Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Yes, Virginia, the World is Still Ending
If you needed further proof the end times are nigh, the best heavy metal I've seen on TV in years was from a musical episode of Codename: Kids Next Door about a psycho lunch lady and her giant magical sandwich, named "Slamwich". I'm not kidding-- I almost wish I were, except that some of that was seriously crunchy metal. And frankly, it's been too long since I heard a really blistering guitar solo, and this episode had 'em in spades. Iron Maiden, where have you gone?
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
The Right Kind of Monster
Hello. My name is Eric, and I'm a metalhead. Yes, when my peers were listening to Morrisey and the Cure, I was attending Van Halen concerts and buying Iron Maiden tapes. As a consequence, my reactions have been very mixed watching what's happened to Metallica in recent years. Sure, Lars Ulrich has had a reputation as a whiny bitch for a while, but while his crusade against Napster, as he put it, made him "the most hated man in rock and roll", there is a more nuanced position to see there-- if you don't overlook, as many did, Metallica's explicit policy for over a decade now of allowing, even encouraging, fans to bootleg their live shows. The irony there, of course, is that for most bands that aren't Metallica, the live shows are the ones that make them money, and the CDs are usually a net loss.
But I'm not talking about the causes and effects of piracy on content producers and middlement, I'm talking about Metallica. The band that played music to make your ears bleed by. The band that kicked so much ass in the '80s that they were practically synonymous with hardcore metal (Poison fans can go sit in the corner-- they were early '90s anyway). After "Metallica" (a.k.a. the Black Album), a lot of people, myself included, felt they'd lost their edge; they were heading in a more bluesy, melodic direction. James Hetfield was singing on this album! WTF!
Since that watershed album, they released Load and Reload, two albums that definitely continued the trend, going even further outside Metallica's traditional territory. None of this was bad, mind you, and I applaud them for daring to be experimental, but it wasn't the Metallica we all grew up with, the one that was badder-than-thou to, well, pretty much everybody. This was a kinder, gentler Metallica. They then came out with Garage, Inc., a mixed collection of covers "Stone Cold Crazy" rocked, and even "Whiskey in the Jar" wasn't bad-- but Metallica covering an Irish drinking song?!? WTF?!?), and S&M was an interesting take on a Greatest Hits album, recorded with the San Francisco Symphony. The only sad part was that given their direction, it wasn't anywhere nearly as surprising as it might have been had it followed "And Justice for All", or even "Metallica".
But now we have "St. Anger", and hot damn, Metallica is BACK, motherfucker! This is the album I've been waiting for all these years, and it's why I loved Metallica in the first place. Though it's sadly devoid of ultra-bitchin' guitar solos from Kirk Hammett, this is the hardest disc I've heard in a LONG time. There are a few missteps-- the lyrics for "The Unnamed Feeling" just sounds like they're trying too hard-- but songs like "Shoot Me Again", "Some Kind of Monster", "Dirty Window" and my favourite, the lead-off song "Frantic", hit me right where I live.
This is a Metallica that's angry again. But they're not teenagers anymore either-- they're not just angry, lashing out indiscriminately. James Hetfield went into rehab shortly after starting this album, and came out with a clearer vision, I think, than he's ever had as a lyricist. This is a healthy anger that isn't directed at himself, nor even the world in general, but specifically at the parts that get in the way of what he wants. It's hard to put into words, but if there's any Metallica fans out there that haven't got this album, do. You'll see what I mean.
But I'm not talking about the causes and effects of piracy on content producers and middlement, I'm talking about Metallica. The band that played music to make your ears bleed by. The band that kicked so much ass in the '80s that they were practically synonymous with hardcore metal (Poison fans can go sit in the corner-- they were early '90s anyway). After "Metallica" (a.k.a. the Black Album), a lot of people, myself included, felt they'd lost their edge; they were heading in a more bluesy, melodic direction. James Hetfield was singing on this album! WTF!
Since that watershed album, they released Load and Reload, two albums that definitely continued the trend, going even further outside Metallica's traditional territory. None of this was bad, mind you, and I applaud them for daring to be experimental, but it wasn't the Metallica we all grew up with, the one that was badder-than-thou to, well, pretty much everybody. This was a kinder, gentler Metallica. They then came out with Garage, Inc., a mixed collection of covers "Stone Cold Crazy" rocked, and even "Whiskey in the Jar" wasn't bad-- but Metallica covering an Irish drinking song?!? WTF?!?), and S&M was an interesting take on a Greatest Hits album, recorded with the San Francisco Symphony. The only sad part was that given their direction, it wasn't anywhere nearly as surprising as it might have been had it followed "And Justice for All", or even "Metallica".
But now we have "St. Anger", and hot damn, Metallica is BACK, motherfucker! This is the album I've been waiting for all these years, and it's why I loved Metallica in the first place. Though it's sadly devoid of ultra-bitchin' guitar solos from Kirk Hammett, this is the hardest disc I've heard in a LONG time. There are a few missteps-- the lyrics for "The Unnamed Feeling" just sounds like they're trying too hard-- but songs like "Shoot Me Again", "Some Kind of Monster", "Dirty Window" and my favourite, the lead-off song "Frantic", hit me right where I live.
This is a Metallica that's angry again. But they're not teenagers anymore either-- they're not just angry, lashing out indiscriminately. James Hetfield went into rehab shortly after starting this album, and came out with a clearer vision, I think, than he's ever had as a lyricist. This is a healthy anger that isn't directed at himself, nor even the world in general, but specifically at the parts that get in the way of what he wants. It's hard to put into words, but if there's any Metallica fans out there that haven't got this album, do. You'll see what I mean.
Monday, April 18, 2005
You can't judge a book by its cover, but you can regulate it anyway...
I recently read an article about the dichotomy between how we act and the entertainment we like to consume. The author, David Brooks, points out that though our entertainment choices are becoming increasingly more coarse, our actions have gone the opposite way-- fewer teenagers are having sex, and from those that are, fewer are getting pregnant.
Even Eminem, once you strip down the bluster and look past the foul language, is really complaining about having come from a broken home, and is just trying to find a chunk of suburban paradise to raise his daughter in.
If this doesn't encourage us to look past the simplistic associations of "violent movies make violent kids", then I'll eat Grape-Nuts for breakfast tomorrow. Because, unfortunately, opportunities for government intervention like that are rarely given up for such inconveniences as fact.
Even Eminem, once you strip down the bluster and look past the foul language, is really complaining about having come from a broken home, and is just trying to find a chunk of suburban paradise to raise his daughter in.
If this doesn't encourage us to look past the simplistic associations of "violent movies make violent kids", then I'll eat Grape-Nuts for breakfast tomorrow. Because, unfortunately, opportunities for government intervention like that are rarely given up for such inconveniences as fact.
Friday, April 15, 2005
It's Alive, I Tell You, It's ALIVE!!!
I just finished reading Mendel in the Kitchen, by Nina Federoff and Nancy Marie Brown. I have to say, entering into this book, I had a vague idea, like most Americans, I think, that GMOs (Genetically Modified Organisms) were a sort of necessary evil, but if you had the money, organic food was the way to go. Now, I'm not only seriously considering boycotting organic food, I'm also thinking about agitating for mandatory GMO labeling, so I'll be able to buy them preferentially.
Why the change of heart? For one thing, Federoff and Brown go into some technical detail (perhaps too much for a popular science book, but the detail is itself reassuring) on how exactly crops are naturally (and unnaturally) bred. Now that I know how they do it, it just doesn't seem bad when I hear about genes being added to corn or wheat. It's a very specific and targeted effort-- it's not like you just grab some random shit from a whale and blend it with some swiss chard and see what happens, like, for kicks, man. It's not a simple process, by any means, but it's also not a complete mystery either.
Another thing the authors point out is that it's not as if GMOs exist in a vacuum-- artificial foods of one kind or another have existed for most of the past century. Hybrid corn, for instance, is an artificially-created organism, and it comprises over 90% of current US corn production. And it's not as if we can somehow magically not need them. The main reason Paul Erlich and his thematic ancestor, Thomas Malthus were wrong (well, okay, one of many) is that they didn't account for the dramatically increased crop yield we've enjoyed since the "Green Revolution" started in the 1960s. This yield is the direct result of messing with our food's genes by hybridizing it with sometimes surprising combinations. We certainly wouldn't have enjoyed it if we had stuck to techniques and crops of pre-1961.
Organic farming isn't a solution either. The authors cite an economist, Indur Goklany, who estimates that if we reverted to the mostly-organic methods of pre-1961 farming, we'd need to use approximately 82 percent of the earth's land surface for farming, instead of our current 38 percent. When Sir Albert Howard essentially invented the organic farming movement in 1940, he was operating in an environment that even then was rapidly becoming obsolete. In the world Howard grew up in, the US population increased some 40 percent between 1870 and 1920, while the total arable land grew by 75 percent. In an environment like that, where no concern was given for environmental factors or preserving species habitats, organic farming is not an unreasonable approach. But the organic approach to agriculture requires, when considered as a whole system, at least twice as much land overall compared to conventional farming. That simply isn't an option in the world we live in today. When considered in terms of wildlife habitat preserved, organic farming does the earth far more harm than good. Unless you don't mind destroying the habitat of the Asian Elephant to grow more rice, that is. Personally, I can't stand the inscrutable bastards, but I must respect other people's opinions, even when they're wrong.
One detail that I didn't know before is how far the limit to which you can artificially tweak plants with no oversight whatsoever-- apparently, you can generate new organisms by irradiating them with gamma- or x-rays, or expose them to mutagenic chemicals to get the specific mutation you want (there are a number of behaviours you can't get this way, but play along for now), in addition to unknown others that may be neutral, or possibly harmful, and sell the stuff tomorrow. You can even sell them as organic foods, if you are an unethical bastard. But if you were to splice in one specific gene that generated the precise protein you wanted (and this is do-able; the hard part is knowing whether or not that protein will work the way you want it to), with every other gene in the plant being otherwise normal, you might be lucky to get it on the market within three years. So, the one that has completely unknown properties we can sell, but the one with known properties has to pass a complex array of tests and certifications that vary depending on which of the FDA, USDA, and/or EPA decide your crop falls under their jurisdiction. Yeah, that makes sense.
Allergies are certainly still a problem-- we still don't know everything about how they work, and why, but we are learning. Some research is going on now to reduce the effects of allergens, as well as to understand more about how they work, and more importantly, how they don't. So it's definitely still important, I think to let people know if their foods contain genes from commonly allergenic plants or animals. Even so, GMOs are a net win, I think.
The book covers a large number of other topics, including biodiversity, food safety concerns, the real meaning of sustainable agriculture and more that I don't have the room (or right now, the energy) to discuss. At the end of the day, though, my conclusion is that organic farming, while it feels good to be kind to Mother Earth and all, is harming her more than it helps, by requiring more land to support it than mainstream agricultural processes, and also by giving its consumers (wittingly or no) the impression that what they're eating is worth paying more for. At some point, and we've already hit this point in many third-world countries right now, we're going to have to realize that we either start eating GMOs, we start killing off even more wildlife, or we stop eating at all. Of the three options, well, I like eating, and I like birds. So pass the Roundup-ready corn, and don't forget to grill it with artificially-generated canola oil!
Why the change of heart? For one thing, Federoff and Brown go into some technical detail (perhaps too much for a popular science book, but the detail is itself reassuring) on how exactly crops are naturally (and unnaturally) bred. Now that I know how they do it, it just doesn't seem bad when I hear about genes being added to corn or wheat. It's a very specific and targeted effort-- it's not like you just grab some random shit from a whale and blend it with some swiss chard and see what happens, like, for kicks, man. It's not a simple process, by any means, but it's also not a complete mystery either.
Another thing the authors point out is that it's not as if GMOs exist in a vacuum-- artificial foods of one kind or another have existed for most of the past century. Hybrid corn, for instance, is an artificially-created organism, and it comprises over 90% of current US corn production. And it's not as if we can somehow magically not need them. The main reason Paul Erlich and his thematic ancestor, Thomas Malthus were wrong (well, okay, one of many) is that they didn't account for the dramatically increased crop yield we've enjoyed since the "Green Revolution" started in the 1960s. This yield is the direct result of messing with our food's genes by hybridizing it with sometimes surprising combinations. We certainly wouldn't have enjoyed it if we had stuck to techniques and crops of pre-1961.
Organic farming isn't a solution either. The authors cite an economist, Indur Goklany, who estimates that if we reverted to the mostly-organic methods of pre-1961 farming, we'd need to use approximately 82 percent of the earth's land surface for farming, instead of our current 38 percent. When Sir Albert Howard essentially invented the organic farming movement in 1940, he was operating in an environment that even then was rapidly becoming obsolete. In the world Howard grew up in, the US population increased some 40 percent between 1870 and 1920, while the total arable land grew by 75 percent. In an environment like that, where no concern was given for environmental factors or preserving species habitats, organic farming is not an unreasonable approach. But the organic approach to agriculture requires, when considered as a whole system, at least twice as much land overall compared to conventional farming. That simply isn't an option in the world we live in today. When considered in terms of wildlife habitat preserved, organic farming does the earth far more harm than good. Unless you don't mind destroying the habitat of the Asian Elephant to grow more rice, that is. Personally, I can't stand the inscrutable bastards, but I must respect other people's opinions, even when they're wrong.
One detail that I didn't know before is how far the limit to which you can artificially tweak plants with no oversight whatsoever-- apparently, you can generate new organisms by irradiating them with gamma- or x-rays, or expose them to mutagenic chemicals to get the specific mutation you want (there are a number of behaviours you can't get this way, but play along for now), in addition to unknown others that may be neutral, or possibly harmful, and sell the stuff tomorrow. You can even sell them as organic foods, if you are an unethical bastard. But if you were to splice in one specific gene that generated the precise protein you wanted (and this is do-able; the hard part is knowing whether or not that protein will work the way you want it to), with every other gene in the plant being otherwise normal, you might be lucky to get it on the market within three years. So, the one that has completely unknown properties we can sell, but the one with known properties has to pass a complex array of tests and certifications that vary depending on which of the FDA, USDA, and/or EPA decide your crop falls under their jurisdiction. Yeah, that makes sense.
Allergies are certainly still a problem-- we still don't know everything about how they work, and why, but we are learning. Some research is going on now to reduce the effects of allergens, as well as to understand more about how they work, and more importantly, how they don't. So it's definitely still important, I think to let people know if their foods contain genes from commonly allergenic plants or animals. Even so, GMOs are a net win, I think.
The book covers a large number of other topics, including biodiversity, food safety concerns, the real meaning of sustainable agriculture and more that I don't have the room (or right now, the energy) to discuss. At the end of the day, though, my conclusion is that organic farming, while it feels good to be kind to Mother Earth and all, is harming her more than it helps, by requiring more land to support it than mainstream agricultural processes, and also by giving its consumers (wittingly or no) the impression that what they're eating is worth paying more for. At some point, and we've already hit this point in many third-world countries right now, we're going to have to realize that we either start eating GMOs, we start killing off even more wildlife, or we stop eating at all. Of the three options, well, I like eating, and I like birds. So pass the Roundup-ready corn, and don't forget to grill it with artificially-generated canola oil!
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
A little hypocrisy is a healthy thing
I hate to admit it, but "One in a Million" is a great rock and roll song. It's also racist, xenophobic, and fairly nasty. I've been struggling to reconcile this, but I've come to the ultimate conclusion that I can't. It's a great song, and it's a nasty, disgusting one at the same time. Sometimes consistency must sacrifice truth to remain intact, and given the choice, I'll ditch consistency in favour of truth.
I'm sick and tired of idealogues who, having nothing concrete to say against their opponents' arguments, attack them on the basis of hypocrisy, as if that were tantamount to proving them wrong. It's the worst sort of ad-hominem attack, if you ask me-- it in effect concedes the argument, or at best avoids it in favour of pointing out how bad the person making it is.
And the worst is that the accuser isn't even doing that, oh no! Why, that would be absolutist, and wrong. It is, after all, just as morally valid to mutilate women's genitalia as it is to educate women and raise them to be independent, critical thinkers. No, we're just pointing out how our opponent is being inconsistent.
- R.W. Emerson
- W. Whitman
- My Favourite Misquote of Emerson
I'm sick and tired of idealogues who, having nothing concrete to say against their opponents' arguments, attack them on the basis of hypocrisy, as if that were tantamount to proving them wrong. It's the worst sort of ad-hominem attack, if you ask me-- it in effect concedes the argument, or at best avoids it in favour of pointing out how bad the person making it is.
And the worst is that the accuser isn't even doing that, oh no! Why, that would be absolutist, and wrong. It is, after all, just as morally valid to mutilate women's genitalia as it is to educate women and raise them to be independent, critical thinkers. No, we're just pointing out how our opponent is being inconsistent.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by
little statesmen and philosophers and divines.
- R.W. Emerson
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes
- W. Whitman
Little minds are consistent amongst foolish hobgoblins
- My Favourite Misquote of Emerson
Things I Wish I Could Believe
Don't ask what you are not doing,
Because your voice cannot command;
You see, in time we will move mountains,
And it will come
Through your hands.
John Hiatt, "Through Your Hands", Hiatt Comes Alive at Budokan
Monday, April 04, 2005
Old Calendars
There's something melancholy about throwing out an old calendar. While it does make room for new calendars, and the fun quotes from Get Fuzzy and all, throwing out an old calendar is a clear and definite step that acknowledges that the old year is gone. All those plans, hopes, and dreams for that year are gone-- you'll never get the chance to climb Pikes' Peak in 2004. Maybe 2005 is your year, maybe '06, but 2004 is shot. You blew that chance, bucko.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Government and Health
I've been waffling for quite a while on the idea of whether or not government has a place in an individual's health. On the one hand is the free market, which I'm on balance in favor of. On the other, there's the simple fact that we currently subsidize, either directly or via tax breaks, the emergency care of indigents to the tune of millions, if not billions, of dollars each year, money which could probably help more people if applied preventively.
Then I read this article by Frank Furedi. Not knowing anything about him (as of this writing, I haven't even visited his site), I found that his essay echoed, sometimes eerily, some incohate feelings I've had for years now, and not known quite how to put into words.
His basic point (and I encourage you to read the article, because I cannot do it justice here) is that Western societies have become medicalized; that is, they have turned problems which were formerly inherent to the human condition into medical maladies. This has several interesting consequences, according to Furedi, but the one that caught my attention the most is this:
Furedi overstates his case a bit when he equates social phobia with shyness, but he has an interesting point: when we all have some illness, be it cancer, addiction (and therein lies a whole other can of worms), loneliness, or even not having had those diseases ourselves, but having to live through someone else's illness (friends, family members, et. al), when we in fact use those illnesses as a lens through which to view our lives and our experiences, what's the value in being healthy? When 'wellness' is not viewed as a default, but a condition to which we can only hope to aspire, how can we ever be healthy?
Consider our fundamentally marketing-oriented society: unless we are ill, how can we be sold products to make us well? Unless we are deficient, how can we be sold products to make us whole? I'm not condemming capitalism-- far from it! I think it has done wonders for our physical comforts. But when we change our focus from what we need to live to how we should live, we first must consider who we are. And society, it seems, is telling us we are bad, we are broken, we are unclean.
(Note to self: tie this in with a planned review of Donaldson's Thomas Covenant books)
To bring this entry full-circle, until we can focus our lives and ourselves towards health, and not illness (and, sadly, a direct approach only confirms the supremacy of illness; this is a very hard problem), I don't think a direct government health policy makes much sense. After all, if we're all sick all the time, how can government-sponsored health care be anything but a spiralling balloon of ever-increasing expenditures?
Then I read this article by Frank Furedi. Not knowing anything about him (as of this writing, I haven't even visited his site), I found that his essay echoed, sometimes eerily, some incohate feelings I've had for years now, and not known quite how to put into words.
His basic point (and I encourage you to read the article, because I cannot do it justice here) is that Western societies have become medicalized; that is, they have turned problems which were formerly inherent to the human condition into medical maladies. This has several interesting consequences, according to Furedi, but the one that caught my attention the most is this:
We are not simply making a virtue out of a necessity; rather we are consciously valuing illness. From a theoretical standpoint, we might view illness as the first order concept, and wellness as the second order concept. Wellness is subordinate, methodologically, to the state of being ill.
Furedi overstates his case a bit when he equates social phobia with shyness, but he has an interesting point: when we all have some illness, be it cancer, addiction (and therein lies a whole other can of worms), loneliness, or even not having had those diseases ourselves, but having to live through someone else's illness (friends, family members, et. al), when we in fact use those illnesses as a lens through which to view our lives and our experiences, what's the value in being healthy? When 'wellness' is not viewed as a default, but a condition to which we can only hope to aspire, how can we ever be healthy?
Consider our fundamentally marketing-oriented society: unless we are ill, how can we be sold products to make us well? Unless we are deficient, how can we be sold products to make us whole? I'm not condemming capitalism-- far from it! I think it has done wonders for our physical comforts. But when we change our focus from what we need to live to how we should live, we first must consider who we are. And society, it seems, is telling us we are bad, we are broken, we are unclean.
(Note to self: tie this in with a planned review of Donaldson's Thomas Covenant books)
To bring this entry full-circle, until we can focus our lives and ourselves towards health, and not illness (and, sadly, a direct approach only confirms the supremacy of illness; this is a very hard problem), I don't think a direct government health policy makes much sense. After all, if we're all sick all the time, how can government-sponsored health care be anything but a spiralling balloon of ever-increasing expenditures?
Another Sad Internet Experience
I just saw an ad for a dating service that prclaims proudly, "We screen for felons and married people". I can't decide if this is a great or a pathetically sad day for the Internet.
Monday, March 07, 2005
The End is Nigh
Rediscovering Books
You know, I haven't really read in a while. Oh sure, I'll go to bed with anything, as long as it has printed words on it, and I can't manage to sit still for longer than five minutes without at least a cereal box to keep me company, but there's a difference between that and really reading, sitting down with a good book and getting your teeth into it.
Enter: Discover Card. Thanks to the fact that I was going to buy stuff anyway, I ended up with about $160 in Cashback Bonus awards, and I spent almost all of it on books (except for $40, which went to help buy me a Dremel Tool).
You see, to save money, I'd been checking out library books for the past year or two, so I guess I'd forgotten what it was like to have new books that were mine, all mine! Muhahahah! It's pretty nice having a stack of five or six brand-new books that are brand-new, just lying there, waiting to be read, full of promise, full of imagination, full of stories yet untold, each of them a time machine where the start of the book is always now, and the actors within, be they real or imagined, are waiting, frozen, upon the stage for your pleasure.
Yaay, books!
Enter: Discover Card. Thanks to the fact that I was going to buy stuff anyway, I ended up with about $160 in Cashback Bonus awards, and I spent almost all of it on books (except for $40, which went to help buy me a Dremel Tool).
You see, to save money, I'd been checking out library books for the past year or two, so I guess I'd forgotten what it was like to have new books that were mine, all mine! Muhahahah! It's pretty nice having a stack of five or six brand-new books that are brand-new, just lying there, waiting to be read, full of promise, full of imagination, full of stories yet untold, each of them a time machine where the start of the book is always now, and the actors within, be they real or imagined, are waiting, frozen, upon the stage for your pleasure.
Yaay, books!
Keep Your Day Job, Honey
Yes, another book review!
Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony Bourdain, is a book that you've probably already read, if you're at all into food. So sue me, I'm slow. It's an entertaining, if somewhat rambling, look at the ups and downs of the life of a chef, and how he got that way.
It's a testament, I guess, to Bourdain's claim that the restaurant world is a world of rejects, misfists, thieves, junkies and losers that he was able to survive as long as he did while doing heroin, cocaine, and probably more grass than I've ever mowed. If you've ever seen my lawn, you will not be surprised at this. Admittedly, it wasn't until he cleaned up that his career finally took off, but I don't know many other industries where you could function at all doing that much dope for that long. Maybe I'm just naive.
There is a chapter in there that reads as if his editor said, "Goddamit, you're a chef, writing a book, if you're not going to give us recipes, at least put in some cooking tips already!" that actually has a few useful tips (use a good knife, shallots, maybe some demi-glace and for chrissakes roast your own garlic-- it's not hard, show some respect already), but most of it is biography. Fortunately for you, it's by turns, funny, brash, interesting, and astonishing (mostly astonishing that he got away with that).
Author: Anthony Bourdain
Title: Kitchen Confidential
ISBN: 0060934913
Publisher: Ecco
Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony Bourdain, is a book that you've probably already read, if you're at all into food. So sue me, I'm slow. It's an entertaining, if somewhat rambling, look at the ups and downs of the life of a chef, and how he got that way.
It's a testament, I guess, to Bourdain's claim that the restaurant world is a world of rejects, misfists, thieves, junkies and losers that he was able to survive as long as he did while doing heroin, cocaine, and probably more grass than I've ever mowed. If you've ever seen my lawn, you will not be surprised at this. Admittedly, it wasn't until he cleaned up that his career finally took off, but I don't know many other industries where you could function at all doing that much dope for that long. Maybe I'm just naive.
There is a chapter in there that reads as if his editor said, "Goddamit, you're a chef, writing a book, if you're not going to give us recipes, at least put in some cooking tips already!" that actually has a few useful tips (use a good knife, shallots, maybe some demi-glace and for chrissakes roast your own garlic-- it's not hard, show some respect already), but most of it is biography. Fortunately for you, it's by turns, funny, brash, interesting, and astonishing (mostly astonishing that he got away with that).
Details
Author: Anthony Bourdain
Title: Kitchen Confidential
ISBN: 0060934913
Publisher: Ecco
Friday, March 04, 2005
God help me
I'm so ashamed. I was just now searching for A/V components, and I typed "Pioneer Eleet".
It's a cry for help, I know it.
It's a cry for help, I know it.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Amelie
Okay, I give up. Go ahead and grab the pitchforks and the torches, because you've got me. I'm a heretic. I didn't really like Amelie all that much. I don't blame it for not being deep or meaningful-- it wasn't that sort of film, and it's not fair to expect anything like that of it. And maybe no movie could have lived up to the hype it generated. It's just that for a lighthearted, silly comedy, it didn't seem all that terribly lighthearted or silly.
Amelie herself seems more like a creature to be pitied than one to be admired. Growing up in an essentially loveless household, her life doesn't seem so much grown inward, as most of Roald Dahl's young heroes and heroines do, as stunted altogether. She has managed to become a reasonably cheerful adult, but her life seems rather lonely. Instead of going out with friends or seeing a movie or perhaps a show, she spies on the old painter across the alley from her. Her love interest (he's not really a boyfriend for any appreciable amount of screen time) is, frankly, more autistic than artistic. Her job is filled with unpleasant people-- occasionally a few that aren't so bad, but those seem more the exception than the rule. All in all, she seems to spend about as much time playing tricks on her obnoxious neighbourhood grocer than in her quest to do nice things for people.
The message of the movie, to me, seemed to be, "Come to terms with your limitations and find what little happiness you can in there, because life will suck all the same no matter what you do. Oh, and don't try to expand past your limitations, because you can't. Get used to this life, it's all you get."
I fully appreciate that I am a Philistine, a Neo-Luddite, and a Bad Person(™). I just can't enjoy this film. It's not that I don't like European, or even French, cinema. City of the Lost Children is one of my favourite movies, as is Run Lola Run. Though there does seem to be a slightly darker current of existential despair and resignation in most European movies-- even the comedies are darker-- than in most American films. This is okay for most movies, because, frankly, most movies could use a slight dash of anti-pollyanna-ism. But for this movie, which appeared to want to hard to be light and fluffy, it just weighed it down, rather than grounding it.
Amelie herself seems more like a creature to be pitied than one to be admired. Growing up in an essentially loveless household, her life doesn't seem so much grown inward, as most of Roald Dahl's young heroes and heroines do, as stunted altogether. She has managed to become a reasonably cheerful adult, but her life seems rather lonely. Instead of going out with friends or seeing a movie or perhaps a show, she spies on the old painter across the alley from her. Her love interest (he's not really a boyfriend for any appreciable amount of screen time) is, frankly, more autistic than artistic. Her job is filled with unpleasant people-- occasionally a few that aren't so bad, but those seem more the exception than the rule. All in all, she seems to spend about as much time playing tricks on her obnoxious neighbourhood grocer than in her quest to do nice things for people.
The message of the movie, to me, seemed to be, "Come to terms with your limitations and find what little happiness you can in there, because life will suck all the same no matter what you do. Oh, and don't try to expand past your limitations, because you can't. Get used to this life, it's all you get."
I fully appreciate that I am a Philistine, a Neo-Luddite, and a Bad Person(™). I just can't enjoy this film. It's not that I don't like European, or even French, cinema. City of the Lost Children is one of my favourite movies, as is Run Lola Run. Though there does seem to be a slightly darker current of existential despair and resignation in most European movies-- even the comedies are darker-- than in most American films. This is okay for most movies, because, frankly, most movies could use a slight dash of anti-pollyanna-ism. But for this movie, which appeared to want to hard to be light and fluffy, it just weighed it down, rather than grounding it.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Respect in Radio
I know I'm getting older. One reason? I spend more time listening to AM radio these days than FM. I'm not even sure why; it's not like they aren't making any good music these days or anything. I just find myself wanting to listen to talk more than music. The problem is, most of it infuriates me. Especially on the political shows (most of 'em), the host has little respect for opposing viewpoints-- the best you can hope for these days seems to be a host who will at least let callers with different viewpoints get their opinions out (a few hosts even help their less coherent opponents, though I doubt the callers would view it that way).
The goal is always to prove one's own position, and demolish one's opponents'. Most radio personalities will admit this, if asked-- they resort to the theory of the Hegelian Dialectic. "Our job is to present our point of view," they might say. "It's our opponents' jobs to present theirs." And that's true enough, as far as it goes. The problem is, it doesn't always work that way. Sometimes both "right" and "left" are wrong, and the end result is that the truth gets sacrified for the sake of making a point. Most often, I hope, this isn't a conscious decision, but that doesn't make it any better.
These shows, both radio and tv, are less interested in uncovering the truth, as subjective and difficult as that concept is, and more in theater. Jon Stewart made that point, ironically, in a very dramatic way when he appeared on Crossfire, but nothing has really changed.
I don't just blame the hosts here-- most of the listeners are equally unwilling to listen to dissenting or contrarian viewpoints. A lady called up a local Denver show a few weeks ago insisting that the entire Iraq war was a front so that the US Army could test biological weapons, and used as her proof the number of babies born with birth defects after the war. Never mind that in most wars, you want to kill the opposing army, not cause them to have miscarriages, or that she didn't actually have any support (or even any idea of a source) for her claim of birth defects and miscarriages, she believed it, and wasn't going to be dissuaded by the host's surprisingly patient explanation of the relative uselessness of such a weapon.
This was really all meant to be a setup for me to whine about the passing of my favourite radio show on KHOW a month or two ago. Redmond and Newman was a show with a vaguely left-leaning guy (Scott Redmond) and a fairly right-leaning guy (Bob Newman). The difference between them and most shows is that they were friends, or at least faked it extremely well on the radio. There was a distinction on that show between things which were facts (the number of troops in Iraq, how much money was spent on the Whitewater investigation), and which weren't (should we be in Iraq, was Whitewater worthwhile). They disagreed on a number of topics, but they nearly always managed to convey that they respected the other person's opinion, and that it was a reasonable opinion to hold. The other nice thing about the show was that each of them would restrain their counterpart from going too overboard in their opinions, which kept the tone of the show a bit higher than most of talk radio.
Contrast that with their replacements, Dan Caplis and Craig Silverman. Both of those guys are lawyers, and argue their points like it. They ignore or gloss over points which counter their arguments, and generally act as if their counterpart's opinion is stupid or indefensible, instead of examining their own position and deciding that it doesn't hold up in some respect or other. Plus, and I know it's shallow of me, but listening to Craig Silverman is like listening to fingernails scraping on a blackboard. Caplis' voice is more palatable to the ear, but alas, his attitude isn't.
And the sad part is that Bob Newman now has his own show, and without Scott Redmond to ameliorate his more aggresive tendencies, he comes across as a great deal more hardcore right-wing than he used to, and I regret that, because the two of them really had something special and unusal going on on the radio, and now we won't get to hear it anymore. Sic transit gloria mundi and all that, I suppose-- but I don't have to like it.
The goal is always to prove one's own position, and demolish one's opponents'. Most radio personalities will admit this, if asked-- they resort to the theory of the Hegelian Dialectic. "Our job is to present our point of view," they might say. "It's our opponents' jobs to present theirs." And that's true enough, as far as it goes. The problem is, it doesn't always work that way. Sometimes both "right" and "left" are wrong, and the end result is that the truth gets sacrified for the sake of making a point. Most often, I hope, this isn't a conscious decision, but that doesn't make it any better.
These shows, both radio and tv, are less interested in uncovering the truth, as subjective and difficult as that concept is, and more in theater. Jon Stewart made that point, ironically, in a very dramatic way when he appeared on Crossfire, but nothing has really changed.
I don't just blame the hosts here-- most of the listeners are equally unwilling to listen to dissenting or contrarian viewpoints. A lady called up a local Denver show a few weeks ago insisting that the entire Iraq war was a front so that the US Army could test biological weapons, and used as her proof the number of babies born with birth defects after the war. Never mind that in most wars, you want to kill the opposing army, not cause them to have miscarriages, or that she didn't actually have any support (or even any idea of a source) for her claim of birth defects and miscarriages, she believed it, and wasn't going to be dissuaded by the host's surprisingly patient explanation of the relative uselessness of such a weapon.
This was really all meant to be a setup for me to whine about the passing of my favourite radio show on KHOW a month or two ago. Redmond and Newman was a show with a vaguely left-leaning guy (Scott Redmond) and a fairly right-leaning guy (Bob Newman). The difference between them and most shows is that they were friends, or at least faked it extremely well on the radio. There was a distinction on that show between things which were facts (the number of troops in Iraq, how much money was spent on the Whitewater investigation), and which weren't (should we be in Iraq, was Whitewater worthwhile). They disagreed on a number of topics, but they nearly always managed to convey that they respected the other person's opinion, and that it was a reasonable opinion to hold. The other nice thing about the show was that each of them would restrain their counterpart from going too overboard in their opinions, which kept the tone of the show a bit higher than most of talk radio.
Contrast that with their replacements, Dan Caplis and Craig Silverman. Both of those guys are lawyers, and argue their points like it. They ignore or gloss over points which counter their arguments, and generally act as if their counterpart's opinion is stupid or indefensible, instead of examining their own position and deciding that it doesn't hold up in some respect or other. Plus, and I know it's shallow of me, but listening to Craig Silverman is like listening to fingernails scraping on a blackboard. Caplis' voice is more palatable to the ear, but alas, his attitude isn't.
And the sad part is that Bob Newman now has his own show, and without Scott Redmond to ameliorate his more aggresive tendencies, he comes across as a great deal more hardcore right-wing than he used to, and I regret that, because the two of them really had something special and unusal going on on the radio, and now we won't get to hear it anymore. Sic transit gloria mundi and all that, I suppose-- but I don't have to like it.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Partisanship in America
I know it's trendy to decry partisanship these days; heck, I've even done so myself. But hey, I figure, why not flog a dead horse while it's down, and mix other metaphors while I'm at it?
Andrew Sullivan has a nice piece today about partisan blogging, and while I'd love to disagree, about all I can come up with is a weak, "So, what did you expect, exactly?"
Andrew points out that one of the benefits of blogging (I hereby vow to never use the word "blogosphere" unless a gun is held to my head, Or I change my mind.) is that individual voices can be more easily heard. This is so true, and is one of the reasons I love the Internet, because on the 'net, everybody is a publisher (though some companies seem to want us to forget this. What he doesn't seem to account for is that:
1. Nobody has to listen
2. Most individuals aren't terribly individual
The fact is, I can go to nearly any bar in El Paso county, Colorado and get Rush Limbaugh's opinion from nearly anyone on any world issue I care to name. Or maybe Michael Savage's; it would depend on the bar. But if I try to engage those people in conversation as to why they believe it, they tend to have the same rationales as their talk-show heroes, and are about as willing to listen to dissenting evidence.
Not that the Left is any better-- that's one thing I really noticed after moving to a much more liberal area of Colorado. They're just as shallow as their right-wing counterparts, just with Michael Moore and Al Franken instead of Limbaugh and Savage. Just try explaining to a random selection of people up here that we are doing good things in Iraq, and that the entire populace is not, in fact, lining up to kill themselves just to get at us. Heck, try pointing out that the "insurgents" (read: "terrorists") are targeting Iraqis more than they are us these days, and what that implies about their goals, vis-a-vis "liberation".
Or try pointing out to people in Colorado Springs that we badly bungled the postwar occupation, and that Rumsfeld should be fired for his criminally negligent understaffing of the occupation. You'll always get some people on all sides willing to listen to reason, and debate honestly and forthrightly on any subject, but the vast majority of people-- and I include myself in this, right up front-- are less interested in arriving at the truth, and more at winning, whatever that may mean to them. Why this should be any less true on blogs than in real life, I can't imagine.
Andrew Sullivan has a nice piece today about partisan blogging, and while I'd love to disagree, about all I can come up with is a weak, "So, what did you expect, exactly?"
Andrew points out that one of the benefits of blogging (I hereby vow to never use the word "blogosphere" unless a gun is held to my head, Or I change my mind.) is that individual voices can be more easily heard. This is so true, and is one of the reasons I love the Internet, because on the 'net, everybody is a publisher (though some companies seem to want us to forget this. What he doesn't seem to account for is that:
1. Nobody has to listen
2. Most individuals aren't terribly individual
The fact is, I can go to nearly any bar in El Paso county, Colorado and get Rush Limbaugh's opinion from nearly anyone on any world issue I care to name. Or maybe Michael Savage's; it would depend on the bar. But if I try to engage those people in conversation as to why they believe it, they tend to have the same rationales as their talk-show heroes, and are about as willing to listen to dissenting evidence.
Not that the Left is any better-- that's one thing I really noticed after moving to a much more liberal area of Colorado. They're just as shallow as their right-wing counterparts, just with Michael Moore and Al Franken instead of Limbaugh and Savage. Just try explaining to a random selection of people up here that we are doing good things in Iraq, and that the entire populace is not, in fact, lining up to kill themselves just to get at us. Heck, try pointing out that the "insurgents" (read: "terrorists") are targeting Iraqis more than they are us these days, and what that implies about their goals, vis-a-vis "liberation".
Or try pointing out to people in Colorado Springs that we badly bungled the postwar occupation, and that Rumsfeld should be fired for his criminally negligent understaffing of the occupation. You'll always get some people on all sides willing to listen to reason, and debate honestly and forthrightly on any subject, but the vast majority of people-- and I include myself in this, right up front-- are less interested in arriving at the truth, and more at winning, whatever that may mean to them. Why this should be any less true on blogs than in real life, I can't imagine.
A Somewhat Unfortunate Movie
Last week, I went to see the A Series of Unfortunate Events movie. Having written about it earlier, I owe both my readers at least a brief summary of my impressions. The executive summary: not as good as I'd hoped, but better than I feared.
The story follows the Baudelaire orphans as they discover their parents have died, and are shuttled off to a series of different (but all, sadly, incompetent) guardians. The children learn to trust each other and work together, but also learn that sometimes, bad things happen to good people. There is no happy-ever-after ending, and the characters endure silly and heart-wrenching adventures along the way.
Nothing was particularly bad-- the characters were, on the whole, pretty good (more on that below), and the story was not bad, just too cartoony for my taste. There were some truly fantastic moments such as where Klaus Baudelaire (Liam Aiken) expresses his anger at his parents for dying-- something I don't recall having seen in a children's movie before, and a feeling that anybody who's ever lost someone they cared deeply about knows all too well. The stark honesty of that moment, and the raw feeling of Violet's (Emily Browning) emotional discovery in the wreckage of their family home at the end of the movie redeem it from the "kiddie movie" status it might have otherwise enjoyed (and deserved).
Jim Carrey's Count Olaf was overblown and overdramatic, but his character is a bad actor, so it fits, if you think about it. The problem is that you do have to think about it, which kinda defeats the purpose. But then again, were he not in the film, it quite possibly would not have been made. Thankfully, most of the time his histrionics are appropriate. He was, however, not the star. The stars were the Hoffman twins, who played the baby Sunny, Liam Aiken, who played Klaus, and especially Emily Browning, who is already an actress to look out for, and will hopefully go on to even better things. Jude Law's narration (as the "author", Lemony Snicket) was spot-on.
Is this, like, the best movie EVAR? No. Do I hate myself for watching it? Thankfully, no. But I kinda wish I'd waited until it came out on DVD.
The story follows the Baudelaire orphans as they discover their parents have died, and are shuttled off to a series of different (but all, sadly, incompetent) guardians. The children learn to trust each other and work together, but also learn that sometimes, bad things happen to good people. There is no happy-ever-after ending, and the characters endure silly and heart-wrenching adventures along the way.
Nothing was particularly bad-- the characters were, on the whole, pretty good (more on that below), and the story was not bad, just too cartoony for my taste. There were some truly fantastic moments such as where Klaus Baudelaire (Liam Aiken) expresses his anger at his parents for dying-- something I don't recall having seen in a children's movie before, and a feeling that anybody who's ever lost someone they cared deeply about knows all too well. The stark honesty of that moment, and the raw feeling of Violet's (Emily Browning) emotional discovery in the wreckage of their family home at the end of the movie redeem it from the "kiddie movie" status it might have otherwise enjoyed (and deserved).
Jim Carrey's Count Olaf was overblown and overdramatic, but his character is a bad actor, so it fits, if you think about it. The problem is that you do have to think about it, which kinda defeats the purpose. But then again, were he not in the film, it quite possibly would not have been made. Thankfully, most of the time his histrionics are appropriate. He was, however, not the star. The stars were the Hoffman twins, who played the baby Sunny, Liam Aiken, who played Klaus, and especially Emily Browning, who is already an actress to look out for, and will hopefully go on to even better things. Jude Law's narration (as the "author", Lemony Snicket) was spot-on.
Is this, like, the best movie EVAR? No. Do I hate myself for watching it? Thankfully, no. But I kinda wish I'd waited until it came out on DVD.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Battlestar Kickassica
I've just watched both the 2003 miniseries and the premiere of the new Battlestar Galactica miniseries, and I can not emphasize enough how incredibly good they are. Even as a wee lad of the '70s, the first series was just plain not that good. The characters were underdeveloped, at best, and the stories were lame. What saved the original Galactica was not so much any inherent qualities it posessed (save perhaps the visual effects, which were first-class for the time), but the possibilities it suggested. It was so almost-great, that the actors were able to barely carry off what could so easily have been pure drek.
This new series, on the other hand, excels in every category. It's so hard to pick a single element that singles out what makes this series great, but if I had to pick, I'd say it's the art direction. This show succeeds, in a way no tv series save Babylon 5 has, in creating a "used world", a world that feels not only real, but old. The ships, the uniforms, even the civilians, everything seems... ordinary. Fantastic, excellent, amazing, but it's all remarkably unremarkable.
The acting is similarly impressive-- Edward James Olmos' Commander Adama is more military and less avuncular than Lorne Greene. Greene's Adama was more presidential; Olmos' is a career military man that wasn't looking for any of this, and in fact wanted to leave the civilians behind so that he could retaliate for the Cylon attack. It's not that he didn't want to save them, but he was so focused on a military approach that he had to be talked into saving the human race. This was a lovely touch of realism.
Katee Sackhoff's Starbuck was the most surprising character. At first, I wasn't entirely sure about a female Starbuck, but she's sold me several times over-- I doubt she'll be Dirk Benedict's ladykiller (I suppose it's possible, but I think she may have a thing for Apollo), but she's at least as arrogant as Tom Cruise in Top Gun, and probably twice as good.
I could go on, but time constraints force me to move on to the cinematography. The show's documentary-style filming adds to the realism of the show, makes it seem more like a film crew happened to be stranded on the Galactica and are filming the struggle for humanity's survival for posterity. The camera is unsteady, but not shaky-- I'm sure it's a steadicam, but it gives the impression of a handheld camera, and adds strongly to the realism.
Finally, the stories. Unlike the original series, the new BSG respects the military aspect of the Galactica and her crew. The first Galactica was more like the Love Boat than a military vessel, crewed by soldiers fighting for the very survival of the human race. In fact, sometimes, it was easy to forget that we weren't watching a relatively well-done Lost In Space. These guys, on the other hand, are continually aware of that very thing-- the President even keeps a running tally of the number of humans left alive. So far, we haven't seen many civilians, but that's going to come up soon, and I have no doubt they'll be handled as well as the military has been.
I'm running long, so I'll try to continue and expand on this later. Bottom line: fantastic show. Watch it. (Then again, if you're reading this, you are most likely to have already seen it-- Hi, Sam!)
This new series, on the other hand, excels in every category. It's so hard to pick a single element that singles out what makes this series great, but if I had to pick, I'd say it's the art direction. This show succeeds, in a way no tv series save Babylon 5 has, in creating a "used world", a world that feels not only real, but old. The ships, the uniforms, even the civilians, everything seems... ordinary. Fantastic, excellent, amazing, but it's all remarkably unremarkable.
The acting is similarly impressive-- Edward James Olmos' Commander Adama is more military and less avuncular than Lorne Greene. Greene's Adama was more presidential; Olmos' is a career military man that wasn't looking for any of this, and in fact wanted to leave the civilians behind so that he could retaliate for the Cylon attack. It's not that he didn't want to save them, but he was so focused on a military approach that he had to be talked into saving the human race. This was a lovely touch of realism.
Katee Sackhoff's Starbuck was the most surprising character. At first, I wasn't entirely sure about a female Starbuck, but she's sold me several times over-- I doubt she'll be Dirk Benedict's ladykiller (I suppose it's possible, but I think she may have a thing for Apollo), but she's at least as arrogant as Tom Cruise in Top Gun, and probably twice as good.
I could go on, but time constraints force me to move on to the cinematography. The show's documentary-style filming adds to the realism of the show, makes it seem more like a film crew happened to be stranded on the Galactica and are filming the struggle for humanity's survival for posterity. The camera is unsteady, but not shaky-- I'm sure it's a steadicam, but it gives the impression of a handheld camera, and adds strongly to the realism.
Finally, the stories. Unlike the original series, the new BSG respects the military aspect of the Galactica and her crew. The first Galactica was more like the Love Boat than a military vessel, crewed by soldiers fighting for the very survival of the human race. In fact, sometimes, it was easy to forget that we weren't watching a relatively well-done Lost In Space. These guys, on the other hand, are continually aware of that very thing-- the President even keeps a running tally of the number of humans left alive. So far, we haven't seen many civilians, but that's going to come up soon, and I have no doubt they'll be handled as well as the military has been.
I'm running long, so I'll try to continue and expand on this later. Bottom line: fantastic show. Watch it. (Then again, if you're reading this, you are most likely to have already seen it-- Hi, Sam!)
Monday, December 27, 2004
Mazel Tov!
So, apparently somebody thinks I'm Jewish, which is a bit odd to me. I guess it's because my last name is Schwartz, and apparently all Schwartzes are Jewish, or at least we all look like that (I am probably the least stereotypically Jewish-looking person I know). Or maybe it's that my name is Schwartz, and I live in the suburbs. I don't know. All I know is that Ed Koch, of all people, invited me to join the Republican Jewish Coalition this past election season.
I must admit, I was tempted. I have been fascinated by all things Hebrew since, well, a long time. There's something deeply attractive to me, at a fundamental level, about Judaism. Maybe it's the traditions. Maybe it's the way Jews seem to combine fatalism with telling God off when He pisses them off. Maybe it's that wacky Jewish sense of humor, I don't know. My father was interested in Judaism, as well. He once said that if he hadn't been born Catholic, he'd probably have converted to Judaism, simply because he loved the historical traditions and culture. He may have also had a weakness for potato latkes, but we never discussed it.
But the RJC? I don't know. I hate to affiliate myself strongly with a political party-- though I really miss not registering Republican this year, so I could have voted against Marilyn Musgrave twice (not that it would have mattered much, but this woman really chaps my hide, as the kids today like to put it). If I were to join a party, it would be the They're All Bastards Party, and we'd get together every four years to heap invective and scorn (I love that phrase) upon the well-deserving heads of politicians of every political pursuasion. It would be a new, more political Algonquin Round Table, where we sit on chaise lounges, drinking highballs and whiskey sours, and other such intellectual drinks, and discourse upon the sorry state of the nation.
So, uh, you busy in '08?
I must admit, I was tempted. I have been fascinated by all things Hebrew since, well, a long time. There's something deeply attractive to me, at a fundamental level, about Judaism. Maybe it's the traditions. Maybe it's the way Jews seem to combine fatalism with telling God off when He pisses them off. Maybe it's that wacky Jewish sense of humor, I don't know. My father was interested in Judaism, as well. He once said that if he hadn't been born Catholic, he'd probably have converted to Judaism, simply because he loved the historical traditions and culture. He may have also had a weakness for potato latkes, but we never discussed it.
But the RJC? I don't know. I hate to affiliate myself strongly with a political party-- though I really miss not registering Republican this year, so I could have voted against Marilyn Musgrave twice (not that it would have mattered much, but this woman really chaps my hide, as the kids today like to put it). If I were to join a party, it would be the They're All Bastards Party, and we'd get together every four years to heap invective and scorn (I love that phrase) upon the well-deserving heads of politicians of every political pursuasion. It would be a new, more political Algonquin Round Table, where we sit on chaise lounges, drinking highballs and whiskey sours, and other such intellectual drinks, and discourse upon the sorry state of the nation.
So, uh, you busy in '08?
Monday, December 13, 2004
Christmas: Scourge or Minor Nuisance?
Once again, my friend Natalie has prompted this post. Her recent announcment of detente with the Christmas holiday got me thinking about my own Yuletide issues.
For the two of you that actually read this drivel I'm arrogant enough to call a blog, my father died on Christmas day in 1987. As I was a whopping 13 years old at the time, you can imagine my feelings towards Christmas were, thenceforth, less than salubrious. About a year or two ago, I came to my own detente of sorts, though my reasoning is slightly different: I realized that my being angry and bitter about Christmas wasn't doing me any good, and was making the people around me at least marginally less happy than they would be otherwise.
I have retained at least one issue, howeve, upon which I refuse to compromise: 90+% of all Christmas music is drivel, at best. The only Christmas music I will countenance is unconventional, or unconventionally arranged-- Dolly Parton doing bluegrass-style carols is okay, Englebert Humperdinck doing anything, really, is right out. The only exceptions I will make are for Tony Bennet or Frank Sinatra. Okay, maybe Mel Torme, but that's where I draw the line.
As far as the overcommercialization, well, that's an easy thing to get self-righteous about, but ultimately, all you end up doing is upsetting your friends and family; the message (if it was ever really about the message, but that's another rant) gets lost, and you just look like a jerk. But there are options-- as much as possible, this year, I'm trying to give experiences, not physical gifts. I can't do it for everyone, but most of the people in my life have too many things already-- what they could use more than anything is (say) a whitewater rafting trip, not another nonstick cookware set.
Besides, I think it's easier to personalize an experience than it is to figure out what to get my brother this year. I just think of what he and his family enjoy most, and most of the time it's something like a sailing trip, or a fun time with the grandparents. When lying on your deathbed, will you remember the Transformer you got for Christmas in 1986[0], or the time you went trekking around Japan on your own for two weeks?
On a side note, I must have asick sixth sense for gifts, or something. At least in my family, it seems that whenever I get disgusted with the whole shopping process and just say "The heck with it, I'll give them this piece of crap", it turns out that's EXACTLY what the recipient wanted-- sometimes whether they knew it or not. (I got my brother a nutmeg grinder, of all things, for Christmas a few years back, and he still tells me how much he loves it!) I'm afraid this year, my ideas are going to get me in even more trouble that way-- I don't know how I'm going to follow this up next year.
[0] Yes I do, actually. Omega Supreme, TYVM. And it rocked beyond belief.
For the two of you that actually read this drivel I'm arrogant enough to call a blog, my father died on Christmas day in 1987. As I was a whopping 13 years old at the time, you can imagine my feelings towards Christmas were, thenceforth, less than salubrious. About a year or two ago, I came to my own detente of sorts, though my reasoning is slightly different: I realized that my being angry and bitter about Christmas wasn't doing me any good, and was making the people around me at least marginally less happy than they would be otherwise.
I have retained at least one issue, howeve, upon which I refuse to compromise: 90+% of all Christmas music is drivel, at best. The only Christmas music I will countenance is unconventional, or unconventionally arranged-- Dolly Parton doing bluegrass-style carols is okay, Englebert Humperdinck doing anything, really, is right out. The only exceptions I will make are for Tony Bennet or Frank Sinatra. Okay, maybe Mel Torme, but that's where I draw the line.
As far as the overcommercialization, well, that's an easy thing to get self-righteous about, but ultimately, all you end up doing is upsetting your friends and family; the message (if it was ever really about the message, but that's another rant) gets lost, and you just look like a jerk. But there are options-- as much as possible, this year, I'm trying to give experiences, not physical gifts. I can't do it for everyone, but most of the people in my life have too many things already-- what they could use more than anything is (say) a whitewater rafting trip, not another nonstick cookware set.
Besides, I think it's easier to personalize an experience than it is to figure out what to get my brother this year. I just think of what he and his family enjoy most, and most of the time it's something like a sailing trip, or a fun time with the grandparents. When lying on your deathbed, will you remember the Transformer you got for Christmas in 1986[0], or the time you went trekking around Japan on your own for two weeks?
On a side note, I must have a
[0] Yes I do, actually. Omega Supreme, TYVM. And it rocked beyond belief.
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