Note: Originally written for Dutchwest. And maybe the shortest thing ever posted here. Nevertheless, enjoy. Ill have something longer soon.
Border Patrol
I’ve been hearing a lot recently about the immigrant debate going in this country. Illegal immigrants are fighting for their rights while other people are fighting to get them out of our country. These people claim that the immigrants are stealing our jobs, using up our resources, and threatening our very way of life. And I must say I agree with them 100 percent. Like them, I think that a wall should be built along our border.
Because we must find a way to keep out all these fucking Canadians.
Sure they do jobs Americas don’t want to do, like play hockey, watch Blue Jays games and be Mike Myers. And sure some of them are fine people. But most of them are dirty, lazy Canucks
Not that this is a racial thing.
Because it isn’t…
Not in the least bit.
It’s just that these people aren’t true Americans. I mean what’s with that “eh” crap? If you want to live in America learn how to speak proper English already! And if it wasn’t bad enough that their music was taking over our airwaves (thanks Celine and Alanis), now I come to find out that they have their own version of The National Anthem. It’s called “Oh, Canada”. “Oh, Get Out Of My Country” is more like it!
And its not just Canadians that bother me either. It’s all immigrants of Anglo-Saxon heritage. The Welsh and the Australians are coming over here every day on their homemade rafts or as stowaways on cargo ships. And they’re all alike. They look the same, they talk the same, but yet when you call some guy “Canadian” he has to correct you and say, “actually I’m British”. Who cares? I mean like it really matters. What’s the difference anyway? They’re all fucking “sticky backs” in my eyes. (So named cuz of, you know, all the maple syrup in Canada.)
So listen up Canucks. There are three and only three things you’re good for:
- your incredibly sexy entertainers like Rachel McAdams, Neve Campbell, and John Candy
- your food and drink which consist of syrup, Labatt Blue, and apparently something called fiddleheads
- and your vaguely American seeming cities where underage Americans can go party, get drunk, and obtain illegal goods and services.
If you notice, nowhere on that list was “populate Vermont”. So get your dirty, syrupy, hockey-loving asses out of my country right now and don’t ever come back. Or as you would say in Canada, “get your dirty syrupy, hockey-loving asses out of my country right now and don’t ever come back, eh?”
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) HBO on Demand
2.) Lucky Louie
3.) British music magazines
3 & 1/2.) Astoria Park
Thought of the Week:
I know it might be called myspace, but somehow I dont feel a very strong sense of ownership about it.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Stained Concrete
Hey, its an update! But I didnt actually write this one. But you should still be excited. Because its actually better than the drivel I churn out. Now, Im not going to make a habit out of posting other peoples stuff here, so dont send me the essay you wrote about your feelings on life or the sate of the world. Because I think we all know that I dont care. But, that being said, I wanted to post something this week that my good friend Lauren Morelli wrote awhile back for Vanity Fair's writing contest. The topic was something to the effect of "what's on the minds of America's youths". The results came out this week and her entry didnt win, probably because it was actually written by a member of America's youth (the three winners were all in their 30s. Yet another reason why you shouldnt let Graydon Carter judge writing.). Anyway, Ive had a copy of her essay on my hard drive foir a while and now that it wont be published by Vanity Fair I would hate to see her effort go for naught and her work go unread. And so I present it unto you. Enjoy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Stained Concrete
I had a panic attack this morning. I was on the subway, on my way to work, and it just happened. It started in my heart-- a twinge of disquiet-- and quickly spread towards my lungs and knees. No amount of deep breathing stopped the nausea from creeping up my neck. I began contemplating the reality of puking in a subway car, of being the person that my rush-hour companions would tell their husbands and friends about over dinner. “You won’t believe what happened on the subway this morning…” Or, perhaps worse, I will pass out onto the germ-ridden floor without anyone to protect me from the rush hour cattle call. I will be left, forgotten, trampled.
The ultimate miracle occurs. The car doors slam open and a voice of static sighs “66th Street- Lincoln Center.” The rush of victory floods my pores. I will make it to street level sans vomit!
This has become my public transportation ritual, this self-induced panicked frenzy. Every backpack carries a package of suspicion, each bump and delay in the ride speeds my pulse.
I had lived in New York City for exactly two weeks before two buildings came falling from the sky. I was eighteen-years-old, a legal adult who thought she was the pinnacle of maturity and was actually only a child. A banner was hung that read “We will never forget.” Four years later I still get chills every time the shadow of a plane covers me.
It was 1999 and I was sixteen. America watched in horror as two students killed twelve of their classmates and one teacher. Suddenly parents understood the magnitude of what their children endured everyday at school. We were so tortured, so abused by our peers, that we could be driven to murder. We were capable of hate. For teenagers across the country, alienation was no longer about the separatism that our parents’ generation had fought against. It was about money, clothes, and cliques. And you could die for choosing the wrong ones…or at least want to die. Parents clawed at the air, hoping to catch something, anything to blame. Music and videogames were offered as the obligatory sacrifice. Things are easier to accept if there’s a reason for it.
Perhaps we would be a different generation if we could turn our cheeks against the abhorrence at school and look outward instead, toward a common goal or promise held just out of reach. Instead though, I look out the window and face bombs and men being dragged behind trucks. I watch fellow Americans throw around hatred as if it were a favorite pastime. “Nigger.” “Faggot.” “Cunt.” These words are spat off tongues and left to pollute the air around my head. They fall like concrete onto the street and leave dark red stains that I will walk on tomorrow and the next day.
In our short lives we have already learned so much. We know that being with loved ones is more important to us than taking to the streets. We have taught ourselves to cling desperately to our families. We hold our friends close. And it’s not that we are selfish. It’s just that we honor every day as if it will be our last. Because you never know when a plane might land in a skyscraper. Or when a bomb will go off during your morning commute. Or if one of your classmates will bring a sawed-off shotgun to your 4th period class. In the 21st Century, you just never know.
We are not without hope. We celebrate individual triumphs instead of generational victories. We throw ourselves into SAT tests and advanced degrees with an all-encompassing ferociousness. And by god, we have succeeded. We play sports, pluck violins, speak five languages, and volunteer when we have time. We apply for jobs that will pay us less than a living wage but will make a difference to someone instead of making six-figures in corporate America. We work hard. We believe in ourselves.
What we don’t believe in is our immortality. We know first hand that you are no longer safe, not even in the great impervious land of America. We are vulnerable and tired of pretending otherwise. We know that no amount of protesting will stop a bomb stuffed with hate from exploding. And we are too smart to think that we will be the ones to stop a war, which doesn’t mean that we don’t have opinions about it.
The world that I grew up in doesn’t resemble the war-torn yet hope-infused environment of the 1960s. We are the reality generation. As a pre-teen, my mother forbade me from watching MTV. This, of course, goaded me into secret soirées in my father’s den where I could hide away with the VJs. It was during these stolen, sinful half-hour increments that I first met Julie, Kevin, Becky, Eric, Andre, Heather, and Norman. Known to some as the first cast of The Real World, I was lucky enough to count them as close, personal pretend friends. I was a decade old at the time and I could feel the immediate “longing-to-be-18” seep into my consciousness. If only I could dance like Julie and be self-important like Becky and get to flirt with Eric! The glamour! The fights! The unbearable reality of it all!
Now in its 16th season, the show continues to provide a much-needed escape for teenagers across the country. How far the distance is between The Real World and the real world, and how much we adore those thirty minutes that masquerade as real life. When it is all too much and we find ourselves becoming overwhelmed, we turn on MTV and wrap ourselves in the unreal Real World characters. We frolic in their perfect bodies and shocking behavior. We cavort with fake reality because real reality is just unbearable sometimes. We have found an unauthentic actuality, a method of escape from our actual hyper-reality. Why seek out the minimal war coverage when you can bask in the onslaught of celebrity news? Why listen to the violence outside when you can drown it out with videogame gunshots? Why should we deal with the pain when there is a constant morphine drip to soothe the sting?
I hadn’t heard about the bombings until I got to work. Reading the news, I could feel the blood fall through my body, spilling out through my palms and the bottoms of my feet. I felt weightless, open, quiet. I scoured the BBC website obsessively for the next few days, searching for answers, for a reason, just as the parents of America had six years before. And then I read the sentence that would irrevocably steal my youth. “This is our 9/11.” People shouted it: journalists, pedestrians, politicians. Anger filled the places in me that had felt so empty for days. How dare they? How dare they compare their loss to ours and assume to know what that day was for us? And then I realized it. The world was turning against itself, and I was at the front of the angry mob. My instinct had been to rank these horrific attacks—how dare I? Reality swept over me, as it never had before.
Please allow us our few indulgences. And understand that just because we are doing things differently, doing things our way, does not mean that we aren’t doing. Our generation is mourning the loss of a childhood. We lost our naiveté that day in September, so have patience with us. We do care. And we are worried. We aren’t indifferent. We aren’t lazy and self-absorbed. We are scared as hell. We’re just too caught up in our fear and panic attacks to mobilize right now. In the meantime, we will spend our evenings with friends and our weekends with family. We will take advantage of the daylight to work as hard as we are able and take pride in our effort. We will revel in every day. And we think you should too. It might do you some good.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Me again)
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The World Cup
2.) Being anti-text messaging
3.) Sam Adams
3 & 1/2.) "Baby Got Back" (cover) - Jonathan Coulton
Thought of the week:
"O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortness basely were too long"
-Big Willy
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Stained Concrete
I had a panic attack this morning. I was on the subway, on my way to work, and it just happened. It started in my heart-- a twinge of disquiet-- and quickly spread towards my lungs and knees. No amount of deep breathing stopped the nausea from creeping up my neck. I began contemplating the reality of puking in a subway car, of being the person that my rush-hour companions would tell their husbands and friends about over dinner. “You won’t believe what happened on the subway this morning…” Or, perhaps worse, I will pass out onto the germ-ridden floor without anyone to protect me from the rush hour cattle call. I will be left, forgotten, trampled.
The ultimate miracle occurs. The car doors slam open and a voice of static sighs “66th Street- Lincoln Center.” The rush of victory floods my pores. I will make it to street level sans vomit!
This has become my public transportation ritual, this self-induced panicked frenzy. Every backpack carries a package of suspicion, each bump and delay in the ride speeds my pulse.
I had lived in New York City for exactly two weeks before two buildings came falling from the sky. I was eighteen-years-old, a legal adult who thought she was the pinnacle of maturity and was actually only a child. A banner was hung that read “We will never forget.” Four years later I still get chills every time the shadow of a plane covers me.
It was 1999 and I was sixteen. America watched in horror as two students killed twelve of their classmates and one teacher. Suddenly parents understood the magnitude of what their children endured everyday at school. We were so tortured, so abused by our peers, that we could be driven to murder. We were capable of hate. For teenagers across the country, alienation was no longer about the separatism that our parents’ generation had fought against. It was about money, clothes, and cliques. And you could die for choosing the wrong ones…or at least want to die. Parents clawed at the air, hoping to catch something, anything to blame. Music and videogames were offered as the obligatory sacrifice. Things are easier to accept if there’s a reason for it.
Perhaps we would be a different generation if we could turn our cheeks against the abhorrence at school and look outward instead, toward a common goal or promise held just out of reach. Instead though, I look out the window and face bombs and men being dragged behind trucks. I watch fellow Americans throw around hatred as if it were a favorite pastime. “Nigger.” “Faggot.” “Cunt.” These words are spat off tongues and left to pollute the air around my head. They fall like concrete onto the street and leave dark red stains that I will walk on tomorrow and the next day.
In our short lives we have already learned so much. We know that being with loved ones is more important to us than taking to the streets. We have taught ourselves to cling desperately to our families. We hold our friends close. And it’s not that we are selfish. It’s just that we honor every day as if it will be our last. Because you never know when a plane might land in a skyscraper. Or when a bomb will go off during your morning commute. Or if one of your classmates will bring a sawed-off shotgun to your 4th period class. In the 21st Century, you just never know.
We are not without hope. We celebrate individual triumphs instead of generational victories. We throw ourselves into SAT tests and advanced degrees with an all-encompassing ferociousness. And by god, we have succeeded. We play sports, pluck violins, speak five languages, and volunteer when we have time. We apply for jobs that will pay us less than a living wage but will make a difference to someone instead of making six-figures in corporate America. We work hard. We believe in ourselves.
What we don’t believe in is our immortality. We know first hand that you are no longer safe, not even in the great impervious land of America. We are vulnerable and tired of pretending otherwise. We know that no amount of protesting will stop a bomb stuffed with hate from exploding. And we are too smart to think that we will be the ones to stop a war, which doesn’t mean that we don’t have opinions about it.
The world that I grew up in doesn’t resemble the war-torn yet hope-infused environment of the 1960s. We are the reality generation. As a pre-teen, my mother forbade me from watching MTV. This, of course, goaded me into secret soirées in my father’s den where I could hide away with the VJs. It was during these stolen, sinful half-hour increments that I first met Julie, Kevin, Becky, Eric, Andre, Heather, and Norman. Known to some as the first cast of The Real World, I was lucky enough to count them as close, personal pretend friends. I was a decade old at the time and I could feel the immediate “longing-to-be-18” seep into my consciousness. If only I could dance like Julie and be self-important like Becky and get to flirt with Eric! The glamour! The fights! The unbearable reality of it all!
Now in its 16th season, the show continues to provide a much-needed escape for teenagers across the country. How far the distance is between The Real World and the real world, and how much we adore those thirty minutes that masquerade as real life. When it is all too much and we find ourselves becoming overwhelmed, we turn on MTV and wrap ourselves in the unreal Real World characters. We frolic in their perfect bodies and shocking behavior. We cavort with fake reality because real reality is just unbearable sometimes. We have found an unauthentic actuality, a method of escape from our actual hyper-reality. Why seek out the minimal war coverage when you can bask in the onslaught of celebrity news? Why listen to the violence outside when you can drown it out with videogame gunshots? Why should we deal with the pain when there is a constant morphine drip to soothe the sting?
I hadn’t heard about the bombings until I got to work. Reading the news, I could feel the blood fall through my body, spilling out through my palms and the bottoms of my feet. I felt weightless, open, quiet. I scoured the BBC website obsessively for the next few days, searching for answers, for a reason, just as the parents of America had six years before. And then I read the sentence that would irrevocably steal my youth. “This is our 9/11.” People shouted it: journalists, pedestrians, politicians. Anger filled the places in me that had felt so empty for days. How dare they? How dare they compare their loss to ours and assume to know what that day was for us? And then I realized it. The world was turning against itself, and I was at the front of the angry mob. My instinct had been to rank these horrific attacks—how dare I? Reality swept over me, as it never had before.
Please allow us our few indulgences. And understand that just because we are doing things differently, doing things our way, does not mean that we aren’t doing. Our generation is mourning the loss of a childhood. We lost our naiveté that day in September, so have patience with us. We do care. And we are worried. We aren’t indifferent. We aren’t lazy and self-absorbed. We are scared as hell. We’re just too caught up in our fear and panic attacks to mobilize right now. In the meantime, we will spend our evenings with friends and our weekends with family. We will take advantage of the daylight to work as hard as we are able and take pride in our effort. We will revel in every day. And we think you should too. It might do you some good.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Me again)
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The World Cup
2.) Being anti-text messaging
3.) Sam Adams
3 & 1/2.) "Baby Got Back" (cover) - Jonathan Coulton
Thought of the week:
"O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortness basely were too long"
-Big Willy
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Thoughts on Music From the Last Year and Half, or, An Entry Slightly Longer Than the Average Sufjan Stevens Song Title
As you might have noticed, it’s June of 2006. As you also might have noticed, I never got around to doing my year in review for 2005. I don’t know how you have been able to live these past five months. This has made the wait for the Pazz and Jop results seem brief by comparison. And after all this wait will you finally get a full fledged year in review? No you will not. Because at this point that would be REALLY lame. Even lamer than having an online journal. Or still calling your blog an online journal. Yes, it would be THAT lame. So in place of that, I’ll give you my musings on music from the past year and a half. After all, I think I covered my views on the movies of 2005 pretty extensively back all my Oscar “coverage”. And besides movies and music what else is there?
Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear your answer to that question, as it was intended to be rhetorical ….
Thoughts on music January 2005 – June 2006
Say what you will about Odelay, but I think Guero is by far Beck’s best album. Listening to it one time made me go from not really “getting” Beck to paying money to see him in concert. That’s a good album. I still say "Girl" should have been the first single though.
(Of course no discussion of Beck would be complete without mentioning the fact that he once wrote and sang the immortal lyric “flashdance asspants”. A fact that still remains simultaneously the best and worst thing you can possibly say about Beck.)
After much scientific research I have concluded that Bloc Party’s Silent Alarm is the official soundtrack of sitting alone in a subway station in New York City at 2:30am both hyped with energy from a night of activity and falling asleep at the same time.
Kanye West, Rapper: The Good, The Bad, The Ugly:
The Good: “The rock stand tall and you aint never believe it / Take your diamonds and throw em up like you bulimic”
The Bad: “You tellin me if my grandma’s in the NBA / right now she’d be okay / but since she was just a secretary working for the church for 35 years things supposed to stop right here”
The Ugly: “Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni / turn one page and there’s my Mommy”
Memo to Kanye: Maybe I’m a little confused but it would seem to me that you are actually in fact saying that she’s a gold digger. But maybe it’s just me.
Did Common call his new album Be because it’s the de-facto B-side to Late Registration, or because he wants to be Kanye? Either way it’s a great album.
(Also after seeing John Legend on Real Time with Bill Maher I am only further convinced that the Kanye/Common/John Legend/etc. posse is by far the greatest hip-hop posse of all time.
Followed closely by The No Limit Family of course…)
I think we can all agree that the best lyric of the year is Jay-Z’s “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man.” In fact his whole verse on “Diamonds From Sierra Leone” is some of his best work ever. (Props to Nas’s verse on “We Major” while we’re at it) And since I’m on the subject of Jay-Z I think it’s worth mentioning that even though he’s dating Beyonce, I really love and respect the Jigga Man. His career has been amazingly long and consistent, especially considering that 50 Cent’s is already over. And after watching Jay-Z on Centerstage on YES (don’t ask) I even sort of understand the whole Beyonce thing.
(On a semi-related note I really think 50 Cent should open a sandwich shop called Gangsta Wraps. It would instantly become my favorite restaurant of all time.)
Has anyone ever sold out as completely and shamelessly as The Black Eyed Peas?
Yes I see you raising your hand Liz Phair…
Someone alert the Pulitzer committee – there’s a new Red Hot Chili Peppers album!
I kid because I love.
No but seriously, “Hump De Bump” really speaks to me lyrically.
With Stadium Arcadium the Chili Peppers have pulled off one of the hardest feats in all of music – making a double album that actually warrants being two discs long. That’s something that even The Beatles and Bob Dylan couldn’t really pull off. So congrats boys.
For anyone who thinks rock is dead (that would include me...but more on that some other time) listen to “Turn It Again” off Stadium Arcadium. I don’t know if it proves the rock isn’t quite dead yet or just that John Frusciante and Flea are perhaps the most underrated musicians of all time, but I do know that it’s a damn good song.
(I really think Flea and John Frusciante should team up with Bono and Tre Cool from Green Day to form the greatest rock super group of all time. They could rule the world!)
(On a less exciting Stadium Arcadium related note: sadly “Wet Sand” is not a sequel to “I Like Dirt”. But I guess it at least establishs that Anthony Kiedis does still enjoy soil-like substances.)
I cant verify this for sure but I have a sneaking feeling that the guys in Wolfmother might have possibly listened to some Led Zeppelin at some point in their lives.
Some reviewer somewhere described Thunder Lightning Strike by The Go! Team as the soundtrack to the best day of your life. I would say that is a perfect description. And if you haven’t heard “Ladyflash” yet, your life is not complete.
This has nothing to do with anything but were you aware that the Canadian nickel has a beaver on it? Just thought that was worth noting.
I don’t know what’s sadder - that the Best Buy on 5th Avenue didn’t carry Morph the Cat or that I’m under the age of 40 and I made a special trip to Best Buy to get a solo CD by one of the members of Steely Dan the morning it was released.
Does Jenny Lewis have a younger sister? If so, does anyone have her number?
Separated from all the hype and expectations X & Y isn’t as bad as you remember. It’s not great, but go back and listen to it again. You’ll be glad you did.
(Plus, besides being one of my personal favorite songs in a long time, “Fix You” really makes the whole Gwyneth / Chris Martin thing make perfect sense doesn’t it?)
Before I forget, how about a moment to discuss my favorite music related “thing” of ‘05 – Sufjan Stevens’ song titles. Much like the great !!! (Chk Chk Chk) problem of ’01, only not completely lame, we need to come to a consensus on how one should refer to specific Sufjan Stevens’ songs. Let’s take “They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh!” for example. Now if one wanted to tell their friend they should listen to this song how would they tell them the song’s name? Would they use the whole title? If so, how would they deal with the “Ahhhh”? Would that just consist of them yelling? Now the obvious answer would be that the person would just use the first part, “They Are Night Zombies!!”, but unlike Polyphonic Spree or Billy Corgan, Sufjan didn’t put the rest of the ridiculously long title in parenthesis, which means he considered the whole thing to be the title and not just the first part. And if one did disobey Sufjan’s intentions and just refer to it as “They Are Night Zombies!!” that still leaves the issue of the punctuation. Its clearly there for a reason, so does that mean that when saying the title out loud you must exclaim it? What if the location where you are telling your friend about this song is in a library? What then? And don’t even get me started on the problems raised by others songs like “The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders, Pt. I: The Great Frontier/Pt. II: Come to Me Only With Playthings Now” or “The Black Hawk War, or, How to Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience But You’re Going to Have To Leave Now, or, ‘I Have Fought the Big Knives…’”. See why we really need to, as a nation, come to some sort of consensus about these.
(While we are talking about “They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh!” I think its worth considering the fact that if that song title is accurate then that means that the zombies could clearly give Andre 3000 some sugar.)
I think its quite possible that when Sufjan gets around to making his album about Texas it will be the greatest album of all time. And I’m not just saying that because I’m from there. Which brings us to…
Top 3 & 1/2 Most Anticipated Sufjan Stevens Albums:
1.) Texas
2.) California
3.) New York
3 & 1/2.) Alaska
(Rumor has it his next one will be about Oregon which somehow feels completely appropriate)
(It’s been said many times but it bears repeating that the fact that Sufjan Stevens could make a graphic song about a serial killer (“John Wayne Gacy, Jr.”) both moving and somewhat sympathetic is a sign that he’s a ridiculous talented songwriter. I think equally impressive though is the fact that he could make the phrase “Stephen A. Douglas was a great debtor / Abraham Lincoln was the Great Emancipator” so catchy that it was stuck in my head for two days straight and there was absolutely nothing I could do to get it out. Oh no...I think by even typing it I just got it stuck in my head again…AHHH!)
I think its safe to say that “Come On! Feel the Illiniose!, Pt. I: The Worlds Columbian Exposition / Pt. II: Carl Sandburg Visits Me In a Dream” is the best song ever written about the World’s Columbian Exposition and/or Carl Sandburg.
I couldn’t come up with anything clever to say about them, but they’re worth mentioning anyway: My Morning Jacket, Broken Social Scene, The Hold Steady
On to the awards…
Album of the Year 2005:
Late Registration – Kanye West. Although if you didn’t already know that then I wonder where exactly you spent your 2005. To take nothing away from Kanye but it was a pretty weak year for music overall. In fact you could make the case that although Late Registration was the best album of 2005, that it isn’t even the best Kanye West album from the last 24 months. College Dropout is better in almost every category: massive ubiquitous single (“Jesus Walks” over “Gold Digger”), 7+ minute song with spoken segment (“Last Call” over “We Major”), family song (“Family Business” over “Hey Mama”), number of hit songs, skits, etc., but somehow Late Registration just FEELS like the better album. College Dropout felt like a great commercial hip-hop album, but Late Registration feels like Outkast-level art. Its more adventurous, more socially conscious, less commercial and hit driven, and you can literally feel Jon Brion’s influence. After all, he’s “on the keys right now”.
(Does anyone else find Kanye’s apparent obsession with Fiona Apple a bit strange. And why has more not been made of the fact that Jon Brion produced the best rap album of the year and Mike Elizondo produced the best Fiona Apple album of the year? Am I the only one who thinks about these things? Probably.)
Single of the Year 2005:
I think we all know the best song of the year is “Since U Been Gone”. There’s really no point to even discussing this fact. I think the only real debate is: is it the best song of the decade? I don’t know if it’s quite on level with “Lose Yourself”, “Hey Ya”, and “Jesus Walks”, but the fact that it’s even in the discussion is pretty good. And the fact that a song by Kelly Clarkson might be the clubhouse leader for non-hip-hop single of the 00’s is pretty astounding. (See, told you rock is dead).
(On a side note, since this decade is almost half over can we figure out how to refer to it sometime soon? I mean are we really destined to be watching “I Love the Aughts: 3-D” in 10 years? Is that the best we can come up with?)
(I can’t mention singles of the year without also acknowledging “This Modern Love” by Bloc Party. I only wish Id written it first.)
(On the opposite end of the spectrum: “Laffy Taffy”, “My Humps”, “Had a Bad Day”, “Don’t Cha”.)
Most Underrated Album of 2005:
Almost as undebatable as Best Single of 2005, is Most Underrated Album of 2005. That tile indisputably belongs to Ben Folds for Songs for Silverman. It a huge leap forward and a radical and unexpected shift in tone and direction for a critically respected and commercially successful artist and yet it wasn’t in Rolling Stone or Spin’s Top 40 Albums of the year. I don’t understand how really. “Landed” is by far one of the best singles of the year and its probably not even one of the top two songs on its own album. Those would be “Late” and “Jesusland”. All of the songs, but especially those two, take simplicity and understatement to magical new places. Instead of wallowing in sentiment or taking a song about his daughter, or Jesus and the hypocrisy of his followers, or the death of Elliot Smith to the places 99% of artists would take them to, he scales them back to almost nothing, leaving unique, personal and deeply felt songs that are infinitely better for their stark minimalism. Listen to Ben talk about “Late” on the DVD that came with the CD and you can really grasp the song's brilliance. He didn’t even really know Elliot Smith but he enjoyed his music and had heard that he played a dirty game of basketball, so he wrote a song to him using that information and nothing more, and it’s one of the best tributes a person could receive. It’s only a shame Elliot isn’t around to hear it. Coming off his three EPs and, well, his whole prior ovure, hearing such grown up, stripped down, simple songs from Ben was starling and completely unexpected. And its only a shame more people didn’t hear it.
(You should also check out Ben's songs from the Over The Hedge soundtrack. Although its what Jeff Daniels' character from The Squid and the Whale would call "minor Folds", it's still worth checking out. Although the less said about the "Rockin the Suburbs" remix with William Shatner the better.)
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) No Direction Home
2.) Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stadium Arcadium (album)
3.) Quiznos
3 & 1/2.) Tenacious D – “Wonderboy” (why I am the last person on earth to get into Tenacious D, and how come no one exposed me to them sooner?)
Thought of the Week:
Apparently Mike Nichols is directing Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts in a film written by Aaron Sorkin, and Spike Jonze is directing an adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are written by Dave Eggers. It’s hard to know which project to be more excited about.
Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear your answer to that question, as it was intended to be rhetorical ….
Thoughts on music January 2005 – June 2006
Say what you will about Odelay, but I think Guero is by far Beck’s best album. Listening to it one time made me go from not really “getting” Beck to paying money to see him in concert. That’s a good album. I still say "Girl" should have been the first single though.
(Of course no discussion of Beck would be complete without mentioning the fact that he once wrote and sang the immortal lyric “flashdance asspants”. A fact that still remains simultaneously the best and worst thing you can possibly say about Beck.)
After much scientific research I have concluded that Bloc Party’s Silent Alarm is the official soundtrack of sitting alone in a subway station in New York City at 2:30am both hyped with energy from a night of activity and falling asleep at the same time.
Kanye West, Rapper: The Good, The Bad, The Ugly:
The Good: “The rock stand tall and you aint never believe it / Take your diamonds and throw em up like you bulimic”
The Bad: “You tellin me if my grandma’s in the NBA / right now she’d be okay / but since she was just a secretary working for the church for 35 years things supposed to stop right here”
The Ugly: “Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni / turn one page and there’s my Mommy”
Memo to Kanye: Maybe I’m a little confused but it would seem to me that you are actually in fact saying that she’s a gold digger. But maybe it’s just me.
Did Common call his new album Be because it’s the de-facto B-side to Late Registration, or because he wants to be Kanye? Either way it’s a great album.
(Also after seeing John Legend on Real Time with Bill Maher I am only further convinced that the Kanye/Common/John Legend/etc. posse is by far the greatest hip-hop posse of all time.
Followed closely by The No Limit Family of course…)
I think we can all agree that the best lyric of the year is Jay-Z’s “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man.” In fact his whole verse on “Diamonds From Sierra Leone” is some of his best work ever. (Props to Nas’s verse on “We Major” while we’re at it) And since I’m on the subject of Jay-Z I think it’s worth mentioning that even though he’s dating Beyonce, I really love and respect the Jigga Man. His career has been amazingly long and consistent, especially considering that 50 Cent’s is already over. And after watching Jay-Z on Centerstage on YES (don’t ask) I even sort of understand the whole Beyonce thing.
(On a semi-related note I really think 50 Cent should open a sandwich shop called Gangsta Wraps. It would instantly become my favorite restaurant of all time.)
Has anyone ever sold out as completely and shamelessly as The Black Eyed Peas?
Yes I see you raising your hand Liz Phair…
Someone alert the Pulitzer committee – there’s a new Red Hot Chili Peppers album!
I kid because I love.
No but seriously, “Hump De Bump” really speaks to me lyrically.
With Stadium Arcadium the Chili Peppers have pulled off one of the hardest feats in all of music – making a double album that actually warrants being two discs long. That’s something that even The Beatles and Bob Dylan couldn’t really pull off. So congrats boys.
For anyone who thinks rock is dead (that would include me...but more on that some other time) listen to “Turn It Again” off Stadium Arcadium. I don’t know if it proves the rock isn’t quite dead yet or just that John Frusciante and Flea are perhaps the most underrated musicians of all time, but I do know that it’s a damn good song.
(I really think Flea and John Frusciante should team up with Bono and Tre Cool from Green Day to form the greatest rock super group of all time. They could rule the world!)
(On a less exciting Stadium Arcadium related note: sadly “Wet Sand” is not a sequel to “I Like Dirt”. But I guess it at least establishs that Anthony Kiedis does still enjoy soil-like substances.)
I cant verify this for sure but I have a sneaking feeling that the guys in Wolfmother might have possibly listened to some Led Zeppelin at some point in their lives.
Some reviewer somewhere described Thunder Lightning Strike by The Go! Team as the soundtrack to the best day of your life. I would say that is a perfect description. And if you haven’t heard “Ladyflash” yet, your life is not complete.
This has nothing to do with anything but were you aware that the Canadian nickel has a beaver on it? Just thought that was worth noting.
I don’t know what’s sadder - that the Best Buy on 5th Avenue didn’t carry Morph the Cat or that I’m under the age of 40 and I made a special trip to Best Buy to get a solo CD by one of the members of Steely Dan the morning it was released.
Does Jenny Lewis have a younger sister? If so, does anyone have her number?
Separated from all the hype and expectations X & Y isn’t as bad as you remember. It’s not great, but go back and listen to it again. You’ll be glad you did.
(Plus, besides being one of my personal favorite songs in a long time, “Fix You” really makes the whole Gwyneth / Chris Martin thing make perfect sense doesn’t it?)
Before I forget, how about a moment to discuss my favorite music related “thing” of ‘05 – Sufjan Stevens’ song titles. Much like the great !!! (Chk Chk Chk) problem of ’01, only not completely lame, we need to come to a consensus on how one should refer to specific Sufjan Stevens’ songs. Let’s take “They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh!” for example. Now if one wanted to tell their friend they should listen to this song how would they tell them the song’s name? Would they use the whole title? If so, how would they deal with the “Ahhhh”? Would that just consist of them yelling? Now the obvious answer would be that the person would just use the first part, “They Are Night Zombies!!”, but unlike Polyphonic Spree or Billy Corgan, Sufjan didn’t put the rest of the ridiculously long title in parenthesis, which means he considered the whole thing to be the title and not just the first part. And if one did disobey Sufjan’s intentions and just refer to it as “They Are Night Zombies!!” that still leaves the issue of the punctuation. Its clearly there for a reason, so does that mean that when saying the title out loud you must exclaim it? What if the location where you are telling your friend about this song is in a library? What then? And don’t even get me started on the problems raised by others songs like “The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders, Pt. I: The Great Frontier/Pt. II: Come to Me Only With Playthings Now” or “The Black Hawk War, or, How to Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience But You’re Going to Have To Leave Now, or, ‘I Have Fought the Big Knives…’”. See why we really need to, as a nation, come to some sort of consensus about these.
(While we are talking about “They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh!” I think its worth considering the fact that if that song title is accurate then that means that the zombies could clearly give Andre 3000 some sugar.)
I think its quite possible that when Sufjan gets around to making his album about Texas it will be the greatest album of all time. And I’m not just saying that because I’m from there. Which brings us to…
Top 3 & 1/2 Most Anticipated Sufjan Stevens Albums:
1.) Texas
2.) California
3.) New York
3 & 1/2.) Alaska
(Rumor has it his next one will be about Oregon which somehow feels completely appropriate)
(It’s been said many times but it bears repeating that the fact that Sufjan Stevens could make a graphic song about a serial killer (“John Wayne Gacy, Jr.”) both moving and somewhat sympathetic is a sign that he’s a ridiculous talented songwriter. I think equally impressive though is the fact that he could make the phrase “Stephen A. Douglas was a great debtor / Abraham Lincoln was the Great Emancipator” so catchy that it was stuck in my head for two days straight and there was absolutely nothing I could do to get it out. Oh no...I think by even typing it I just got it stuck in my head again…AHHH!)
I think its safe to say that “Come On! Feel the Illiniose!, Pt. I: The Worlds Columbian Exposition / Pt. II: Carl Sandburg Visits Me In a Dream” is the best song ever written about the World’s Columbian Exposition and/or Carl Sandburg.
I couldn’t come up with anything clever to say about them, but they’re worth mentioning anyway: My Morning Jacket, Broken Social Scene, The Hold Steady
On to the awards…
Album of the Year 2005:
Late Registration – Kanye West. Although if you didn’t already know that then I wonder where exactly you spent your 2005. To take nothing away from Kanye but it was a pretty weak year for music overall. In fact you could make the case that although Late Registration was the best album of 2005, that it isn’t even the best Kanye West album from the last 24 months. College Dropout is better in almost every category: massive ubiquitous single (“Jesus Walks” over “Gold Digger”), 7+ minute song with spoken segment (“Last Call” over “We Major”), family song (“Family Business” over “Hey Mama”), number of hit songs, skits, etc., but somehow Late Registration just FEELS like the better album. College Dropout felt like a great commercial hip-hop album, but Late Registration feels like Outkast-level art. Its more adventurous, more socially conscious, less commercial and hit driven, and you can literally feel Jon Brion’s influence. After all, he’s “on the keys right now”.
(Does anyone else find Kanye’s apparent obsession with Fiona Apple a bit strange. And why has more not been made of the fact that Jon Brion produced the best rap album of the year and Mike Elizondo produced the best Fiona Apple album of the year? Am I the only one who thinks about these things? Probably.)
Single of the Year 2005:
I think we all know the best song of the year is “Since U Been Gone”. There’s really no point to even discussing this fact. I think the only real debate is: is it the best song of the decade? I don’t know if it’s quite on level with “Lose Yourself”, “Hey Ya”, and “Jesus Walks”, but the fact that it’s even in the discussion is pretty good. And the fact that a song by Kelly Clarkson might be the clubhouse leader for non-hip-hop single of the 00’s is pretty astounding. (See, told you rock is dead).
(On a side note, since this decade is almost half over can we figure out how to refer to it sometime soon? I mean are we really destined to be watching “I Love the Aughts: 3-D” in 10 years? Is that the best we can come up with?)
(I can’t mention singles of the year without also acknowledging “This Modern Love” by Bloc Party. I only wish Id written it first.)
(On the opposite end of the spectrum: “Laffy Taffy”, “My Humps”, “Had a Bad Day”, “Don’t Cha”.)
Most Underrated Album of 2005:
Almost as undebatable as Best Single of 2005, is Most Underrated Album of 2005. That tile indisputably belongs to Ben Folds for Songs for Silverman. It a huge leap forward and a radical and unexpected shift in tone and direction for a critically respected and commercially successful artist and yet it wasn’t in Rolling Stone or Spin’s Top 40 Albums of the year. I don’t understand how really. “Landed” is by far one of the best singles of the year and its probably not even one of the top two songs on its own album. Those would be “Late” and “Jesusland”. All of the songs, but especially those two, take simplicity and understatement to magical new places. Instead of wallowing in sentiment or taking a song about his daughter, or Jesus and the hypocrisy of his followers, or the death of Elliot Smith to the places 99% of artists would take them to, he scales them back to almost nothing, leaving unique, personal and deeply felt songs that are infinitely better for their stark minimalism. Listen to Ben talk about “Late” on the DVD that came with the CD and you can really grasp the song's brilliance. He didn’t even really know Elliot Smith but he enjoyed his music and had heard that he played a dirty game of basketball, so he wrote a song to him using that information and nothing more, and it’s one of the best tributes a person could receive. It’s only a shame Elliot isn’t around to hear it. Coming off his three EPs and, well, his whole prior ovure, hearing such grown up, stripped down, simple songs from Ben was starling and completely unexpected. And its only a shame more people didn’t hear it.
(You should also check out Ben's songs from the Over The Hedge soundtrack. Although its what Jeff Daniels' character from The Squid and the Whale would call "minor Folds", it's still worth checking out. Although the less said about the "Rockin the Suburbs" remix with William Shatner the better.)
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) No Direction Home
2.) Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stadium Arcadium (album)
3.) Quiznos
3 & 1/2.) Tenacious D – “Wonderboy” (why I am the last person on earth to get into Tenacious D, and how come no one exposed me to them sooner?)
Thought of the Week:
Apparently Mike Nichols is directing Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts in a film written by Aaron Sorkin, and Spike Jonze is directing an adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are written by Dave Eggers. It’s hard to know which project to be more excited about.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
United 93
This wasn’t what I was intending to post this week. I had something else all ready to go and was going to kick back and enjoy a relaxing weekend. But then something happened. I saw United 93. And now I sit here typing away ignoring the fact that I already had something perfectly fine typed and ready to go. Because now things have changed. Now I actually have something to say. And that something is this - Go see United 93. Well actually it’s a little more complicated than that. What I have to say I mean. Not the seeing of the movie. That remains quite easy. Just go to your nearest theater ask for a ticket. And then sit down and say goodbye for a few hours to your cynical complacent self-involved life. Because United 93 will take you away from your every day life and back to the core of what it means to be human, of what it means to be alive in our world today, and to the day when both of those changed forever in some way.
Now I know what you’re thinking - we need more 9/11 commentary like we need another Nick Lachey album. And I agree with you. But…what I was struck by while watching United 93 is how now all of the commentary focuses on the aftermath of 9/11 and what it all means instead of dealing with the actual day itself. Its almost impossible to fathom nowadays that September 11th used to just be a normal day on the calendar, no more or less important than any other and with no weight or significance to it whatsoever. When the people went to bed on September 10th 2001 they didn’t think, “Wow tomorrow is September 11th”. When they woke up that morning and started on their way to work it seemed just like every other morning. But then two planes hit the twin towers and one hit the Pentagon (amazing how we all forget this fact) and the world was forever changed. Changed in ways we could have never predicted or imagined. In the hours, upon days, upon years of coverage and analysis and commentary and debate that have followed 9/11 we seem to have only proven how unknowable human nature and the nature of tragedy are. I remember people at the time saying in all seriousness that Americans would never be able to fully laugh again. I remember great predictions of a new age of national togetherness, bipartisanship, and patriotism. Now five years later we all hate each other, but damn it if we don’t love to laugh about it. We swore we would catch those responsible for the attacks, but now we’re in war with Iraq that may never end and Osama Bin Laden is STILL on the loose. George Bush’s approval rating soared to 90%, but now he’s being openly considered one of the worst presidents in U.S. history. There was an unprecedented outpouring of global sympathy and support for the U.S., but now we’re one of the most hated countries in the world. If you were to go back to September 11th 2001 and tell them what the world would be like five years later as a result of that day, I doubt they would be able to believe you. But for all the ways the world has changed in a global sense, our personal day-to-day lives are pretty much exactly the same. Sure we live in a more fearful society now, and sure our national innocence was lost that day, but in our daily lives - day in and day out – we’re pretty much the same people we were before 9/11. All those people who made radical post-9/11 related life changes; I would wager that most of those people’s day-to-day lives now pretty closely resemble their pre-9/11 lives. I can’t say I or anyone else goes around every day, or even ANY day, thinking about 9/11. And I can’t say that my mentality on life or the way I live my life has been in any way noticeably directly affected by that day. In fact I would really struggle to find almost any way in which my day-to-day personal life and who I am was affected by 9/11. And most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, would probably say the same thing. And if you do still walk around every day thinking about 9/11 and feeling deeply changed and/or tormented by it, might I suggest you get yourself some serious professional help post-haste. Because life goes on. Human beings are programmed so that we can experience tragedy, mourn over it, deal with it, and then accept it and move on. It’s a gift really. If we weren’t able to do that then none of us would ever be able to make it out of our mid 20’s without becoming too overwhelmed with grief and sorrow to live. Human beings are the most adaptable species on Earth and that’s allowed us to adapt to life in a post-9/11 world. But it’s important in this life to stop and think back. And remember. Because as much as we hear about 9/11 we never really remember it. We never actually sit down and think long and hard about the event itself. Because we’ve moved on. But it happened. It was something real and tragic and we were all there. And on that day, we said we would never be able to get over it. But we did. We hung signs that said “We Will Never Forget”. But we have. And we said there’s no way a movie could ever be made about it. But now one has been. And it’s because we were wrong about the first two things that we were also wrong about the third. And that’s why it’s important to see United 93. To remember. To remember not just the idea of 9/11 and all that’s attached to it, but to actually remember 9/11. To remember that day. Because in all the 9/11 commentary that has followed that’s the thing that has gotten lost. And that is why I urge you all, all six of you who read this, to go see it before it leaves theaters. And then urge everyone else in America to as well.
The other day when I was going to see it, I tried to urge my friend from work to come along. He looked at me like I had just asked him to come with me to watch a guy kill baby kittens. “Why do you want to see that?” he asked with a tone that could best be described as incredulous. And in that moment I felt very, very sad for America. And it’s really what spurred the writing of this piece.
Now the fact that the American movie going public is stupid and doesn’t like good, challenging or sophisticated movies is no news flash. I worked at Blockbuster for three years, so trust me, no one could have less faith in the American movie going public than me. But in that moment I realized how truly soft we’ve become. How self-involved. How coddled and safe and numb and unable to deal with anything that might challenge us or make us really feel genuine emotion, as opposed to the idea of emotion. As Owen Gleiberman points out in Entertainment Weekly, have you seen the list of movies that have made more money than United 93? You’re telling me people would really rather see She’s The Man and Silent Hill than United 93? What does this say about them? What does this say about us? How did we go from a country that used to watch live Civil War battles for family entertainment, to a country that cant even fathom the thought of wanting to see a reenactment of the most important historic event of our lifetimes. An event that we CLAIM to be so personally affected by. An event that we CLAIM forever altered out lives. Yet an event that we can’t even take two hours out of our busy lives to revisit and see dramatized. What is wrong with us? Granted it’s horrifying, and depressing, and yes it could even be described as a bit traumatic, but isn’t that what drama was invented for – to provide us with, as Aristotle said, “catharsis”. Isn’t this the very foundation that all dramatic art is based upon? And what event could we all use some catharsis regarding if not 9/11? The Ancient Greeks would have flocked to see United 93 in huge numbers. It would have been the biggest movie of all time. So how then did we get to this place? This place where we seem incredulous that drama would dare depict a horrible tragedy or that anyone would actually want to see it.
Now I’ve heard all the arguments…
* “It’s too soon.”
Oh really? Five years is too soon? How about the two TV movies that came before United 93? Were they too soon? How about the countless documentaries that have come and gone? How about the plays? The short films? The books? Are all of those things too soon too? How long SHOULD we wait then? Ten years? Fifteen years? Would forty years be too soon? Because I would hate for art to attempt to deal with something in a timely and relevant manner. It would be terrible if art to tried to shed any light on real life. That’s not the purpose of art or anything. Oh wait...actually it is. And the ability of movies to do just that – illuminate real life – is what raises them from pure entertainment into the realm of art. So is it too soon, or do you just hate all art?
* “It’s too real.”
Yes I agree. Hollywood should never make any movies about any real events. Actors should never play real people. How dare Hollywood make movies like Born on the Fourth of July or Schindler’s List! Look, to be real for a second, all of the families of everyone who died aboard Flight 93 approved of this movie. So who the hell are you to say it’s not okay? Unless you know someone who died aboard that flight, you really have no right to say whether United 93 should or should not have been made. How would you feel if someone you loved died in a tragedy and people tried to tell you that a movie shouldn’t be made that depicted for the world for all eternity their heroism and bravery? You’d tell them to shut the hell up. So you should do the same.
* “I think its wrong that the movie studio is, in a way, profiting from 9/11.”
Good point. Artists should never profit from their works. All art of any kind done about 9/11 should be done solely for charity. Same with Pearl Harbor. And the Holocaust. Look, it’d be one thing if it was a bad, disrespectful, Hollywoodized version of the events. But it’s an incredibly well done movie that was made with the utmost care and respect for all involved. I think its pretty safe to say that a better movie about 9/11 cannot and will not ever be made. So if you have a problem supporting that with your money then so be it. But just know that if you actually saw the movie I don’t think you would have the same complaint.
* “It’s too depressing.”
Wasn’t Terms of Endearment depressing? Or Love Story? Or Hamlet?
* “It’s too tragic.”
Wasn’t Brokeback Mountain tragic? Or Death of a Salesman? Or Titanic?
Look I could go on with your potential excuses all day and I could have a rebuttal for all of them, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. Because your real reason for not wanting to see it has nothing to with the movie itself. It has to do with you. To paraphrase Owen Gliberman, “it’s not the movie that we should be discussing; it’s our fear of seeing it.”
So I have a challenge for you. Face your fear. Take two hours out of your life and see United 93. It may be painful, it may be sad, it may be hard to watch, but that’s life and I think it’s about time you starting dealing with it. You owe it to the people who died that day, and you owe it to yourself. Because if you can’t even be bothered to see United 93 then how can you claim that 9/11 was a big deal for you? How can you use it as an excuse to justify the war? To justify supporting our current foreign policy? How can you claim it changed your life, or was important, or that you’ll never forget it if you cant even be bothered to take two measly hours out of your trite self-involved life to honor the memory of those that died, to reflect on that day, and to experience some cathartic remembrance of it? You cant.
It’s as simple as that.
Now if you still don’t want to see United 93, well, that’s your call. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, and as strongly as I may feel about mine, you’re entitled to yours. It’s your right. As an American and as human being. But let me tell you what you’re missing out on. You’re missing out on experiencing again the feelings of that fateful day and the days that followed. The patriotism. The feeling of togetherness. The renewed love for your loved ones and for your fellow man. All the feelings that have been obfuscated by the events that have followed. But for the few minutes after the closing credits start to roll, they come flooding back. You wipe your eyes, gather yourself, and head out onto the street. And sure enough as you leave the theater you feel connected to your fellow man. You wait for the train and you see the people who walk by not as a mass of annoyances, but as a series of faces, and behind each face a person. A person who shares this world with you and who has a life and loves and is just like you. And as their feet trudge by up the steps and into the dimming light of another quickly fading day you hear each pair of footsteps as its own. A group of individuals moving together in a sea of humanity. A sea capable of great and heroic things. And you’re reminded – this is what it means to be alive. And that’s what makes United 93 essential viewing. That’s why it should be shown in schools. That’s why it should be in every home. That’s why it should be mandatory viewing for every man, woman, and child that calls this country of ours home. Because that feeling is there. It’s there on the screen in United 93.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
(Further 9/11 related reading)
1.) "Manifesto": http://www.slate.com/id/2105672
2.) Owen Gleiberman's article on United 93: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/commentary/0,6115,1195450_1_0_,00.html
3.) Peter Travers Review of United 93: http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/movie/_/id/9216055/rid/10146749/
3 & 1/2.) CNN's 9/11 Video archives: http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2001/trade.center/day.video.09.html#11th
Now I know what you’re thinking - we need more 9/11 commentary like we need another Nick Lachey album. And I agree with you. But…what I was struck by while watching United 93 is how now all of the commentary focuses on the aftermath of 9/11 and what it all means instead of dealing with the actual day itself. Its almost impossible to fathom nowadays that September 11th used to just be a normal day on the calendar, no more or less important than any other and with no weight or significance to it whatsoever. When the people went to bed on September 10th 2001 they didn’t think, “Wow tomorrow is September 11th”. When they woke up that morning and started on their way to work it seemed just like every other morning. But then two planes hit the twin towers and one hit the Pentagon (amazing how we all forget this fact) and the world was forever changed. Changed in ways we could have never predicted or imagined. In the hours, upon days, upon years of coverage and analysis and commentary and debate that have followed 9/11 we seem to have only proven how unknowable human nature and the nature of tragedy are. I remember people at the time saying in all seriousness that Americans would never be able to fully laugh again. I remember great predictions of a new age of national togetherness, bipartisanship, and patriotism. Now five years later we all hate each other, but damn it if we don’t love to laugh about it. We swore we would catch those responsible for the attacks, but now we’re in war with Iraq that may never end and Osama Bin Laden is STILL on the loose. George Bush’s approval rating soared to 90%, but now he’s being openly considered one of the worst presidents in U.S. history. There was an unprecedented outpouring of global sympathy and support for the U.S., but now we’re one of the most hated countries in the world. If you were to go back to September 11th 2001 and tell them what the world would be like five years later as a result of that day, I doubt they would be able to believe you. But for all the ways the world has changed in a global sense, our personal day-to-day lives are pretty much exactly the same. Sure we live in a more fearful society now, and sure our national innocence was lost that day, but in our daily lives - day in and day out – we’re pretty much the same people we were before 9/11. All those people who made radical post-9/11 related life changes; I would wager that most of those people’s day-to-day lives now pretty closely resemble their pre-9/11 lives. I can’t say I or anyone else goes around every day, or even ANY day, thinking about 9/11. And I can’t say that my mentality on life or the way I live my life has been in any way noticeably directly affected by that day. In fact I would really struggle to find almost any way in which my day-to-day personal life and who I am was affected by 9/11. And most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, would probably say the same thing. And if you do still walk around every day thinking about 9/11 and feeling deeply changed and/or tormented by it, might I suggest you get yourself some serious professional help post-haste. Because life goes on. Human beings are programmed so that we can experience tragedy, mourn over it, deal with it, and then accept it and move on. It’s a gift really. If we weren’t able to do that then none of us would ever be able to make it out of our mid 20’s without becoming too overwhelmed with grief and sorrow to live. Human beings are the most adaptable species on Earth and that’s allowed us to adapt to life in a post-9/11 world. But it’s important in this life to stop and think back. And remember. Because as much as we hear about 9/11 we never really remember it. We never actually sit down and think long and hard about the event itself. Because we’ve moved on. But it happened. It was something real and tragic and we were all there. And on that day, we said we would never be able to get over it. But we did. We hung signs that said “We Will Never Forget”. But we have. And we said there’s no way a movie could ever be made about it. But now one has been. And it’s because we were wrong about the first two things that we were also wrong about the third. And that’s why it’s important to see United 93. To remember. To remember not just the idea of 9/11 and all that’s attached to it, but to actually remember 9/11. To remember that day. Because in all the 9/11 commentary that has followed that’s the thing that has gotten lost. And that is why I urge you all, all six of you who read this, to go see it before it leaves theaters. And then urge everyone else in America to as well.
The other day when I was going to see it, I tried to urge my friend from work to come along. He looked at me like I had just asked him to come with me to watch a guy kill baby kittens. “Why do you want to see that?” he asked with a tone that could best be described as incredulous. And in that moment I felt very, very sad for America. And it’s really what spurred the writing of this piece.
Now the fact that the American movie going public is stupid and doesn’t like good, challenging or sophisticated movies is no news flash. I worked at Blockbuster for three years, so trust me, no one could have less faith in the American movie going public than me. But in that moment I realized how truly soft we’ve become. How self-involved. How coddled and safe and numb and unable to deal with anything that might challenge us or make us really feel genuine emotion, as opposed to the idea of emotion. As Owen Gleiberman points out in Entertainment Weekly, have you seen the list of movies that have made more money than United 93? You’re telling me people would really rather see She’s The Man and Silent Hill than United 93? What does this say about them? What does this say about us? How did we go from a country that used to watch live Civil War battles for family entertainment, to a country that cant even fathom the thought of wanting to see a reenactment of the most important historic event of our lifetimes. An event that we CLAIM to be so personally affected by. An event that we CLAIM forever altered out lives. Yet an event that we can’t even take two hours out of our busy lives to revisit and see dramatized. What is wrong with us? Granted it’s horrifying, and depressing, and yes it could even be described as a bit traumatic, but isn’t that what drama was invented for – to provide us with, as Aristotle said, “catharsis”. Isn’t this the very foundation that all dramatic art is based upon? And what event could we all use some catharsis regarding if not 9/11? The Ancient Greeks would have flocked to see United 93 in huge numbers. It would have been the biggest movie of all time. So how then did we get to this place? This place where we seem incredulous that drama would dare depict a horrible tragedy or that anyone would actually want to see it.
Now I’ve heard all the arguments…
* “It’s too soon.”
Oh really? Five years is too soon? How about the two TV movies that came before United 93? Were they too soon? How about the countless documentaries that have come and gone? How about the plays? The short films? The books? Are all of those things too soon too? How long SHOULD we wait then? Ten years? Fifteen years? Would forty years be too soon? Because I would hate for art to attempt to deal with something in a timely and relevant manner. It would be terrible if art to tried to shed any light on real life. That’s not the purpose of art or anything. Oh wait...actually it is. And the ability of movies to do just that – illuminate real life – is what raises them from pure entertainment into the realm of art. So is it too soon, or do you just hate all art?
* “It’s too real.”
Yes I agree. Hollywood should never make any movies about any real events. Actors should never play real people. How dare Hollywood make movies like Born on the Fourth of July or Schindler’s List! Look, to be real for a second, all of the families of everyone who died aboard Flight 93 approved of this movie. So who the hell are you to say it’s not okay? Unless you know someone who died aboard that flight, you really have no right to say whether United 93 should or should not have been made. How would you feel if someone you loved died in a tragedy and people tried to tell you that a movie shouldn’t be made that depicted for the world for all eternity their heroism and bravery? You’d tell them to shut the hell up. So you should do the same.
* “I think its wrong that the movie studio is, in a way, profiting from 9/11.”
Good point. Artists should never profit from their works. All art of any kind done about 9/11 should be done solely for charity. Same with Pearl Harbor. And the Holocaust. Look, it’d be one thing if it was a bad, disrespectful, Hollywoodized version of the events. But it’s an incredibly well done movie that was made with the utmost care and respect for all involved. I think its pretty safe to say that a better movie about 9/11 cannot and will not ever be made. So if you have a problem supporting that with your money then so be it. But just know that if you actually saw the movie I don’t think you would have the same complaint.
* “It’s too depressing.”
Wasn’t Terms of Endearment depressing? Or Love Story? Or Hamlet?
* “It’s too tragic.”
Wasn’t Brokeback Mountain tragic? Or Death of a Salesman? Or Titanic?
Look I could go on with your potential excuses all day and I could have a rebuttal for all of them, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. Because your real reason for not wanting to see it has nothing to with the movie itself. It has to do with you. To paraphrase Owen Gliberman, “it’s not the movie that we should be discussing; it’s our fear of seeing it.”
So I have a challenge for you. Face your fear. Take two hours out of your life and see United 93. It may be painful, it may be sad, it may be hard to watch, but that’s life and I think it’s about time you starting dealing with it. You owe it to the people who died that day, and you owe it to yourself. Because if you can’t even be bothered to see United 93 then how can you claim that 9/11 was a big deal for you? How can you use it as an excuse to justify the war? To justify supporting our current foreign policy? How can you claim it changed your life, or was important, or that you’ll never forget it if you cant even be bothered to take two measly hours out of your trite self-involved life to honor the memory of those that died, to reflect on that day, and to experience some cathartic remembrance of it? You cant.
It’s as simple as that.
Now if you still don’t want to see United 93, well, that’s your call. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, and as strongly as I may feel about mine, you’re entitled to yours. It’s your right. As an American and as human being. But let me tell you what you’re missing out on. You’re missing out on experiencing again the feelings of that fateful day and the days that followed. The patriotism. The feeling of togetherness. The renewed love for your loved ones and for your fellow man. All the feelings that have been obfuscated by the events that have followed. But for the few minutes after the closing credits start to roll, they come flooding back. You wipe your eyes, gather yourself, and head out onto the street. And sure enough as you leave the theater you feel connected to your fellow man. You wait for the train and you see the people who walk by not as a mass of annoyances, but as a series of faces, and behind each face a person. A person who shares this world with you and who has a life and loves and is just like you. And as their feet trudge by up the steps and into the dimming light of another quickly fading day you hear each pair of footsteps as its own. A group of individuals moving together in a sea of humanity. A sea capable of great and heroic things. And you’re reminded – this is what it means to be alive. And that’s what makes United 93 essential viewing. That’s why it should be shown in schools. That’s why it should be in every home. That’s why it should be mandatory viewing for every man, woman, and child that calls this country of ours home. Because that feeling is there. It’s there on the screen in United 93.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
(Further 9/11 related reading)
1.) "Manifesto": http://www.slate.com/id/2105672
2.) Owen Gleiberman's article on United 93: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/commentary/0,6115,1195450_1_0_,00.html
3.) Peter Travers Review of United 93: http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/movie/_/id/9216055/rid/10146749/
3 & 1/2.) CNN's 9/11 Video archives: http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2001/trade.center/day.video.09.html#11th
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Why I Cant Sleep
We’ve all had that experience at the movie theater. We have our popcorn, we’re just settling into our seat, the previews are rolling along, and then out of the blue you’ll hear it: “Starring Academy Award winner Halle Berry”. And we all have the same reaction: “What the $#%#$”
Exactly.
What the $#%#$ indeed.
Halle Berry has an Oscar. How did that happen? It’s one of the greatest and most senseless tragedies of our time. And yet so many people have forgotten it even occurred. But we must never forget or else it might happen again. In nearly every major city there have been Holocaust museums erected, and yet not a single Halle Berry Oscar museum exists. Well I may be only one man and I may not have the money to buy a museum, but I do have a little read obscure online blog with a strange name. And I will use the remaining few paragraphs or so of this week’s entry to make sure the WORLD never forgets.
In order to deal with this problem though we must first look at how it happened. Looking back it would seem people were fooled by her attractiveness into thinking she deserved an Oscar. But come on, do we really live world where an actor’s merit is determined not by their level of talent but by their physical attributes? I say we do not! I also say my mind operates on the level of a five year old’s.
So it must be something else that led to her Oscar win. But what? Well, when anything in life happens and it seems like there is a logical explanation for it but you’re too lazy to find out what that reason is then that can only mean one thing: It must have been a racial thing.
At that time a black woman had never won Best Actress before, and so her win was great day for black people everywhere. Her win wasn’t just a win for her, but for all black women everywhere. You see, she’s very black. She’s not like The Rock or Mariah Carey - the grand marshals of the People Of Indeterminate Ethic Origin Day Parade. Oh no, she’s as black as night. As black as the bruises David Justice gave her. As black as a KFC in Bed-Stuy.
Only one problem...
She’s half white.
Her freaking mother who was sitting next to her when she won was whiter than Lauren Ambrose. I don’t get why this was never mentioned. Why was all the coverage of her winning focused around the fact she was “black”? It would be like if Freddie Prinze Jr. won a Cable Ace Award and it was declared a great moment for the Hispanic community.
(Speaking of great moments for the Hispanic community, can someone shoot Carlos Mencia for me?)
So since she’s half white it must not have been an affirmative action thing. So what was it? Why DID Halle Berry win an Oscar?
The world may never know.
Which means it was proabaly Sadam Hussein's fault.
Now lets go invade Iraq.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The Coup
2.) The Greys Anatomy Finale
3.) Mario Live: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2139555376132383479&q=mario+live&pr=goog-sl
3 & 1/2.) "Further Evidence That Sports Center Has Lost All Connection to Reality": http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2006/5/10steele.html
Thought of the Week: Anyone else see the teaser ad for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? How did people forget to tell me Timothy Busfield was goign to be in? Matthew Perry, Nate Cordry, Bradley Whitford, AND Timothy Busfield? Thats hands down the greatest TV cast of all time. I could not possibly be more excited.
Exactly.
What the $#%#$ indeed.
Halle Berry has an Oscar. How did that happen? It’s one of the greatest and most senseless tragedies of our time. And yet so many people have forgotten it even occurred. But we must never forget or else it might happen again. In nearly every major city there have been Holocaust museums erected, and yet not a single Halle Berry Oscar museum exists. Well I may be only one man and I may not have the money to buy a museum, but I do have a little read obscure online blog with a strange name. And I will use the remaining few paragraphs or so of this week’s entry to make sure the WORLD never forgets.
In order to deal with this problem though we must first look at how it happened. Looking back it would seem people were fooled by her attractiveness into thinking she deserved an Oscar. But come on, do we really live world where an actor’s merit is determined not by their level of talent but by their physical attributes? I say we do not! I also say my mind operates on the level of a five year old’s.
So it must be something else that led to her Oscar win. But what? Well, when anything in life happens and it seems like there is a logical explanation for it but you’re too lazy to find out what that reason is then that can only mean one thing: It must have been a racial thing.
At that time a black woman had never won Best Actress before, and so her win was great day for black people everywhere. Her win wasn’t just a win for her, but for all black women everywhere. You see, she’s very black. She’s not like The Rock or Mariah Carey - the grand marshals of the People Of Indeterminate Ethic Origin Day Parade. Oh no, she’s as black as night. As black as the bruises David Justice gave her. As black as a KFC in Bed-Stuy.
Only one problem...
She’s half white.
Her freaking mother who was sitting next to her when she won was whiter than Lauren Ambrose. I don’t get why this was never mentioned. Why was all the coverage of her winning focused around the fact she was “black”? It would be like if Freddie Prinze Jr. won a Cable Ace Award and it was declared a great moment for the Hispanic community.
(Speaking of great moments for the Hispanic community, can someone shoot Carlos Mencia for me?)
So since she’s half white it must not have been an affirmative action thing. So what was it? Why DID Halle Berry win an Oscar?
The world may never know.
Which means it was proabaly Sadam Hussein's fault.
Now lets go invade Iraq.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The Coup
2.) The Greys Anatomy Finale
3.) Mario Live: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2139555376132383479&q=mario+live&pr=goog-sl
3 & 1/2.) "Further Evidence That Sports Center Has Lost All Connection to Reality": http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2006/5/10steele.html
Thought of the Week: Anyone else see the teaser ad for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? How did people forget to tell me Timothy Busfield was goign to be in? Matthew Perry, Nate Cordry, Bradley Whitford, AND Timothy Busfield? Thats hands down the greatest TV cast of all time. I could not possibly be more excited.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Standing In A Field With Keri Russell; or The 200 People You Meet In Hell
Now let me say for the record here that I do generally enjoy background work. Sure the first few times you do it you spend a good deal of the time contemplating the various ways in which you would be able to kill yourself. And sure maybe there have been a few times where in order to stay awake you consumed so much caffeine that you literally feared that your heart might explode. But you do it enough times and you get used to it and accept it for what it is – easy money doing a job that’s far better than your real job.
But sometimes you forget that.
Because sometimes it’s four in the morning and you’re outside in the freezing cold and you lost feeling in your toes at least an hour ago. And strangely its not the first time you’ve found yourself in this exact situation. And you look around you. And you listen around you. And you wonder if “listen around you” is a phrase that even makes any sense. And you start to think that maybe genocide might not be such a bad thing after all. And you realize that if that statement sounds crazy or outrageous to someone then that means that they’ve clearly never done extra work before. See, there’s a famous headline from The Onion that reads “Ill Try Anything With a Detached Air of Superiority”. And I think that perfectly sums up my forays into the glamorous world of extra work. It’s a world where people who, if given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in real life would probably throw it in the trash, literally stampede over each other with no regard for human life for the chance to spread off-brand peanut butter and something that slightly resembles jelly onto two-week-old Wonder Bread. It’s a world where the phrase “checking the gate” elicits screams of ecstasy the likes of which probably haven’t been heard anywhere else other than your Mom’s bedroom on the nights that I come over. It’s a world of immense glitz and glamour and one that demands of its participants many things. They must be able to be available at a moment’s notice to work a 12-hour day or a 12-hour night for very little money. They must be so desperate to be in the entertainment industry that they will agree to stand outside for six hours in horrific conditions with no break just so that they can be somewhere in the general proximity of a movie camera. They must have nothing better to do with their time than to serve as an insignificant human prop. And most importantly, they must have absolutely no life. As such, extra work draws a huge cross section of people to its siren song - from the pathetic, to the talentless, to the criminally insane. It brings together fecund cesspools of humanity the likes of which can’t be found anywhere else on Earth other than The Olive Garden. And there I am right in the middle of it all, clinging for dear life to what is the lowest rung of the showbiz ladder other than working for NBC. But I’m far from judging these people. Oh no, judging them was like so four hours ago. Now I’m on to classifying and categorizing them. Because while the locations and the projects change, the people stay the same. They are the people you meet in hell.
The First Timer: They’re bright and sunny. They’re happy to be there. Every little thing that happens is like a new adventure. Never before has filling out paperwork seemed like such a thrill. And eight hours from now you can pretty much guarantee that they will be lying on the ground in the fetal position weeping and thinking that even a slow painful death by asphyxiation would be preferable to this nightmare.
The Lifers: They’ve been doing this for AT LEAST ten years. They’re all in SAG but have never had more than five lines on any given project. They’re actors in the way that the guy that makes the sandwiches at your corner bodega is a chef. But yet they’re treated like deities by their fellow extras. They’re usually gathered together holding court for the newbies and regaling them with tales from the days of yore like that time Woody Allen let them be Police Man #1 on Hannah and Her Sisters. It would all be fascinating if it weren’t so very very sad.
The Guy Who Thinks He’s Hot Stuff: Perhaps in this context you may seem cool. But being the coolest background actor is a bit like being the coolest guy in a leper colony. Yes you may be the coolest guy in the colony, but you’re still a leper.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Want You To Know How Funny They Are: Shut Up.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Are Insane: Its like being on the subway except for you’re not getting off in three stops and you don’t have an iPod to drown it out.
The P.A. On A Power Trip: They’re my favorite and there’s always more than one of them. They’re the people who tell you what you’ve already been told by three other people but just in a much more forceful, confusing, and ridiculous way. Also, you know how you were standing in one place and then were told to move, only to be told later to return to exactly the same place? Well that was this person's doing. You should thank them on the way out. I find that the gift of a sense of self-worth is usually appropriate.
The Wide Eyed Clueless Newcomer: They are always inevitably talking to…
The Person Who Has No Idea What They Are Talking About: Usually can be identified by the fact that they have black and white headshots and are reading the print version of Backstage. They also have a B.A. from Bumblefuck U. and are inevitably appearing in Millennium Talent Group’s production of “Give Us Your Money”. And you can pretty much guarantee that “Happy Hour” is somewhere on their resume. And I’ve now officially lost 95% of my audience because they have no idea what I’m talking about. Great. Now my readership is now negative four people.
The Person Mugging For The Camera: “Hey look at me! I’m dancing on top of the car. I’m focusing on the action in the scene so hard that my eyebrows are moving more than Don Cheadle’s. I’m yelling so loud my voice is hoarse by the second take. I’m somehow standing right next to the star in every take. Wait, what do you mean ‘go back to holding’? Why is everyone else allowed to stay? And why are they all cheering?”
The Person Who Compares The Craft Service To The Craft Service Of Every Other Film They Have Been On: The craft service table has plain bagels? Well the craft service table on The Inside Man shoot had raisin bagels with lox and chives. You only get one kids sized Capri Sun to drink? Could be worse. On Love Monkey Tom Cavanaugh pissed in a cup and that was the only liquid available on set. They’re serving salmon and smoked turkey breast? Well on The Stepford Wives they had roasted duck with mango salsa. (And yes for the record that commercial has definitely run its course.)
The Person Who Came in From Far Away To Do This: If it took you more than an hour to get to the check-in place today you should just kill yourself right now. Trust me, it’s for the best.
The Person Who Complains About Everything: “Oh my God if I have to stand up for one more second I’m gonna fucking lose my mind. I can’t take this anymore. My body aint made to stand up for this long. What? I gotta sit down now?!? Aw, this is some BULLSHIT. I can’t believe this shit. Now I gotta sit down? Man this is fucking ridiculous. Next thing you know they’re gonna be saying all we gots to drink is Tom Cavanaugh’s piss in a cup.”
The Person Who Talks The Whole Time About How They Are Going To Leave: After every take they keep swearing that if they have to do that fucking scene one more time they are out of here. Which means you know for a fact that eight hours later they’ll still be there. Which is more than you can say for…
The Person Who Is Way Too Excited To Be There: “Oh my god Sally! Guess where I am? I am on the set of a MOVIE! I know, isn’t that crazy? There are like movie stars here and everything. Ohmygod, OHMYGOD, I think I see Robin Williams right over there!!! I’m gonna go tell him what I big fan I am. I know he’ll appreciate hearing that. As soon they yell cut I'll just scream out his name. Wont he just LOVE that?!? This is so exciting!!! Ill call you back later Sally and give you the whole scoop. Laters.”
The Person Who Is Sucking Up To The Casting People: “Hey Chuck! How’s it goin? How are Amy and little Samantha? How old is she now anyway? How has the shoot been going so far? Oh yea? That’s funny! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh Chuck you’re the best. I’ll see you later. I want you inside me. Oh hey…from before…”
The Person Who Thinks This Is Somehow Helping Their Career: Its not.
The 40 Year Old Who Is Just Beginning Their Career: The list of guarantees in life is a short one. Death. Taxes. Having a daily encounter with the 6 train mariachi band. And most important among those is the fact that any person 40 years or older who is just beginning their acting career is a terrible actor. They are also usually bat shit insane.
The 40 Year Old Who Is In Denial About Their Age: Their hair is dyed. Those clothes are way too small for them. They keep checking their compact every ten seconds. They’re tan and it’s the middle of January. Yes that’s right it’s an attack of the MIWNLTFBSLLSSOSTC (Mom I Would Not Like To Fuck Because She Looks Like Some Sort Of Strange Troll Creature)
The 40 Year Old Virgin: A wildly overrated movie.
The Person Who Not So Subtly Wants To Tell You About Their Career: A slight variation on the “Person Who Not So Subtly Want To Tell You How Drunk They Were Last Night”. You remember that person from high school or freshman year of college right? Your conversations would always go something like this:
You: “Do you if it’s going to rain today?”
Them: “It was going to rain last night, when I was drunk”
Or
You: “What’s two plus two?”
Them: “How should I know? I got wasted last night.”
Well this person is just like that only far more annoying. I think its no exaggeration to say this encompasses about 80% of the people you’ll encounter while doing extra work. You listen to them drone on about their career and you just want to stop them and say, “You’re doing fucking extra work. Your career cant be going that well or you wouldn’t fucking be here. So shut the hell up.” And no, hearing a complete stranger talk about themselves to me for 20 minutes doesn’t make me the least bit hostile. And yes, actors are without a shadow of a doubt the most annoying people on the face of the earth. And no I don’t know why you’re friends with me either.
I’m sure I’m leaving people out but I think that provides a pretty decent list for whoever the next evil dictator is who wants to start an “ethnic cleansing” type program. That should give them a nice reference sheet for the types of people they need to round up. And if you ever do extra work in the future keep an eye out for these people, I promise you'll be there.
Also, while I’m here I think it’s worth noting that Keri Russell is a very, very tiny woman.
And I'm pretty sure I just accidentally touched her ass.
But sometimes you forget that.
Because sometimes it’s four in the morning and you’re outside in the freezing cold and you lost feeling in your toes at least an hour ago. And strangely its not the first time you’ve found yourself in this exact situation. And you look around you. And you listen around you. And you wonder if “listen around you” is a phrase that even makes any sense. And you start to think that maybe genocide might not be such a bad thing after all. And you realize that if that statement sounds crazy or outrageous to someone then that means that they’ve clearly never done extra work before. See, there’s a famous headline from The Onion that reads “Ill Try Anything With a Detached Air of Superiority”. And I think that perfectly sums up my forays into the glamorous world of extra work. It’s a world where people who, if given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in real life would probably throw it in the trash, literally stampede over each other with no regard for human life for the chance to spread off-brand peanut butter and something that slightly resembles jelly onto two-week-old Wonder Bread. It’s a world where the phrase “checking the gate” elicits screams of ecstasy the likes of which probably haven’t been heard anywhere else other than your Mom’s bedroom on the nights that I come over. It’s a world of immense glitz and glamour and one that demands of its participants many things. They must be able to be available at a moment’s notice to work a 12-hour day or a 12-hour night for very little money. They must be so desperate to be in the entertainment industry that they will agree to stand outside for six hours in horrific conditions with no break just so that they can be somewhere in the general proximity of a movie camera. They must have nothing better to do with their time than to serve as an insignificant human prop. And most importantly, they must have absolutely no life. As such, extra work draws a huge cross section of people to its siren song - from the pathetic, to the talentless, to the criminally insane. It brings together fecund cesspools of humanity the likes of which can’t be found anywhere else on Earth other than The Olive Garden. And there I am right in the middle of it all, clinging for dear life to what is the lowest rung of the showbiz ladder other than working for NBC. But I’m far from judging these people. Oh no, judging them was like so four hours ago. Now I’m on to classifying and categorizing them. Because while the locations and the projects change, the people stay the same. They are the people you meet in hell.
The First Timer: They’re bright and sunny. They’re happy to be there. Every little thing that happens is like a new adventure. Never before has filling out paperwork seemed like such a thrill. And eight hours from now you can pretty much guarantee that they will be lying on the ground in the fetal position weeping and thinking that even a slow painful death by asphyxiation would be preferable to this nightmare.
The Lifers: They’ve been doing this for AT LEAST ten years. They’re all in SAG but have never had more than five lines on any given project. They’re actors in the way that the guy that makes the sandwiches at your corner bodega is a chef. But yet they’re treated like deities by their fellow extras. They’re usually gathered together holding court for the newbies and regaling them with tales from the days of yore like that time Woody Allen let them be Police Man #1 on Hannah and Her Sisters. It would all be fascinating if it weren’t so very very sad.
The Guy Who Thinks He’s Hot Stuff: Perhaps in this context you may seem cool. But being the coolest background actor is a bit like being the coolest guy in a leper colony. Yes you may be the coolest guy in the colony, but you’re still a leper.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Want You To Know How Funny They Are: Shut Up.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Are Insane: Its like being on the subway except for you’re not getting off in three stops and you don’t have an iPod to drown it out.
The P.A. On A Power Trip: They’re my favorite and there’s always more than one of them. They’re the people who tell you what you’ve already been told by three other people but just in a much more forceful, confusing, and ridiculous way. Also, you know how you were standing in one place and then were told to move, only to be told later to return to exactly the same place? Well that was this person's doing. You should thank them on the way out. I find that the gift of a sense of self-worth is usually appropriate.
The Wide Eyed Clueless Newcomer: They are always inevitably talking to…
The Person Who Has No Idea What They Are Talking About: Usually can be identified by the fact that they have black and white headshots and are reading the print version of Backstage. They also have a B.A. from Bumblefuck U. and are inevitably appearing in Millennium Talent Group’s production of “Give Us Your Money”. And you can pretty much guarantee that “Happy Hour” is somewhere on their resume. And I’ve now officially lost 95% of my audience because they have no idea what I’m talking about. Great. Now my readership is now negative four people.
The Person Mugging For The Camera: “Hey look at me! I’m dancing on top of the car. I’m focusing on the action in the scene so hard that my eyebrows are moving more than Don Cheadle’s. I’m yelling so loud my voice is hoarse by the second take. I’m somehow standing right next to the star in every take. Wait, what do you mean ‘go back to holding’? Why is everyone else allowed to stay? And why are they all cheering?”
The Person Who Compares The Craft Service To The Craft Service Of Every Other Film They Have Been On: The craft service table has plain bagels? Well the craft service table on The Inside Man shoot had raisin bagels with lox and chives. You only get one kids sized Capri Sun to drink? Could be worse. On Love Monkey Tom Cavanaugh pissed in a cup and that was the only liquid available on set. They’re serving salmon and smoked turkey breast? Well on The Stepford Wives they had roasted duck with mango salsa. (And yes for the record that commercial has definitely run its course.)
The Person Who Came in From Far Away To Do This: If it took you more than an hour to get to the check-in place today you should just kill yourself right now. Trust me, it’s for the best.
The Person Who Complains About Everything: “Oh my God if I have to stand up for one more second I’m gonna fucking lose my mind. I can’t take this anymore. My body aint made to stand up for this long. What? I gotta sit down now?!? Aw, this is some BULLSHIT. I can’t believe this shit. Now I gotta sit down? Man this is fucking ridiculous. Next thing you know they’re gonna be saying all we gots to drink is Tom Cavanaugh’s piss in a cup.”
The Person Who Talks The Whole Time About How They Are Going To Leave: After every take they keep swearing that if they have to do that fucking scene one more time they are out of here. Which means you know for a fact that eight hours later they’ll still be there. Which is more than you can say for…
The Person Who Is Way Too Excited To Be There: “Oh my god Sally! Guess where I am? I am on the set of a MOVIE! I know, isn’t that crazy? There are like movie stars here and everything. Ohmygod, OHMYGOD, I think I see Robin Williams right over there!!! I’m gonna go tell him what I big fan I am. I know he’ll appreciate hearing that. As soon they yell cut I'll just scream out his name. Wont he just LOVE that?!? This is so exciting!!! Ill call you back later Sally and give you the whole scoop. Laters.”
The Person Who Is Sucking Up To The Casting People: “Hey Chuck! How’s it goin? How are Amy and little Samantha? How old is she now anyway? How has the shoot been going so far? Oh yea? That’s funny! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh Chuck you’re the best. I’ll see you later. I want you inside me. Oh hey…from before…”
The Person Who Thinks This Is Somehow Helping Their Career: Its not.
The 40 Year Old Who Is Just Beginning Their Career: The list of guarantees in life is a short one. Death. Taxes. Having a daily encounter with the 6 train mariachi band. And most important among those is the fact that any person 40 years or older who is just beginning their acting career is a terrible actor. They are also usually bat shit insane.
The 40 Year Old Who Is In Denial About Their Age: Their hair is dyed. Those clothes are way too small for them. They keep checking their compact every ten seconds. They’re tan and it’s the middle of January. Yes that’s right it’s an attack of the MIWNLTFBSLLSSOSTC (Mom I Would Not Like To Fuck Because She Looks Like Some Sort Of Strange Troll Creature)
The 40 Year Old Virgin: A wildly overrated movie.
The Person Who Not So Subtly Wants To Tell You About Their Career: A slight variation on the “Person Who Not So Subtly Want To Tell You How Drunk They Were Last Night”. You remember that person from high school or freshman year of college right? Your conversations would always go something like this:
You: “Do you if it’s going to rain today?”
Them: “It was going to rain last night, when I was drunk”
Or
You: “What’s two plus two?”
Them: “How should I know? I got wasted last night.”
Well this person is just like that only far more annoying. I think its no exaggeration to say this encompasses about 80% of the people you’ll encounter while doing extra work. You listen to them drone on about their career and you just want to stop them and say, “You’re doing fucking extra work. Your career cant be going that well or you wouldn’t fucking be here. So shut the hell up.” And no, hearing a complete stranger talk about themselves to me for 20 minutes doesn’t make me the least bit hostile. And yes, actors are without a shadow of a doubt the most annoying people on the face of the earth. And no I don’t know why you’re friends with me either.
I’m sure I’m leaving people out but I think that provides a pretty decent list for whoever the next evil dictator is who wants to start an “ethnic cleansing” type program. That should give them a nice reference sheet for the types of people they need to round up. And if you ever do extra work in the future keep an eye out for these people, I promise you'll be there.
Also, while I’m here I think it’s worth noting that Keri Russell is a very, very tiny woman.
And I'm pretty sure I just accidentally touched her ass.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Note From the Author and More Random Thoughts
Four and a half years ago, like many guys my age I moved to New York in hopes of finding fame, fortune, and someone to teach me how to play R&B/Blues guitar. Well in my first week in the city I found neither fame nor fortune, but I did find that Dan Smith could teach me how to play guitar. And I had every intention of taking him up on that offer, but in between the planes crashing and the buildings falling and the trying to figure out excatly how to define that smell in the 51st Street subway station, I got kind of sidetracked. And the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years and next thing I knew I was a New Yorker with places to be and people to see and fame and fortune to acquire. Only problem was the fame and fortune were harder to acquire than it seemed. So I did what every single human being on the face of the Earth did and started a blog. It kept me entertained and stimulated, but somehow through some terrible fluke or accident or some kind fame and fortune still managed to allude me. And so I got a real job and I discovered the magical world of credit cards and pretended that everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine. I needed a change And so a few weeks ago I did the unthinkable. I left Manhattan and moved to Queens. It was new start and it was a great one. But in between the moving and the working and the complaining about the working and the continuing evasiveness of fame and fortune I thought maybe there was no place in this new world, this magical land of Astoria Queens, for fredtheonlinejournal. And so I was all set to shut it down, when a savior came in the most unexpected way. At a party I shouldn’t even have been at, a person I barely knew came up and told me how much he enjoyed the blog and to keep up the good work. Well now I couldn’t let down my fan could I? And so the next day, in the land of souvlaki, gyros, and Mythos beer, the world headquarters of Fredtheonlinejournal opened for business once again. And with renewed vigor thoughts and words flew out of it. And while fame and fortune continued to elude me I was back to my roots and back where I belonged – wasting ridiculous amounts of time writing about crap that absolutely no one else cared about. And life was good.
Now I know what you’re asking yourself: “when will this ridiculously long intro end?” And also, “enough about you, what does this have to do with me?” Well what this means for you is that there will be regular articles again. And frequent posts. And it also serves as an explanation for my absence. But never fear. There will be no more absences. (At least not until I change my mind again.) So for now enjoy some of the random thoughts I had while on hiatus. And tell your friends about them. And maybe one day I'll have fame. And fortune. And Dan Smith will finally be able to teach me how to play R&B/Blues guitar.
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* So wait, I’m confused, is Larry a Cable Guy or a Health Inspector?
* Ever noticed how in college you can study “liberal arts” or major in “liberal studies” but there’s no such thing as “conservative arts” or “conservative studies”?
* I think It’s difficult to know anyone who’s really worth knowing.
* I saw an episode of NBC’s version of The Office recently and despite all odds it was actually really good. In fact I thought it was on par in its own way with the BBC version. Granted it was only one episode but apparently its been getting really good reviews recently overall. Who’d have thunk? I might even have to start watching it. And maybe you should too.
* On a semi-related note, can someone let Ricky Gervais know that no one cares about The Simpsons anymore?
* Since I know (or at least I hope) that there are a lot of Aaron Sorkin fans that read this blog, I feel I should say a few words about Sports Night. And the words are this: Watch It. Sure its not as good as West Wing, and sure at times the writing’s a little unpolished and Sorkin’s still finding his way, and sure other than Felicity Huffman the acting isn’t by any means stellar, and sure the episodes Sorkin didn’t write or only wrote parts of are pretty obvious, and sure the relationships on the show aren’t really believable, but still, its Aaron Sorkin and its better than 95% of shows that there have ever been. Which is why it’s a shame its so under recognized. The West Wing is huge and yet fewer people have seen Sports Night than have seen Freaks and Geeks. (Which if you haven’t seen yet, should be first on your priority list). The argument I hear most often for not watching it is – “I don’t like/care about sports”. But it’s not really about sports at all. That would be like not watching Grey’s Anatomy because you’re not really into medicine. Just give it a chance. Go to Blockbuster or Netflix, check it out, watch the whole first disc, and if you’re not hooked I’ll give you your money back. It takes a few episodes to get going so hang in there at first. And yes the laugh track does go away very soon. But it has a lot to offer. Great likeable characters (it even manages to make Peter Krause seem semi-talented and likeable – no small feat). Engaging story lines. A guest appearance by the incomparable Janel Moloney. The obvious seeds of what would become the West Wing (including an entire episode about everyone’s plans being held up by an old guy who refused to lose a tennis match that was recycled almost exactly by The West Wing) Amazing, astounding, too good for words to describe-level work by Felicity Huffman. And most importantly - great, clever writing. And did I mention Felicity Huffman? So give Sports Night a shot; I wouldn’t steer you wrong.
(On a related note: noticing the jump in quality from Sports Night to West Wing has me off the charts excited to see if Sorkin will make a similar level jump with Studio 60 on Sunset Strip. And even though that seems impossible, early indications are that he actually might. I remember hearing about its pilot script being the hottest thing in Hollywood almost a year ago. And every report from everyone who has come across it has said it’s by far the best TV pilot they’ve ever read. And now Matthew Perry is attached to star. And never before have an actor and writer been more perfectly suited for each other than Matthew Perry and Aaron Sorkin. They make Martin Scorsese and Robert DeNiro look like the odd couple. So long story short, my expectations and anticipation for Studio 60 on Sunset Strip couldn’t be any higher. Well unless of course it was called Snakes on a Plane. But more on that later…)
* While we’re talking about Aaron Sorkin, here are a few brief thoughts on Season 3 of The West Wing. Humor me. Or just skip right past them. Either way here they are:
-Wow they got Al Pacino to be on the show! Oh wait…that’s just Ron Silver.
-Too many new characters are starting to stretch things a bit thin.
-Story lines are starting to get dropped. Like what ever happened to Donna’s man? And to Bruno and his crew?
-The scene between Josh and Amy in “Women of Kumar” is probably my favorite scene from any TV show/and or movie ever. There are no words to describe its brilliance.
-Okay, how could Bartlett not win reelection in a landslide? I don’t really buy that there could be anyone in this fictional America who wouldn’t like him.
-While talking about implausibility, Bartlett’s comment about Ritchie is the first legitimately implausible thing the show has tried to pull off.
-Amy Gardner listens to Van Morrison. Its official, she’s the most perfect woman ever.
-How could something this smart have gotten such high ratings? I really don’t understand.
-What happened to Charlie and Zoey? Are they still dating? Is Zoey even still alive? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just asking.
-If I could own anything in the world, I would want the actual framed napkin prop they used in “Bartlett for America”. I sincerely hope it still exists somewhere so that I can get rich someday and buy it.
* If you wear a hat to the gym, you’re just tacky. But if you wear a Von Dutch hat to the gym, you have no worth as a human being.
* Im pissed. Amelie Gillette (aka "The Hater") of The Onion's AV Club stole my dream day job.
* Have you heard the new R. Kelly song? The one with the line “It’s like Jurassic Park/ and I’m your Sexosaurus”? I don’t even know what to say about R. Kelly anymore. I mean what can you possibly say at this point? I’m literally speechless. I only hope he realizes that he just barely missed the Pulitzer deadline, so he’ll have to wait almost a whole year before he can collect his award.
* There are few words in the English language more fun than “bouillon”. Between “bouillon” and “doubloons” pirates have really made some of the best contributions to the English language. See I told you pirates arrrrr awesome.
* You know that person who you barely know and were never even really formally introduced to but whenever you see them they always act like you’re best friends and assault you with long pointless stories that only serve to embarrass themselves, but instead of telling them to shut up and go away you just tune them out and nod occasionally to give the appearance that you’re listening? I feel like that’s America’s relationship with Eva Longoria.
* I’m glad to see that Cinco De Mayo is becoming the new St. Patrick’s Day. It really brings me immeasurable joy that there are now two culturally acceptable mainstream holidays whose sole reason for being is to give people a valid excuse to get as drunk as humanly possible. And absolutely no one has a problem with this. At all. It’s times like this when I remember how much I love America.
(And yes I realize both days are technically foreign holidays, but that almost makes it better. It shows that we Americans know how to adopt the very best parts of other cultures and make them our own.)
* I think it’s interesting to consider the fact that the Arts and Entertainment sections of many papers are called “Life” or “Lifestyle”. In the words of Outkast, go and marinate on that for a minute.
* Just for the record, I had “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley on my iPod over two months ago. And yes, now I understand the whole “get mad and defensive when something you like goes too mainstream” phenomenon. On the flip side though we haven’t a good legitimate universal “song of the summer” in far too long.
* As much as I may love them, I think we can probably safely add Peeps to the list of things that human beings were clearly not intended to consume.
* Yes Bill Maher can be kind of smug prick. And sure, he’s not that likeable. It yes, he is clearly extremely chauvinistic. And no, it’s not at all surprising to learn that he’s not married. And basically he’s a pretty hard guy to defend in any way. But that being said, the first and last 10 minutes of any given Real Time With Bill Maher are almost assured to be 20 of the best minutes anywhere on TV in any given week. So I guess in its own way its almost exactly like Grey’s Anatomy.
* “The Call” on NY1 is clearly the work of Satan. And yes, maybe I care a little too much about NY1 but what can I say? It’s the only local news worth watching.
* I feel sure that it’s no coincidence that the demise of E! News Live has directly coincided with the demise of America. Ryan Seacrest and Julianna DePandi are clearly the George Bush to Jules Anser and Steve Kmetko’s Bill Clinton.
Wow, I really need to get out more.
(While were on the topic, how is more not made out of the fact that Steven Soderbergh is married to Jules Asner? Or that Jules Asner is married to Steven Soderbergh? Either way you look at it it’s a great story and more should be made of it.)
* I think whenever someone says, “all I want is honesty” that’s a pretty good sign that they’re lying.
"In a million years, did you ever think this would happen? One decade ago, I didn't even have an e-mail address or know what the Internet was ... now I can watch basically any video clip I want whenever I want? What will the world be like 10 years from now? Is it possible to procrastinate for 24 hours a day? Are we headed that way?"
(Editors Note: Yes.)
* Who are these people who aren’t ready for United 93 and claim it’s too soon? It was four and a half years ago! How can you not be ready? If you’re not ready now when exactly WILL you be ready? Did you have a problem with them making Pearl Harbor? If all the families have approved and say they’re okay with it then who are you to say its “too soon”? And why is it acceptable for you to force movie theaters to stop showing the trailer because it’s too traumatic for you to sit through? It’s a fucking movie trailer people. Seriously, I don’t know why this is considered tolerable acceptable behavior. Far be it for me to judge how people should handle tragedy; I know its something personal and we all deal with it in our own way. If you don’t want to see the movie, that’s fine. But if the trailer for United 93 comes on and you audibly yell at the screen “too soon” or complain afterwards to the management, you’re not grieving or traumatized, you’re insane.
And this isn’t the last you’ll be hearing from me about this…
* True story: a few months back I was about halfway through writing a complete March Madness preview when my computer crashed, taking the document with it. I was so pissed off that I just gave up and didn’t bother rewriting it. But if you don’t think I’m still upset that I didn’t get a chance to make jokes about an event that featured Adam Morrison’s mustache, a guy named Kevin Pitsnoggle, and a team called the Wichita State Shockers, then clearly you don’t know me very well.
* If I wrote Jessica Shaw’s Hot List for Entertainment Weekly:
In: Snakes On A Plane
5 Minutes Ago: Chuck Norris
Out: “Lazy Sunday”
Which bring us to our last item….
* You might recall that back in November I asked whether or not a film had ever won Best Picture before a trailer for it had even been released because if not then Munich would be the first. Well I was wrong about Munich but I will ask the same question and make the same prediction again, only this time about a different film. An that film is Snakes on a Plane. The others studios should just give up right now. Snakes on a Plane has Best Picture sewn up. Because not only is Snakes on a Plane the greatest thing to ever happen to movies, and to the internet, it’s maybe the greatest thing to ever happen to humanity in the history of the Earth. I honestly don’t think it would be humanly possible to be any more aboard the Snakes on a Plane bandwagon than I already am. I already have Snakes on a Plane references up in my home. I recently ordered a Snakes on a Plane shirt. As soon as tickets go on sale I will buy them for opening night. (And if its not showing at The Zeigfeld there is something very wrong with the world.) And if they could somehow get Chuck Norris to make a cameo it would seriously be the greatest movie moment in history. The earth might literally stop spinning on its axis because of how fucking awesome that would be. And if you think I’m joking about any of this, well I’m not. If you were here right now you could see how completely serious I am. And you want to know something else? You know how people say something is the greatest thing since sliced bread? Well soon they’re going to start referring to things as the greatest thing since Snakes on a Plane. So you better get on board. The bandwagon that is. Definitely not the plane. Because as you might have heard, THERE ARE SNAKES ON IT!
Top 3 & 1/2 Snakes on a Plane Sequel Titles
Snakes on a Plane II: More Snakes On Another Plane
Snakes on a Plane II: Bears On A Plane
Snakes on a Plane II: Snakes On A Plain Bagel
Snakes on a Plane II: Snakes On A Boat
(And of course there’s the obligatory “Snakes On A Plane II: Electric Bugaloo”)
* My idol Bill Simmons is referring specifically to YouTube.com here but he is in general referring to the entire Internet. And as always I couldn't have said it better myself. Which is why Im letting him say it:
Now I know what you’re asking yourself: “when will this ridiculously long intro end?” And also, “enough about you, what does this have to do with me?” Well what this means for you is that there will be regular articles again. And frequent posts. And it also serves as an explanation for my absence. But never fear. There will be no more absences. (At least not until I change my mind again.) So for now enjoy some of the random thoughts I had while on hiatus. And tell your friends about them. And maybe one day I'll have fame. And fortune. And Dan Smith will finally be able to teach me how to play R&B/Blues guitar.
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* So wait, I’m confused, is Larry a Cable Guy or a Health Inspector?
* Ever noticed how in college you can study “liberal arts” or major in “liberal studies” but there’s no such thing as “conservative arts” or “conservative studies”?
* I think It’s difficult to know anyone who’s really worth knowing.
* I saw an episode of NBC’s version of The Office recently and despite all odds it was actually really good. In fact I thought it was on par in its own way with the BBC version. Granted it was only one episode but apparently its been getting really good reviews recently overall. Who’d have thunk? I might even have to start watching it. And maybe you should too.
* On a semi-related note, can someone let Ricky Gervais know that no one cares about The Simpsons anymore?
* Since I know (or at least I hope) that there are a lot of Aaron Sorkin fans that read this blog, I feel I should say a few words about Sports Night. And the words are this: Watch It. Sure its not as good as West Wing, and sure at times the writing’s a little unpolished and Sorkin’s still finding his way, and sure other than Felicity Huffman the acting isn’t by any means stellar, and sure the episodes Sorkin didn’t write or only wrote parts of are pretty obvious, and sure the relationships on the show aren’t really believable, but still, its Aaron Sorkin and its better than 95% of shows that there have ever been. Which is why it’s a shame its so under recognized. The West Wing is huge and yet fewer people have seen Sports Night than have seen Freaks and Geeks. (Which if you haven’t seen yet, should be first on your priority list). The argument I hear most often for not watching it is – “I don’t like/care about sports”. But it’s not really about sports at all. That would be like not watching Grey’s Anatomy because you’re not really into medicine. Just give it a chance. Go to Blockbuster or Netflix, check it out, watch the whole first disc, and if you’re not hooked I’ll give you your money back. It takes a few episodes to get going so hang in there at first. And yes the laugh track does go away very soon. But it has a lot to offer. Great likeable characters (it even manages to make Peter Krause seem semi-talented and likeable – no small feat). Engaging story lines. A guest appearance by the incomparable Janel Moloney. The obvious seeds of what would become the West Wing (including an entire episode about everyone’s plans being held up by an old guy who refused to lose a tennis match that was recycled almost exactly by The West Wing) Amazing, astounding, too good for words to describe-level work by Felicity Huffman. And most importantly - great, clever writing. And did I mention Felicity Huffman? So give Sports Night a shot; I wouldn’t steer you wrong.
(On a related note: noticing the jump in quality from Sports Night to West Wing has me off the charts excited to see if Sorkin will make a similar level jump with Studio 60 on Sunset Strip. And even though that seems impossible, early indications are that he actually might. I remember hearing about its pilot script being the hottest thing in Hollywood almost a year ago. And every report from everyone who has come across it has said it’s by far the best TV pilot they’ve ever read. And now Matthew Perry is attached to star. And never before have an actor and writer been more perfectly suited for each other than Matthew Perry and Aaron Sorkin. They make Martin Scorsese and Robert DeNiro look like the odd couple. So long story short, my expectations and anticipation for Studio 60 on Sunset Strip couldn’t be any higher. Well unless of course it was called Snakes on a Plane. But more on that later…)
* While we’re talking about Aaron Sorkin, here are a few brief thoughts on Season 3 of The West Wing. Humor me. Or just skip right past them. Either way here they are:
-Wow they got Al Pacino to be on the show! Oh wait…that’s just Ron Silver.
-Too many new characters are starting to stretch things a bit thin.
-Story lines are starting to get dropped. Like what ever happened to Donna’s man? And to Bruno and his crew?
-The scene between Josh and Amy in “Women of Kumar” is probably my favorite scene from any TV show/and or movie ever. There are no words to describe its brilliance.
-Okay, how could Bartlett not win reelection in a landslide? I don’t really buy that there could be anyone in this fictional America who wouldn’t like him.
-While talking about implausibility, Bartlett’s comment about Ritchie is the first legitimately implausible thing the show has tried to pull off.
-Amy Gardner listens to Van Morrison. Its official, she’s the most perfect woman ever.
-How could something this smart have gotten such high ratings? I really don’t understand.
-What happened to Charlie and Zoey? Are they still dating? Is Zoey even still alive? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just asking.
-If I could own anything in the world, I would want the actual framed napkin prop they used in “Bartlett for America”. I sincerely hope it still exists somewhere so that I can get rich someday and buy it.
* If you wear a hat to the gym, you’re just tacky. But if you wear a Von Dutch hat to the gym, you have no worth as a human being.
* Im pissed. Amelie Gillette (aka "The Hater") of The Onion's AV Club stole my dream day job.
* Have you heard the new R. Kelly song? The one with the line “It’s like Jurassic Park/ and I’m your Sexosaurus”? I don’t even know what to say about R. Kelly anymore. I mean what can you possibly say at this point? I’m literally speechless. I only hope he realizes that he just barely missed the Pulitzer deadline, so he’ll have to wait almost a whole year before he can collect his award.
* There are few words in the English language more fun than “bouillon”. Between “bouillon” and “doubloons” pirates have really made some of the best contributions to the English language. See I told you pirates arrrrr awesome.
* You know that person who you barely know and were never even really formally introduced to but whenever you see them they always act like you’re best friends and assault you with long pointless stories that only serve to embarrass themselves, but instead of telling them to shut up and go away you just tune them out and nod occasionally to give the appearance that you’re listening? I feel like that’s America’s relationship with Eva Longoria.
* I’m glad to see that Cinco De Mayo is becoming the new St. Patrick’s Day. It really brings me immeasurable joy that there are now two culturally acceptable mainstream holidays whose sole reason for being is to give people a valid excuse to get as drunk as humanly possible. And absolutely no one has a problem with this. At all. It’s times like this when I remember how much I love America.
(And yes I realize both days are technically foreign holidays, but that almost makes it better. It shows that we Americans know how to adopt the very best parts of other cultures and make them our own.)
* I think it’s interesting to consider the fact that the Arts and Entertainment sections of many papers are called “Life” or “Lifestyle”. In the words of Outkast, go and marinate on that for a minute.
* Just for the record, I had “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley on my iPod over two months ago. And yes, now I understand the whole “get mad and defensive when something you like goes too mainstream” phenomenon. On the flip side though we haven’t a good legitimate universal “song of the summer” in far too long.
* As much as I may love them, I think we can probably safely add Peeps to the list of things that human beings were clearly not intended to consume.
* Yes Bill Maher can be kind of smug prick. And sure, he’s not that likeable. It yes, he is clearly extremely chauvinistic. And no, it’s not at all surprising to learn that he’s not married. And basically he’s a pretty hard guy to defend in any way. But that being said, the first and last 10 minutes of any given Real Time With Bill Maher are almost assured to be 20 of the best minutes anywhere on TV in any given week. So I guess in its own way its almost exactly like Grey’s Anatomy.
* “The Call” on NY1 is clearly the work of Satan. And yes, maybe I care a little too much about NY1 but what can I say? It’s the only local news worth watching.
* I feel sure that it’s no coincidence that the demise of E! News Live has directly coincided with the demise of America. Ryan Seacrest and Julianna DePandi are clearly the George Bush to Jules Anser and Steve Kmetko’s Bill Clinton.
Wow, I really need to get out more.
(While were on the topic, how is more not made out of the fact that Steven Soderbergh is married to Jules Asner? Or that Jules Asner is married to Steven Soderbergh? Either way you look at it it’s a great story and more should be made of it.)
* I think whenever someone says, “all I want is honesty” that’s a pretty good sign that they’re lying.
"In a million years, did you ever think this would happen? One decade ago, I didn't even have an e-mail address or know what the Internet was ... now I can watch basically any video clip I want whenever I want? What will the world be like 10 years from now? Is it possible to procrastinate for 24 hours a day? Are we headed that way?"
(Editors Note: Yes.)
* Who are these people who aren’t ready for United 93 and claim it’s too soon? It was four and a half years ago! How can you not be ready? If you’re not ready now when exactly WILL you be ready? Did you have a problem with them making Pearl Harbor? If all the families have approved and say they’re okay with it then who are you to say its “too soon”? And why is it acceptable for you to force movie theaters to stop showing the trailer because it’s too traumatic for you to sit through? It’s a fucking movie trailer people. Seriously, I don’t know why this is considered tolerable acceptable behavior. Far be it for me to judge how people should handle tragedy; I know its something personal and we all deal with it in our own way. If you don’t want to see the movie, that’s fine. But if the trailer for United 93 comes on and you audibly yell at the screen “too soon” or complain afterwards to the management, you’re not grieving or traumatized, you’re insane.
And this isn’t the last you’ll be hearing from me about this…
* True story: a few months back I was about halfway through writing a complete March Madness preview when my computer crashed, taking the document with it. I was so pissed off that I just gave up and didn’t bother rewriting it. But if you don’t think I’m still upset that I didn’t get a chance to make jokes about an event that featured Adam Morrison’s mustache, a guy named Kevin Pitsnoggle, and a team called the Wichita State Shockers, then clearly you don’t know me very well.
* If I wrote Jessica Shaw’s Hot List for Entertainment Weekly:
In: Snakes On A Plane
5 Minutes Ago: Chuck Norris
Out: “Lazy Sunday”
Which bring us to our last item….
* You might recall that back in November I asked whether or not a film had ever won Best Picture before a trailer for it had even been released because if not then Munich would be the first. Well I was wrong about Munich but I will ask the same question and make the same prediction again, only this time about a different film. An that film is Snakes on a Plane. The others studios should just give up right now. Snakes on a Plane has Best Picture sewn up. Because not only is Snakes on a Plane the greatest thing to ever happen to movies, and to the internet, it’s maybe the greatest thing to ever happen to humanity in the history of the Earth. I honestly don’t think it would be humanly possible to be any more aboard the Snakes on a Plane bandwagon than I already am. I already have Snakes on a Plane references up in my home. I recently ordered a Snakes on a Plane shirt. As soon as tickets go on sale I will buy them for opening night. (And if its not showing at The Zeigfeld there is something very wrong with the world.) And if they could somehow get Chuck Norris to make a cameo it would seriously be the greatest movie moment in history. The earth might literally stop spinning on its axis because of how fucking awesome that would be. And if you think I’m joking about any of this, well I’m not. If you were here right now you could see how completely serious I am. And you want to know something else? You know how people say something is the greatest thing since sliced bread? Well soon they’re going to start referring to things as the greatest thing since Snakes on a Plane. So you better get on board. The bandwagon that is. Definitely not the plane. Because as you might have heard, THERE ARE SNAKES ON IT!
Top 3 & 1/2 Snakes on a Plane Sequel Titles
Snakes on a Plane II: More Snakes On Another Plane
Snakes on a Plane II: Bears On A Plane
Snakes on a Plane II: Snakes On A Plain Bagel
Snakes on a Plane II: Snakes On A Boat
(And of course there’s the obligatory “Snakes On A Plane II: Electric Bugaloo”)
* My idol Bill Simmons is referring specifically to YouTube.com here but he is in general referring to the entire Internet. And as always I couldn't have said it better myself. Which is why Im letting him say it:
Friday, April 14, 2006
My Friend The Man
I'm not dead I promise. Youll be getting a full Note From the Author very soon. I wanted to type it tonight but since Im going on about 12 hours of sleep over the last 4 nights combined I really am just not feeling up to it at the moment. But soon. I promise. I swear on the grave of Matt LeBlanc's career that there will be tons of new entries soon. But in the meantime, here's a piece about my job that I wrote a while back for the zine 20-Sided Die. I know I said I would never delve into my personal life in this blog, but in the words of Shakespeare "fuck it". Plus a lot of you have probably already read it anyway. Enjoy.
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My Friend The Man
As a world famous actor/waiter people often have many questions for me. For example- “who are you?” “why are you touching me?” and “what’s that smell?” But probably the most common question I get asked is “what’s it like to work for The Man?” You see I’m not just any waiter, but I’m a waiter who works for a large faceless restaurant corporation that has a location in Times Square. As I don’t want to lose my job, I think it is probably best I not mention this restaurant by name, but suffice it to say that it is very large and prominent and serves a lot of seafood. Also, as I mentioned, it is run by The Man. And not The Man in the Samuel L. Jackson/Eugene Levy sense, but The Man in the “Damn The Man” sense.
Anyway, thing is, as a recent college graduate with no discernable skills other than dressing up in funny clothes and pretending to be other people, I had no choice but to submit to my fate as a walking cliché and sign up to wait tables for The Man. Which leads us back to the question at hand – what is it like to work for him? Well, so far I haven’t had to do any TPS reports. Or file things. Or personally harm any cute puppies or rainbows or Dakota Fanning. But I have had to ask movie trivia questions to foreign tourists who have a Bush-level of English language comprehension. And I do have to ask if you want fries with that. And I seriously can’t find my stapler.
But on the other hand, he does pay me well, and sometimes when I pass by with a tray full of food I could swear I feel his hand gently caress my left buttock letting me know that I’m loved and appreciated. Or maybe I’m thinking of prison.
In all honesty though, I do enjoy my job as much as one can enjoy such things. Dealing with tourists is nice as long as they don’t speak any English. Getting a 50% discount on a bucket of fried fish glazed in butter makes me feel like my gym membership is worthwhile. And drunk Germans are surprisingly good tippers. So all and all I would say working for The Man aint as bad as some would have you believe.
Which makes what I have to do all the more difficult.
You see, as an actor I had to sign a contract in my blood to promise to fight The Man, possibly with performance art and/or Tim Robbins. However I choose go about it though, it is my sworn legal and artistic obligation to bring down The Man and make the world safe for the less successful tenants of our free market based economy as well as for Godless gay black abortion doctors everywhere. And so I do my part on the job to subvert The Man’s authority. I don’t always write down customer orders. I allow my facial hair to often appear slightly unkempt. I don’t wash my apron with great regularity. Its through little things like this that I will bring The Man TO HIS KNEES! At least that’s what they taught me in Theater 101. By bitching about The Man loudly to those around me and then acting out softly and passive aggressively when The Man comes around I’m fulfilling my role as an artist in society. So there! If my feeble actions don’t take him down than surely this awkwardly written and poorly punctuated diatribe will!! Because The Man must die!!!
Unless of course he’s reading this. In which case- I got nothing but love for ya brother.
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My Friend The Man
As a world famous actor/waiter people often have many questions for me. For example- “who are you?” “why are you touching me?” and “what’s that smell?” But probably the most common question I get asked is “what’s it like to work for The Man?” You see I’m not just any waiter, but I’m a waiter who works for a large faceless restaurant corporation that has a location in Times Square. As I don’t want to lose my job, I think it is probably best I not mention this restaurant by name, but suffice it to say that it is very large and prominent and serves a lot of seafood. Also, as I mentioned, it is run by The Man. And not The Man in the Samuel L. Jackson/Eugene Levy sense, but The Man in the “Damn The Man” sense.
Anyway, thing is, as a recent college graduate with no discernable skills other than dressing up in funny clothes and pretending to be other people, I had no choice but to submit to my fate as a walking cliché and sign up to wait tables for The Man. Which leads us back to the question at hand – what is it like to work for him? Well, so far I haven’t had to do any TPS reports. Or file things. Or personally harm any cute puppies or rainbows or Dakota Fanning. But I have had to ask movie trivia questions to foreign tourists who have a Bush-level of English language comprehension. And I do have to ask if you want fries with that. And I seriously can’t find my stapler.
But on the other hand, he does pay me well, and sometimes when I pass by with a tray full of food I could swear I feel his hand gently caress my left buttock letting me know that I’m loved and appreciated. Or maybe I’m thinking of prison.
In all honesty though, I do enjoy my job as much as one can enjoy such things. Dealing with tourists is nice as long as they don’t speak any English. Getting a 50% discount on a bucket of fried fish glazed in butter makes me feel like my gym membership is worthwhile. And drunk Germans are surprisingly good tippers. So all and all I would say working for The Man aint as bad as some would have you believe.
Which makes what I have to do all the more difficult.
You see, as an actor I had to sign a contract in my blood to promise to fight The Man, possibly with performance art and/or Tim Robbins. However I choose go about it though, it is my sworn legal and artistic obligation to bring down The Man and make the world safe for the less successful tenants of our free market based economy as well as for Godless gay black abortion doctors everywhere. And so I do my part on the job to subvert The Man’s authority. I don’t always write down customer orders. I allow my facial hair to often appear slightly unkempt. I don’t wash my apron with great regularity. Its through little things like this that I will bring The Man TO HIS KNEES! At least that’s what they taught me in Theater 101. By bitching about The Man loudly to those around me and then acting out softly and passive aggressively when The Man comes around I’m fulfilling my role as an artist in society. So there! If my feeble actions don’t take him down than surely this awkwardly written and poorly punctuated diatribe will!! Because The Man must die!!!
Unless of course he’s reading this. In which case- I got nothing but love for ya brother.
A List of How Selected Jay-Z Song Titles Would Be Different If He Had Spent His Youth Working on a Shrimping Boat
- “Big Shrimpin’”
- “Money, Cash, Shrimp”
- “(Brush That) Shrimp Off Your Shoulder”
- “Can I Get A…Shrimp Cocktail”
- “99 Problems (Several Of Which Relate To The Catching And Selling Of Shrimp, A Bitch Not Being Among Those)”
- That last item might not have been grammatically correct.
- Well look, Jay- Z, I’m sorry I made a potentially grammatically incorrect joke involving one of your songs titles, but its not like you’re perfect. I mean come on, like you’ve never written something that had questionable syntax. How about “Fo shizzle my nizzle used to dribble down in VA”? Not exactly Shakespeare there Mr. Carter.
- Okay so you may be a world famous rapper and record company president and I may just be a guy who has stretched a one joke premise well past its breaking point and is now searching desperately for a way to end it, but still, that gives you no right to talk to me like that. And I may have my faults, but unlike you at least I don’t have to result to name calling and threats of violence. And at least I’m not named after a New York City subway line. And at least my girlfriend doesn’t shop Wal-Mart.
- Yes, I would be okay with taking this outside.
- Okay now that I’ve followed you outside can you explain why you wanted me to do so?
- Ow! You shot me!
- Hey wait, don’t just leave me here! Come back!
- Oh God I’m bleeding profusely. Can someone please help me?
- FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE PLEASE CALL 911!
- (sound of me gasping for air)
- …..
Friday, March 10, 2006
The Show That Sent Me Into Therapy
The Oscars. The Big Show. The Jewish Christmas. The Gay Super Bowl. The One Night a Year E! is Relevant. The Academy Awards are many things. But are they something that people still care about almost a week after the fact? Well we’re about to find out. Because as with any great tragedy its taken me about a week to be able to talk about them without breaking down emotionally. But I would hate for some half-baked, mediocre, and now outdated jokes to go to waste. So without further adieu, I give you my Oscar recap:
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* To paraphrase something my roommate Dave said, I’m glad they did Supporting Actor first so we can relax the rest of night without having to worry that we might see any film clips of William Hurt.
* Martin McDonough has an Oscar now! Take that David Mamet!
(Actually they might be friends for all I know. Still, wouldn’t a playwright feud be awesome? It would be the exact opposite of a rapper feud.)
* It might just be me, but I feel like Dolly Parton might have had some work done at some point.
* Are Tom Cruise’s home movies eligible for Best Documentary Short Subject?
* Remember how the technical nominees last year had to receive their awards from the audience? Notice how no one mentioned the fact that they went back to the old way this year? Interesting how it was like last year never happened wasn’t it? Wouldn’t those last three sentences have worked much better as statements rather than questions?
* With Jack Nicholson it’s hard to know whether the girl sitting next to him is his daughter or his date. I think it’s about 50/50 odds either way.
* The Wallace and Grommit guys would make great final round subjects on the inevitable future game show version of the popular guessing game “Gay or European?”
* New product alert: Tab Pink Energy Drink for Women! Their slogan is “The fuel to feel fabulous”. I don't even know what to say about this. I’m literally speechless. But if I could speak, I think the first thing I would say is “thank you God for the greatest product in the history of the world”. This is gonna make the wheel look Blue Raspbery Pepsi.
* I think if you’re a straight male the only way winning an Oscar would hurt your sex life is if the Oscar you won was for Best Makeup.
* Oscar Voiceover Announcer Guy: “When we come back Will Farrell Steve Carell will take the stage”
Me: Where will they take it to?
(By the way announcer guy, nice job of seconds after she won announcing that, “Rachel Weisz has also been seen in The Mummy and The Mummy 2”. Way to knock her down about 10 levels during the biggest moment of her life.)
* Hey, it’s Russell Crowe! Who let him near the Oscars?
(By the way, has anyone made the joke yet that it’s a good thing for that hotel concierge’s sake that Russell was only trying to call his wife and not email her? Just checking.)
* A quick word about Jon Stewart: I thought he did about as well as The Academy will ever allow anyone to do. I know his writers were told they couldn’t do a lot of the jokes they wanted because they wouldn’t fly with a mainstream middle-America audience and that’s a shame, but I understand. Taking that into account, and also keeping in mind that as a first time host he was on a very short leash, I thought he did a great job. Usually after the monologue is over you never think about the host the rest of the night, but I thought his constant jokes during the show were what kept people watching and entertained. Every time the camera panned to Jon you knew you were going to laugh. My only complaint is that they didn’t let him do enough. His monologue was too short and they really underutilized him. Much like Ellen at the Emmys. But some of the “ad-lib” jokes and the gay cowboy montage were classic Jon Stewart. And nothing beats that. Not even Billy Crystal.
* I know there was a lot of suspense over whether or not Crash would upset Brokeback for Best Picture, but I think that the most suspense and tension filled moment of the evening was the last thirty seconds of Reese Witherspoon’s acceptance speech. Because as the clock was winding down towards the speech’s evitable end the entire nation sat in rapt attention wanting to know the answer to the question we’d wondered about for months: would she forget to thank Ryan Phillippe? About half the speech had gone by and she still hadn’t done it yet. The cameraman then fixed the picture straight on Ryan and the tension was becoming almost unbearable. What would Ryan do if she forgot? Would he pull a gun out of his pocket and shoot himself in the face on live TV? Would he curl up into the fetal position and start bawling hysterically? Would the resultant therapy bills bankrupt their family? But alas, she finally did mention her husband, and so unfortunately Ryan Phillippe would live to see another day. Nevertheless it was the highlight of the night.
(Although on two related notes: I don’t think it’s ever a good sign if your wife seems more enthusiastic about thanking a guy named T-Bone than she is about thanking you. And also – have you ever seen a worse job of pretending to be excited than when Reese Witherspoon came into the pressroom and announced how excited she was that her husband’s movie had just won Best Picture? And keep in mind this was coming from a person who had just won an award called “Best Actress”. I think Keanu Reeves could have done a better job of acting excited than that. And he’s a cyborg!)
* After watching the In Memorandum montage I realized not only was this a bad year for movies it was also a bad year for death. When Richard Pryor gets the last spot in the montage you know it was really not a good year for death.
* I have a confession to make. When she came on stage to present Best Actor I actually thought for a brief moment “Wow, Hillary Swank is kind of hot.” And then the Earth promptly stopped spinning on its axis. It was very traumatizing and I’d prefer not to talk about it. Actually, can we just pretend we never had this conversation?
* I made a joke last year about how I should have Morgan Freeman narrate my home movies just to see if that could get them to win an Oscar…Well ladies and gentlemen, I present to you March of the Penguins.
*Yes! King Kong won for sound mixing! Thank god! Cuz, let me tell you something - the sound in the movie was mixed like a fucking yogurt parfait.
(I don’t even know what that means. But I DO know that the guy who invented analogies is rolling over in his grave. As is the guy who invented irony. And humor.)
* I’m glad they included genocide on the list of controversial issues that movies have taken on because I know that before movies were made about genocide most people were very pro-genocide. But Schindler’s List was really able to change a lot of minds.
* I just saw an ad for a new reality show where they’re going to find America’s “Next Great Inventor”. All I know is, whoever wins that show is gonna have to wrestle that title away from the person who invented Pib Energy Drink for Women
* When the Academy President was making his speech about the importance of seeing movies on the big screen and he said, “No actor has ever finished a take and thought, ‘that’ll look good on DVD’” he clearly was forgetting about Pauley Shore.
* While listening to Brokeback composer Gustavo Santaolalla’s acceptance speech I realized that almost no one involved with Brokeback can properly articulate the English language – Gustavo, Ang Lee, Heath Ledger…the list goes on and on.
* Top 3 & 1/2 Moments:
1.) Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin’s Altman tribute (the fact that Jennifer Aniston didn’t get it tells you all you need to know about why Jennifer Aniston will never win an Oscar or even have a viable film career for that matter.)
2.) George Clooney’s Speech
3.) Three 6 Mafia’s speech
3 & 1/2.) All of Jon Stewart’s jokes throughout the night but especially “Please welcome Luke Wilson and Owen Wilson – two talented brothers; which is also a good way to describe the Baldwin family.” (By far the best joke of the night)
* Not that it wasn’t a great moment, but it’s interesting that such a big deal was made about “Its Hard Out Here for a Pimp” winning Best Song. People like Ludacris kept saying it was a huge break thru for hip-hop. Did everyone forget that a rap song had won Best Song previously? Eminem won for “Lose Yourself” just two years ago yet somehow no one seemed to acknowledge this fact. It’s as though “Lose Yourself” wasn’t valid hip-hop, although I would say that not even showing up for the Oscars is way more “hip-hop” than changing the words to your song so they’ll be acceptable for children and then thanking Gilbert Cates and George Clooney in your acceptance speech. Nothing against Three 6 Mafia, but when people say that their win was a breakthrough for hip-hop, it seems that what they are REALY saying is that it was a breakthrough for BLACK hip-hop and validation for a large segment of the BLACK community. That’s why Eminem doesn’t count. And yet I have heard absolutely no one mention this angle. See boys and girls, this is how race and race relations work in the real world. Which leads into my last item…
* Okay, so I don’t want to go over it again, but as you might be able to tell, I’m still furious that Crash won Best Picture. Actually as more time has passed I’ve become more upset about it winning Best Original Screenplay than about it wining Best Picture. I seriously think you could do the script without changing a single word as a comedy. Just like with Chekhov! I was rereading my Oscar review from last year and was reminded how livid I was about Beyonce singing all the songs. Well multiply that by 10 and that’s how upset I STILL am about this Crash thing. I seriously need to find a good therapist. Since I don’t know what else to say about it I’ll leave you with this:
(I wrote this down about halfway through the telecast before Crash had won a single award yet.)
“The Academy members DO realize that they nominated a movie that features Ludacris, Brendan Fraser AND Tony Danza for Best Picture right?”
I think that says all you need to know.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) The Darkness – “One Way Ticket To Hell…And Back” (album)
2.) Newman’s Own Ginger O’s Cookies
3.) Astoria
3 & 1/2.) Dave Chappelle’s Block Party
Thought of the Week:
Well its not so much a thought as it is a brain teaser, but someone asked me this at work and trying to figure it out kept me mentally entertained for a good five minutes, which breaks the “longest period of time I’ve been entertained at work” record by a good 4 minutes and 30 seconds. Anyway, here it:
Name the four U.S. Presidents whose last names end with the letter E.
(hint: you gotta know your obscure presidents)
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* To paraphrase something my roommate Dave said, I’m glad they did Supporting Actor first so we can relax the rest of night without having to worry that we might see any film clips of William Hurt.
* Martin McDonough has an Oscar now! Take that David Mamet!
(Actually they might be friends for all I know. Still, wouldn’t a playwright feud be awesome? It would be the exact opposite of a rapper feud.)
* It might just be me, but I feel like Dolly Parton might have had some work done at some point.
* Are Tom Cruise’s home movies eligible for Best Documentary Short Subject?
* Remember how the technical nominees last year had to receive their awards from the audience? Notice how no one mentioned the fact that they went back to the old way this year? Interesting how it was like last year never happened wasn’t it? Wouldn’t those last three sentences have worked much better as statements rather than questions?
* With Jack Nicholson it’s hard to know whether the girl sitting next to him is his daughter or his date. I think it’s about 50/50 odds either way.
* The Wallace and Grommit guys would make great final round subjects on the inevitable future game show version of the popular guessing game “Gay or European?”
* New product alert: Tab Pink Energy Drink for Women! Their slogan is “The fuel to feel fabulous”. I don't even know what to say about this. I’m literally speechless. But if I could speak, I think the first thing I would say is “thank you God for the greatest product in the history of the world”. This is gonna make the wheel look Blue Raspbery Pepsi.
* I think if you’re a straight male the only way winning an Oscar would hurt your sex life is if the Oscar you won was for Best Makeup.
* Oscar Voiceover Announcer Guy: “When we come back Will Farrell Steve Carell will take the stage”
Me: Where will they take it to?
(By the way announcer guy, nice job of seconds after she won announcing that, “Rachel Weisz has also been seen in The Mummy and The Mummy 2”. Way to knock her down about 10 levels during the biggest moment of her life.)
* Hey, it’s Russell Crowe! Who let him near the Oscars?
(By the way, has anyone made the joke yet that it’s a good thing for that hotel concierge’s sake that Russell was only trying to call his wife and not email her? Just checking.)
* A quick word about Jon Stewart: I thought he did about as well as The Academy will ever allow anyone to do. I know his writers were told they couldn’t do a lot of the jokes they wanted because they wouldn’t fly with a mainstream middle-America audience and that’s a shame, but I understand. Taking that into account, and also keeping in mind that as a first time host he was on a very short leash, I thought he did a great job. Usually after the monologue is over you never think about the host the rest of the night, but I thought his constant jokes during the show were what kept people watching and entertained. Every time the camera panned to Jon you knew you were going to laugh. My only complaint is that they didn’t let him do enough. His monologue was too short and they really underutilized him. Much like Ellen at the Emmys. But some of the “ad-lib” jokes and the gay cowboy montage were classic Jon Stewart. And nothing beats that. Not even Billy Crystal.
* I know there was a lot of suspense over whether or not Crash would upset Brokeback for Best Picture, but I think that the most suspense and tension filled moment of the evening was the last thirty seconds of Reese Witherspoon’s acceptance speech. Because as the clock was winding down towards the speech’s evitable end the entire nation sat in rapt attention wanting to know the answer to the question we’d wondered about for months: would she forget to thank Ryan Phillippe? About half the speech had gone by and she still hadn’t done it yet. The cameraman then fixed the picture straight on Ryan and the tension was becoming almost unbearable. What would Ryan do if she forgot? Would he pull a gun out of his pocket and shoot himself in the face on live TV? Would he curl up into the fetal position and start bawling hysterically? Would the resultant therapy bills bankrupt their family? But alas, she finally did mention her husband, and so unfortunately Ryan Phillippe would live to see another day. Nevertheless it was the highlight of the night.
(Although on two related notes: I don’t think it’s ever a good sign if your wife seems more enthusiastic about thanking a guy named T-Bone than she is about thanking you. And also – have you ever seen a worse job of pretending to be excited than when Reese Witherspoon came into the pressroom and announced how excited she was that her husband’s movie had just won Best Picture? And keep in mind this was coming from a person who had just won an award called “Best Actress”. I think Keanu Reeves could have done a better job of acting excited than that. And he’s a cyborg!)
* After watching the In Memorandum montage I realized not only was this a bad year for movies it was also a bad year for death. When Richard Pryor gets the last spot in the montage you know it was really not a good year for death.
* I have a confession to make. When she came on stage to present Best Actor I actually thought for a brief moment “Wow, Hillary Swank is kind of hot.” And then the Earth promptly stopped spinning on its axis. It was very traumatizing and I’d prefer not to talk about it. Actually, can we just pretend we never had this conversation?
* I made a joke last year about how I should have Morgan Freeman narrate my home movies just to see if that could get them to win an Oscar…Well ladies and gentlemen, I present to you March of the Penguins.
*Yes! King Kong won for sound mixing! Thank god! Cuz, let me tell you something - the sound in the movie was mixed like a fucking yogurt parfait.
(I don’t even know what that means. But I DO know that the guy who invented analogies is rolling over in his grave. As is the guy who invented irony. And humor.)
* I’m glad they included genocide on the list of controversial issues that movies have taken on because I know that before movies were made about genocide most people were very pro-genocide. But Schindler’s List was really able to change a lot of minds.
* I just saw an ad for a new reality show where they’re going to find America’s “Next Great Inventor”. All I know is, whoever wins that show is gonna have to wrestle that title away from the person who invented Pib Energy Drink for Women
* When the Academy President was making his speech about the importance of seeing movies on the big screen and he said, “No actor has ever finished a take and thought, ‘that’ll look good on DVD’” he clearly was forgetting about Pauley Shore.
* While listening to Brokeback composer Gustavo Santaolalla’s acceptance speech I realized that almost no one involved with Brokeback can properly articulate the English language – Gustavo, Ang Lee, Heath Ledger…the list goes on and on.
* Top 3 & 1/2 Moments:
1.) Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin’s Altman tribute (the fact that Jennifer Aniston didn’t get it tells you all you need to know about why Jennifer Aniston will never win an Oscar or even have a viable film career for that matter.)
2.) George Clooney’s Speech
3.) Three 6 Mafia’s speech
3 & 1/2.) All of Jon Stewart’s jokes throughout the night but especially “Please welcome Luke Wilson and Owen Wilson – two talented brothers; which is also a good way to describe the Baldwin family.” (By far the best joke of the night)
* Not that it wasn’t a great moment, but it’s interesting that such a big deal was made about “Its Hard Out Here for a Pimp” winning Best Song. People like Ludacris kept saying it was a huge break thru for hip-hop. Did everyone forget that a rap song had won Best Song previously? Eminem won for “Lose Yourself” just two years ago yet somehow no one seemed to acknowledge this fact. It’s as though “Lose Yourself” wasn’t valid hip-hop, although I would say that not even showing up for the Oscars is way more “hip-hop” than changing the words to your song so they’ll be acceptable for children and then thanking Gilbert Cates and George Clooney in your acceptance speech. Nothing against Three 6 Mafia, but when people say that their win was a breakthrough for hip-hop, it seems that what they are REALY saying is that it was a breakthrough for BLACK hip-hop and validation for a large segment of the BLACK community. That’s why Eminem doesn’t count. And yet I have heard absolutely no one mention this angle. See boys and girls, this is how race and race relations work in the real world. Which leads into my last item…
* Okay, so I don’t want to go over it again, but as you might be able to tell, I’m still furious that Crash won Best Picture. Actually as more time has passed I’ve become more upset about it winning Best Original Screenplay than about it wining Best Picture. I seriously think you could do the script without changing a single word as a comedy. Just like with Chekhov! I was rereading my Oscar review from last year and was reminded how livid I was about Beyonce singing all the songs. Well multiply that by 10 and that’s how upset I STILL am about this Crash thing. I seriously need to find a good therapist. Since I don’t know what else to say about it I’ll leave you with this:
(I wrote this down about halfway through the telecast before Crash had won a single award yet.)
“The Academy members DO realize that they nominated a movie that features Ludacris, Brendan Fraser AND Tony Danza for Best Picture right?”
I think that says all you need to know.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) The Darkness – “One Way Ticket To Hell…And Back” (album)
2.) Newman’s Own Ginger O’s Cookies
3.) Astoria
3 & 1/2.) Dave Chappelle’s Block Party
Thought of the Week:
Well its not so much a thought as it is a brain teaser, but someone asked me this at work and trying to figure it out kept me mentally entertained for a good five minutes, which breaks the “longest period of time I’ve been entertained at work” record by a good 4 minutes and 30 seconds. Anyway, here it:
Name the four U.S. Presidents whose last names end with the letter E.
(hint: you gotta know your obscure presidents)
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