Monday, January 26, 2009

The Post-Talent Age

On Saturday night around 2:30 I left a bar in Park Slope and since I didn't want to fall asleep during the potentially long subway ride ahead of me, I grabbed a paper from the rack near the door of the bar. It turned out to be a Village Voice from mid-December. Here I thought they spontaneously combusted after about 8 days, and the good folks in Brooklyn manage to keep them circulating for over a month. God bless. So I managed to wade into an article about a writer complaining about blogs. All too appropriately, this blogger will say the article itself wasn't very good, but that there were some wonderful quotes way at the end that nicely verbalize some of my own thoughts:

1. "The state of publishing is such that you can get all these great things, but people don't talk about the work. They talk about you. There used to be serious critics and an audience. . . . Now, the audience is also in the critic business."
2. "The Internet's returned us all to these sort of 19th century critics who are trying to judge us by our voice, who are trying to hear the way our soul comes through."

And now the big ones:

3. "We have created a sort of post-talent age."
4. "It's commercial realism as opposed to intellectual realism."

I'm not so much interested or qualified to analyze how this all specifically relates to publishing--that's just the medium the article concerned itself with--but I think it does a great job generally describing the current state of artistic creation, and the public's reception of it.
The internet lately has allowed anyone to presume himself an expert on anything. Look at me, even. What do I know about film? I took one class in college about it, but other than that my only qualifications are that I'm very interested in film and therefore that I pay close attention to certain aspects of it. But I could be a hack. Anybody writing or critiquing anything online could be a hack. And that's why if you're responsible you must question the writer/reviewer, as well as his reviews. Since this type of ad hominem argumentation necessarily can't lead to any greater insight, what we're left with is simple questions and simpler answers: a dead-end for many intellectual pursuits.
And when your intellectual pursuits lead to a dead-end, you might just easily choose to quit trying. You might aim lower, you might leave the vacuum open for lesser lights. This is how I view the comment about this being a "post-talent age."
I used to spend time thinking about the idea of post-modernism as it applies to all fields of art. I was and still am fascinated by the idea of somehow transcending time or context, or by representing something just a bit further, if you'll allow me a sloppy bit of metaphysics. I used to wonder where could anyone ever go after post-modernism? Was "post-modern" simply a catch-all to describe everything happening now? And therefore, does that mean that artistically we'd arrived at a bleak point with no room to continue to grow, or does it mean that we'd managed to rise above labels and consequently to have limitless possibilities?
Enterprising artists (remember I'm talking about all fields of art here, not just painters or sculptors or whatever your mental image of an artist defaults to) pushed the envelope so much as to distract people from what was beautiful or talented and of course brought into question just what those things were. This was all very interesting, but I think it may have ominously succeeded in removing talent from the equation.
If reality TV "stars" can be more popular than any infinite amount of fine actors, then what good is acting?
If pop stars can be more or less created and sold as images, and if people who already have an image but no musical talent can find success as "musicians," then what's the point in refining a person's musical craft?
If a writer can produce something great, only to have it ignored by the media and attacked and undermined by a faceless internet presence, while all it would take is the opinion of one person (Oprah) to guarantee success, then why strive toward something bigger and better?
If a truly innovative filmmaker toils in obscurity and can't find funding, but a 15 year old can become famous for a 3:00 YouTube clip, then why focus your energy on anything more than what will have mass appeal?

I think it's great that people can now use the internet to express themselves, and that it gives a voice to just about anyone who wants one, but there are consequences.
Say you are in a room that has three microphones with 100 people, and five of those people are unquestioned geniuses. In the past, just a few of those 100 people would decide by some process who to allow to speak (assuming of course that the goal is for the smartest person to have the mic), but those few people would be largely successful in discovering those smart people. Let's say that command of the three mics would rotate amongst a group of 7-8 people, with 4 of those geniuses being accounted for, while one remains in the shadows. What you'd have is little difficulty in hearing the speakers (since there are only 3 mics to talk over each other), and relatively good representation of intelligence. Over time, those 4 geniuses would command people's attention better than the 3-4 hacks who slipped into the group of speakers but some failing on the part of the deciders.
Now let's imagine that you're in the same room with the same 100 people and five geniuses, only this time there are 50 very-slightly-quieter microphones than the original three, plus the original three. And assume that the group who decide who to let speak isn't 100% concerned with finding the smartest people. What you'd end up with is 53 people talking at once, and an almost random allocation of intelligence handling those microphones.
That might be an unnecessarily tedious analogy, but it's generally close to where we are now. It's almost as if no one knows who's worth a damn anymore. Worse, it's not entirely certain whether or not anyone cares who's worth a damn. This is where the final quote from above seems most relevant: "It's commercial realism as opposed to intellectual realism."
If you reread those four quotes at the top, maybe you will agree with me that the first two represent an advance in our culture, while the last two most definitely represent a collapse. Whether or not the two sets of quotes can exist as mutually exclusive is a bigger debate than I'm ready to tackle here. In fact, how society might go about fostering an environment that allows for #1 and 2, while keeping #3 and 4 to a minimum would be one of the more interesting artistic arguments to follow in our contemporary world. Personally, I could live without #1 and 2 if it meant the elimination of #3 and 4, though you have to admit the latter present us with some extremely interesting if unsavory scenarios.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Hamsgiving 2009

A Tragicomedy, in Five Acts

Dramatis Personae:
Lord Folg
Dave
Prince Drew
Devon
Fool
Sir Hudik
Hamsgiving Witch
Chad
He Who Shall Not Be Named
King (not an actual King)
BigFoot
Lady BigFoot
Sevendust
Lady Folg
Rosencrantz
Guildenstern
Frogs
Assorted Fans and Attendents


Act One, Scene One -- Park Slope McDonalds
Enter Lord Folg and Dave
DAVE: I can't wait to eat meat.
FOLG: Me too.
DAVE: Hey how do you order the nuggets and it's cheaper than when I do?
FOLG: Because McDs is stupid and lets you buy 5 four-piece nuggets for $1 each, while charging $6-something for a twenty-piece.
DAVE: You're so wonderful, Lord Folg. I'm only going to eat 12 though.
FOLG: Rubbish!
Exeunt

Act One, Scene Two -- The Pig Castle
[Flourish] Enter Sir Hudik, Lord Folg, and Dave
SIR HUDIK: Sorry I'm such a loser. Welcome to the Pig Castle. We have Rock Band.
DAVE: Yeah!
FOLG: I've got a deep fryer. And ribs and gin. Please bring me Mtn Dew.
SIR HUDIK: Haven't got any yet. I'm going to the store to get stuff. Mind the Castle.
Exit Hudik
DAVE: Rock Band!
FOLG: Ok Dick, let's do this then.
DAVE: God, you're terrible at this.
FOLG: No shit, you were there when I had to leave the room because I couldn't clap straight, right?
Enter Chad and Lady Chad
CHAD: Sweet. Rock Band.
LADY CHAD: Sorry Chad is such a loser. We have a Jive Turkey.
CHAD: Damn, Folg, you fucking suck at that.
FOLG: Yeah, I'm done. Have fun. I can't even hit the drum things, let alone the right ones at the right time. Where's my Mtn Dew.
DAVE: He wasn't even trying with the kick drum.
Exeunt

Act One, Scene Three -- location as before
Enter BigFoot, Lady BigFoot, and Attendants
DAVE: Hey! I'm a rockstar!
CHAD: This game should have dance moves.
BIGFOOT: Have a look at this thick-ass slab bacon. I'm gonna cook it now. Why the hell is the grill not going yet?
FOLG: Mini-fail. Hudik is coming back and we're going to have a fire under the grill so everything stays warm. It's kinda genius. I'm going to go clean it off to get ready.
Exit FOLG
BIGFOOT (aside): Man, I wish I were more like Lord Folg.
Enter Prince Drew and Devon
PRINCE: Ham's here. Give us an hour and it will make love to your mouths.
DAVE: Do you have the shirts?
DEVON: Yeah, I need to iron them on here still though.
DAVE: Yes! That's almost as cool as Rock Band.
CHAD: Easy there.
Enter Sir Hudik
SIR HUDIK: Assholes. It's fucking cold. Who wants sausage and meatballs?
BIGFOOT: This bacon is delicious.
Enter Fool
CHAD: Hey you actually brought something, that's weird.
FOOL: Fuck yourself. Get a load of what's in this bag.
All follow Fool into kitchen
DAVE: It's two headless frogs! Look how big they are!
BIGFOOT: What's in the other bag?
FOOL: Feast your eyes on these three.
PRINCE: Damnit, they're alive!
ALL: Fuckin-a.
FOOL: I'm putting them in the bathtub.
Exit Fool
DAVE: That's the greatest thing I've ever seen.
CHAD: I think that's a Hamsgiving miracle.
SIR HUDIK: Not for long they won't be.
Exeunt

Act Two, Scene One -- Outside the Pig Castle
Enter Lord Folg, Sir Hudik, Fool, and Dave
DAVE: She said we shouldn't burn treated wood.
FOLG: Fuck it, we'll let it burn off, let's fill it up. How do you think we'll kill the frogs?
Enter Prince Drew and Chad
FOOL: I watched the Chinese guys in the back of the store do it. Just behead them and skin them.
PRINCE: Just cut their heads off in one solid whack.
CHAD: Those things don't have a separate head.
FOLG: You are a jackass.
FOOL: No, I mean, it will be nothing. How freaking awesome am I?
SIR HUDIK: Yeah, this sounds really well thought-out.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
GUILDENSTERN: We'll take the frogs to Englad and see that they're killed properly.
CHAD: Who the hell are these dillweeds?
ROSENCRANTZ: Eh.
Exit Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
PRINCE: I'll do it no problem. Just cut off their heads, how hard is it?
SIR HUDIK: We'll see you do it then. What's that smell?
FOLG: Just poisonous gas. When it burns off we'll cook over it. Where is my Mtn Dew?
SIR HUDIK: Yeah, I forgot.
FOLG: How in the fuck am I supposed to celebrate Hamsgiving without Mtn Dew? You may as well stick a veggie dog in my mouth with this shit.
FOOL: Some of those veggie dogs they make are pretty good.
Exeunt

Act Two, Scene Two -- The Folg Castle
Enter Lady Folg and Attendant
ATTENDANT: The meat for your Hamsgiving dish, m'lady.
LADY FOLG (aside): I'thanks. Should that they are sim'larly mistook.
ATTENDANT: How shall you prepare?
LADY FOLG: With love, (aside) and deceit.
ATTENDANT: Methinks we'll be a winner with this dish.
LADY FOLG: Indeed. (Aside) If there be a prize for the best
Vegetarian dish at this party,
Then the fake meats in this fine casserole
Shall easily prevail, uncontested.
Exeunt

Act Two, Scene Three -- Inside the Pig Castle
Enter Dave, Prince Drew, He Who Shall Not Be Named, and King (Not An Actual King)
DAVE: Look who it is, and they've got a giant bottle of Jack!
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: I'll tell you what. I tell a lot of people what.
KING (NOT AN ACTUAL KING): Who wants to drink?
DAVE: We have live frogs, check em out in the bathroom.
ALL: Sweet.
Enter Hamsgiving Witch
WITCH: Hey guys where's all the meat?
PRINCE: You mean currently living or currently dead? Cause we've got both.
KING (NOT AN ACTUAL KING): That's some nice toad. Let's have a Rock Band sing-off, bitch.
WITCH: Where are the live animals?
DAVE: Shower.
WITCH: You're kidding me.
Exit Hamsgiving Witch
Enter Lord Folg
FOLG: Do any of you assholes have my Mtn Dew?
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: Hey........hey.............I bet you wish you had some Mtn Dew.......................No, actually I don't have any. Sorry.
Enter Hamsgiving Witch
WITCH: Good god, there are three giant frogs in my shower.
DAVE: Let's eat some meat.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: You know, no one is going to get most of the stuff you're saying right now.
FOLG: Shhh. I don't care.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: Just don't say my name anymore.
Exeunt

Act Two, Scene Four -- Outside the Pig Castle
Enter Sevendust
SEVENDUST: Goddamnit, what is that horrible smell? Do I hear glass bottles over there? What.................that son of a bitch called my ho a ho. I'm gonna kick his ass.
Exit

Act Three, Scene One -- Pig Castle Shower
Enter Frogs
FIRST FROG: Man, aint this some shit.
SECOND FROG: That fuckin fool think he's gonna kill us.
FIRST FROG: Goddamn Chinaman already got those two.
THIRD FROG: I'm kinda scared.
FIRST FROG: Fuck you, you little bitch! Don't watch your ass, I'll fucking eat you.
SECOND FROG: I ate a dude's leg once. It was pretty good, actually. Didn't care for the sauce.
THIRD FROG: Leave me alone!
Exeunt

Act Four, Scene One -- Inside the Pig Castle
Enter Lady Folg, Attendant, Sir Hudik, Chad, and Prince Drew
LADY FOLG: Hello Everyone! I have some goodies.
SIR HUDIK: Awesome. We're getting quite a lot of all of a sudden. Like four different kinds of meatballs already.
PRINCE: That ham was delicious.
SIR HUDIK: What are you going to eat? We haven't got any veggie-friendly stuff of course.
LADY FOLG: Oh, I brought some simple fish for myself.
Nothing vegetarian. I'm keeping
To the dead beasts rule, good thing I eat fish.
This other dish is for you guys. Don't worry,
It's made of nothing but meat. (Aside) Ha-ha-ha!
Enter Lord Folg
FOLG: What did you bring babe? I'm about to start my ribs. You bring me Mtn Dew?
LADY FOLG: No, sorry.
Enter Dave
DAVE: I've got your damn Mtn Dew. And real wood. Let's start forgetting stuff. It's packed in here.
FOLG: It's about time. Speaking of that, let's get some of these rookies a meat sweats shot.
Exeunt

Act Four, Scene Two
Enter King (Not An Actual King), Dave, Prince Drew, Devon, and Lord Folg
DEVON: Tshirts ready in a minute.
DAVE: Yeah!
DEVON: Oh shit. I fucked it up. Wow.
DAVE: Ha! It's backwards! She ironed it on, so it's backwards!
FOLG: What! That's freaking hilarious!
PRINCE: Well I still think it looks good.
DAVE: I'm wearing mine for sure.
FOLG: Write FAIL on mine. That's perfect.
KING (NOT AN ACTUAL KING): Hamsgiving Fail! Woo!
PRINCE: Damn, you've been drinking out of that whiskey bottle an awful lot, there bud.
KING (NOT AN ACTUAL KING): Jackie Treehorn treats objects like women, man!
DAVE: Perfect.
Exeunt

Act Four, Scene Three -- On the Road to the Pig Castle
Enter Hamsgiving Witch and Attendant
WITCH: Fucking idiots. No way I was going to let them butcher these frogs.
ATTENDANT: I thought they were going to cut them?
WITCH: With what? No way our knives could do the job. I'd let them do it if they could kill them humanely.
ATTENDANT:.............uh.........but they're frogs.
WITCH: They'll find a good home at the pet store.
ATTENDANT: Sure they will.
WITCH: What did you say?
ATTENDANT: Um, I said "Sure they will."
WITCH: But you said it sarcasitcally.
ATTENDANT: No, Ms Witch. You are right, as always. (Aside) Damnit, I should remember to signal for an aside before I say stuff like that.
Exeunt

Act Four, Scene Four -- Outside the Pig Castle
Enter Lord Folg
FOLG: Why in the hell did I burn these ribs so bad? I'm a freaking idiot. Too much gin.
Enter Fool, Sir Hudik, and Dave
DAVE: Somebody took the frogs!
FOOL: They're not in the shower!
FOLG: What happened? The dead ones too?
SIR HUDIK: No the dead ones are still there. Live ones disappeared.
DAVE: This will ruin Hamsgiving!
SIR HUDIK: Have you gotten drunk and gorged on meat all day?
DAVE: Yeah.
SIR HUDIK: Then I think you'll be fine.
FOOL: We don't have anything live now.
DAVE: There is a totally awesome pig made out of sausage, bacon, and a foot long hot dog, though. And a chicken stuffed with about eight different meats.
SIR HUDIK: And a person dressed up as a sausage.
DAVE: And King is passed out like a dead person from all the Jack.
FOLG: He wins the Sean Smith Memorial Award.
DAVE: Let's go do some meat sweats and forget about the frogs.
FOLG: We still have a deep fryer so we can eat the dead ones at least.
FOOL: But I wanted to kill a frog!
SIR HUDIK: Dude you were starting to turn white a couple hours ago just thinking about it.
FOOL: Nuh-uh!
Exeunt

Act Five, Scene One -- Inside the Pig Castle
Enter Lady Folg and Lord Folg
LADY FOLG: So did you like my meat today?
FOLG: Yeah, sure. Had a few too many beans I think.
LADY FOLG: It was good though?
FOLG: Why?
LADY FOLG: Shhh. It was all veggie meat substitute.
FOLG: (horror)
LADY FOLG: Heeheehee.
Lord Folg thinks about stabbing Lady Folg with a used rib bone, and then killing himself with it, but vomits all over the place instead.
Exeunt

Act Five, Scene Two -- Inside the Pig Castle
Enter Chad, Dave, Prince Drew, He Who Shall Not Be Named, and Lord Folg
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: (laughing)
CHAD: Should we try to wake up King?
DAVE: Good luck, he's out cold.
PRINCE: That was a lot of fucking pork.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: (giggles)
FOLG: Too bad King drank all the whiskey, I'm in the mood for another meat sweats.
CHAD: Dickhead.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED: (laughs)
Exeunt

Act Five, Scene Three -- Outside the Pig Castle
Enter Sir Hudik, Dave, and Lord Folg
FOLG: Hey let's throw some shit around and yell!
SIR HUDIK: Why?
FOLG: Cause we're hammered and invented a holiday!
DAVE: Meat rage!
Enter Sevendust
SEVENDUST: You motherfuckers! Shut the hell up! It's 11PM on a Saturday, you should be in bed thinking about lame-ass late-90s metal bands!
SIR HUDIK: Whoa!
SEVENDUST: I'm gonna kick you asses! Meet me in front of the house!
Exit Sevendust
FOLG: No, I don't think so.
DAVE: Let's go drink some more of the vodka chili.
Exeunt

The End

Friday, January 16, 2009

this is how people turn into republicans

I haven't watched any real movies lately, so let's talk about something else, like old Tommo. You remember him from the joke a couple weeks ago. What a great guy. No, I'm just saying that cause that's what you're supposed to say. No one ever says, "Gee, that Steve, what a flaming dick he is." Back to Tom, though. He's no flaming dick, but he is certainly flaming. One little-known thing I know about Tom and will share with you today is that he is really interested in an internet footprint.
Other news, I'm 28 years old and pretending to be a receptionist for the day. Since that's not my real job, it almost feels like I'm a 21 year old temping or something. Helps to keep a man grounded, gives him an opportunity to see things as they once were, because things change. For instance, I am voraciously soaking up net-knowledge as I plan my honeymoon for this August. That right there is a basic and major change. But as I look around and research places to stay (we've almost certainly settled on spending our 9-night vacation around the Yucatan Peninsula. Nice beaches, nice resorts, jungles, ancient ruins, relatively unspoiled or un-tourist-ed islands, all fairly cheap: sounded like a winner to me), a heretofore unknown thought has guided my decision-making. I'm concerned about safety, specifically the safety of my precious future bride. I think this terrifying reaction is called responsibility. The concern not merely for oneself, but for others. It's what parents do naturally on behalf of kids, and I think it's a prerequsite for a mature relationship.
The question here is how does this affect the rest of my actions? Is this strong-even-if-sometimes-irrational approach to situations something that you can turn on and off? Will I be "grown-up" when planning something involving Sara, while turning into a careless follower when doing anything else? I'd hope that the answer to this last question remains yes, at least for a little while longer. I enjoy the freedom of not being responsible for anyone, often includng myself, but the alternative is sort of a right of passage for people around my age. I guess what I'm saying is I hope this transition for me is a nebulous one.

While we're on the subject of change, Hamsgiving is tomorrow and I can't promise a liveblog as in past years. For one, it will be frigid (sub-20degrees, just like we'd always intended for the holiday. I seem to recall it being unseasonably warm last year) and so I won't be as apt to be jotting in a notebook, and for two I don't know how easy any access to a computer will be. I shall go prepared though and will do my best. I look forward to it.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

I thought Milk was nothing really special. Naturally, a nice job by Sean Penn (actually Emile Hirsch might have been his equal, though in a much smaller role) and the filmmakers generally but nothing resonated and it felt like I've seen this type of film and especially this type of acting job before. The intensity and call-to-arms nature of the story (Sara: "I am going to make you be a gay rights activist") propels it to a definitely good film, but I can't say you really need to spend $12.50 to see this unless you are really looking forward to it (which is what I am for Revolutionary Road, thanks to seeing its preview prior to Milk).

Now, what I've really come to write about today is sports. Specifically, college football, which would seem a timely subject as its national championship game is to be played tonight.
It's taken 28 years for me to be able to say this, but I really am done with the bowl system. I get virtually nothing out of the bowls anymore. Ohio State just played a close, exciting game against Texas a few days ago, and I never really felt like what I was watching mattered. I haven't watched very many other bowl games this year, because they don't matter either. And even if they did, how seriously should we take them if the teams competing have gone usually at least 5 weeks since last playing, after having spent the previous 3 months playing games no more than two weeks apart.
It doesn't make a whole lot of sense. The whole bowl system is a ridiculously out-of-date relic, and the fact that everyone forces today's college football into a structure built 50, 60, 70-plus years ago is absurd. Roads we use today are much bigger and smoother than those used in 1925. The technology of cars and the complexity of the advanced transportation systems demanded it. In 1940 it was a big deal for a Big Ten and its fan base to win a bid to the Rose Bowl. It gave midwesterners a chance to travel to warm southern California, and it gave warm southern California an injection of tourism that it may not have always enjoyed. From the team's perspective, it allowed two very disparate but powerful football regions to pit their best teams against one another in glorified exhibition games (remember the long layoff between games, then multiply that by great magnitudes to reflect that teams didn't practice as ubiquitously as they do now). Remember now that the sport itself was still rather young back then and so the notion of exhibition games was not at all silly. They needed to get their product out in front of people however possible, and so grandly scheduled (New Year's Day) games featuring presumably the best teams was good for business.
Does any of that last paragraph sound remotely relevant to college football today? No. Teams travel across the country multiple times per year anyway. They don't truly get the time off between late November and January 1 either, so the 5+ week gap between games is contrived. I don't need to tell you that air travel is now commonplace so people will travel to warm southern California, sometimes just on a whim, and certainly whether their favorite team is going there or not. TV has given the sport a spotlight every weekend through the season, and the aforementioned big inter-sectional matchups through the fall command at least as much attention as bowl games ever did.
Assuming you follow reason you agree with me now, that there is no need for bowl games to exist in 2009 as they once did. So then what's the point? The way I see it, the only thing bowls really achieve today is to stand in the way of a playoff, something that would both make sense and have consequence.
I won't get into the endless debate about the pros and cons of a playoff, especially the financial aspect of the argument, but I will say that, from a competitive standpoint, a playoff is really the only solution. If you are one who feels that it would diminish the importance of the regular season (something I disagree with, and something I feel could easily be mitigated by structuring the playoff properly), then just choose your champion at the end of the regular season. Or, if you absolutely must, run the BCS like they do now and select just two teams to play for the title. But don't do it in conjunction with any bowl, and don't do it 5 weeks later. Remember that the current setup technically is a playoff, simply a two-team playoff. Everything else is consolation. Consolation that loses value and interest every year. This year, I think it lost me. Tradition for its own sake is preposterous.