this, towns in modern America demanded its Christian faithful to have anything with the Fab Four on it burnt. They held bonfires. And this was in the 60’s! Not the 20’s or 1800’s. Your mom was old enough to burn her Beatles shoes and 45’s because they offended the most high. Sort of a scary picture to paint of hair-trigger Christianity in America. But then again we are currently doing the same to Spongebob, but that is a topic for my brother to run with (see link to the right, under “Troy Ounce”).
Heresy to me is something much greater than outrageous claims, but it does seem hard to define. I was interested from that point on in what exactly heresy is. When Trent Reznor, media darling of the day and target for Christian fundamentalists released the song “Heresy” in the late 90’s, I thought for sure his atheistic, nihilistic self would have some insight into the definition…
“he sewed his eyes shut because he is afraid to seehe tries to tell me what I put inside of mehe’s got the answers to ease my curiosityhe dreamed a god up and called it ChristianityGod is dead and no one caresif there is a hell I'll see you there”
Okay, enough to elicit an eyebrow lift, but nothing heretical. All Trent managed to do was wrap up all of the frustration and age-old attacks against Christianity in one verse. The only heresy here is that he says that Christianity and its God were dreamed up… but as I have mentioned before, there isn’t empirical evidence that this is not so, and there never will be. So believers require faith, and if Trent and people who think like him do not experience this faith, then they/we will think the same thing. Besides, Trent even nods to the punishment Christians will no doubt assume he will get for his views.
(I actually used to think that Trent said “He’s got more answers than he has curiosity” and I thought that line alone summed up the major flaw in many religious folks, but I digress.)
So where does that leave me? I kept searching, in classic literature, in some of the literature of the saints, and some of the works of the skeptics and agnostics alike… and I kept building a base to build on, but never a definition of heresy and its cousins. However, I am here to blog to you today that I have a good example of heresy in action…
Watch Desperate Housewives. Okay, are you done laughing? I am not joking. Let me try it again. Desperate Housewives. In the context of Christianity and all that comes with it, that show is most definitely heretical. Why? Because every action, every character, and every motivation on that show is built on the premise of Godlessness.
I think that it is a very interesting slice of sociology to see how popular that show has become. It takes all of the worst aspects of a soap opera, and pairs them with better production values, sexier actresses, and a better time slot. People tune in to see the women of Wisteria Lane live as if there is no eternal implications for their actions on this world. Pretty heretical by Christian standards. They sleep with who they wish, try to kill people, lie, cheat, covet, and on and on and on. There isn’t even an attempt at drawing a moral from the show, or to introduce a conscious. It is pure guilty pleasure. I mean, the impossibly hot Eva Longorius (I bet I butchered that name!) is even sleeping with a high school kid on the show!
Not that I am the type to lead the charge against a TV show. Just don’t watch it if it bothers you. I personally haven’t the interest to watch it. And I am the last person to be offended by it. Matter of fact, I was more offended by Supernanny Monday night; a woman had no idea that her toddler had left the house as was darting in and out of the street in her neighborhood, and wandered about all alone while cars drove by. Her parenting was offensive to me! But I think Desperate Housewives serves to illustrate, if not define, heresy for me. Hedonism without the slightest nod to a God or moral code.
(And I don’t mean to bash Desperate Housewives here, because I really don’t care. It is the new kid on the block, the new national fad, so it will be a lightning rod of both good and bad press… no offense to the show or ABC. But seriously, it is trashy.)
We saw the same attitude in many things before it, and we’ll see it displayed in things after it. Studio 54 was a great example. In the 70’s it was the center for heresy because it was a place for people to anonymously indulge in absolutely any vice. In the 80’s, it was any number of things. Its anywhere where the “don’t judge me,” “what happens here stays here,” and “you only live once” ideals come into play. If there is a God, and he is the Christian God, then you have to believe that nothing offends Him more than people living like the “I Am” is not. So to me, questioning the validity of the Bible and its God is less heretical than, say, porn.
Now that I have a working definition of heresy, I may have to do some stock taking. How close to that line do I want to toe? Or do I care at all? Hard questions to answer, and what I decide to do with this definition will ultimately speak volumes about Carl.
I do know one thing: I still think that a deaf, gay, Mexican claiming to know more than God is funny.
Oh, and I also know that you were out-heresied by beautiful actresses, Trent. : ) Well, unless we compare Desperate Housewives to that snuff/horror film you made to tie your videos together… that was just sick.
Horns up!
PS – lest my blog seem like what I intended it to be, a site for essays, I will add a late personal touch here. I am happy that my friend Phuong is back home and safe after her trip. Welcome back, now get to work! I can’t imagine trying to pick up after a week off of classes… and I want to tell Cojo to quit being a fat lard and to eat some ham.
102.5 FM KARL was playing these while I blogged and spell checked:
1. Unchained – Van Halen
2. Thorn – Unida
3. Winter – Tori Amos
4. He feels bad – Helmet
5. Automatic Blues – The Cult
6. Bad Dream Mama – Eagles of Death Metal
7. New Tsar and Catapult – Burn Witch Burn
8. You’re Pretty Good Looking for a Girl – White Stripes
9. Christian Brothers – Elliot Smith
10. Slay – McLusky
11. Electioneering – Radiohead
12. Chainsaw - Ramones
13. Valentine and Garuda – Frank Black
14. Your Imagination – Hall and Oates
15. Feels So Good – Jamiroquai
16. Friends of P. – The Rentals
17. The New Face of Zero and One – The New Pornographers
18. Aeris’ Theme – Nobuo Uematsu
19. Perfect Day – Lou Reed
20. Bigmouth Strikes Again – The Smiths
21. Shake Your Rump – Beastie Boys
22. Rocker – AC/DC
23. Easy Skanking – Bob Marley
24. Last Dinosaur – The Pillows
25. Unravel – Bjork
26. Bananas and Blow – Ween
27. Trampled Under Foot – Led Zepplin
28. Freddie’s Dead – Curtis Mayfield