So some people are in a big tizzy over that crazy right-wing radio doctor in the States being pressured to give up her show when her sponsors (shockingly) abandoned her following an outburst of the 'n' word in a live broadcast. Unsurprisingly, she and her supporters (what few remain) stand behind her statements and claim that this whole incident is a 'violation of First Amendment rights'.
Not being an American and having never read the constitution, I can't comment on their argument. What cracks me up, however, is, as always, the feigned shock (or is it genuine?) of these people as they claim inability to fathom reasons for the public outcry against their actions or words.
"Why am I being attacked? Why is everyone making such a big deal of this?"
MEMO TO ALL CELEBRITIES/FAMOUS PEOPLE IN THE WORLD!!!!! READ AND LEARN!!!
There are people out there who don't like you. Whether its your morals or your politics or just you as a person (hey, we can't all smell like roses), there are people who do not like you. There are people who don't like ME, but I'm not famous. Heck, no one's even reading this paragraph. I'm not worth attacking.
You, on the other hand, are. The people who don't like you want to tear you down, get you off of television (or, for the older ones, radio), make you look foolish in the public eye. They will use any opportunity, large or small (incidentally, this particular incident qualifies as LARGE), to destroy you.
People who didn't like Bush latched onto every stutter, stumble and stupid remark; they played them over and over, even making full-fledged documentaries about it. On the other side, people who don't like Obama twist each of his words individually, in an effort to alter his intended meanings. Even in Hollywood...it's no coincidence that Mel Gibson's road rage is somehow more newsworthy than anyone else's (I, myself, say some rather unpleasant things when stuck in traffic...but nobody bothers to report that); the fact is, there are groups that don't like him and use every chance to make him look foolish.
So it may be unfair, but here's a little tip...DON'T GIVE THEM AMMO. If you're not totally stupid, then you know there are people out there who don't like you and will try anything they can to tear you down. They will not be fair. They will not be understanding. They will not look at 'your side of the story' or keep things in context. It may not be fair, but you must be extra careful not to do obvious things that these people can then turn against you.
I'm not saying that I support the abovementioned radio 'doctor'; personally, I was one of the group that was glad to see her go. But that is beside the point. The fact is, she should have realized that every civil rights group in the country would pounce on her words without delay. Arguing against that fact is a waste of time. In fact, pretending to be shocked by the incident it pure denial...something that a psychologist should be able to recognize for what it is.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
100 Year Life
Have you ever noticed how the twentieth century was similar to a human life?
It began with the hope and promise of prosperity. New life, new creation, new innovation...light bulbs and automobiles and luxurious ocean liners. A fresh start for humanity, a renewed childhood for Earth.
Then came the teens, and the conflict began. From age 14 to 18, the people of said Earth tore at one another with never-before-seen ferocity. The First World War was a mindless, meaningless slaughter of everyone and everything in sight...much like your average teenager's directionless crusade against life. We've all been through it; the world as a whole simply experienced it on a much vaster scale.
But war eventually came to an end and the twenties brought renewed vigour. We were well out of our angst-ridden youth and ready to enjoy all the good things that life had to offer. We danced and played and broke the rules; it was an age of music and art, riches and decadence...once again the promise of better things to come.
Until the responsibilities of adult life hit us like a slap in the face...or, more accurately, a stock market crash. Suddenly we had families to feed and children to raise while suddenly running short of money and food. It only got worse from there; before we knew it war had returned, and now our teenaged children (still hungry and poor from our lacklustre parenting phase) ended up getting into the exact same war that we had fought in our own youth. The century's forties were spent mourning the return of a violence it had thought to be at an end.
But again, the children grew up and war ended. The century entered its fifties in a more relaxed frame of mind, more optimistic than before. Babies were born and wholesome, family-friendly television flourished. But we were growing older and needed something to ease the growing pains. As we entered our sixties, we began to experiment with certain mind-altering substances that could take our minds off the fact that the so-called 'war to end all wars' had actually been three wars ago. It was the twentieth century's midlife crisis; after sixty years it really hadn't made much progress at all and was beginning to wonder whether its entire existence had, in fact, been a total waste of time.
So in the seventies, we became downright cranky. Recreational drug use had turned into virulent addiction. No one knew what was right anymore; all the 'moral perfection' of the fifties turned out to be rather more racist and prejudiced than we'd been willing to admit at the time. Our self-imposed censorship systems collapsed as young musicians and filmmakers broke the foul-language barrier into tiny pieces. Corrupt politicians made us cynical, a return of financial uncertainty made us resentful.
In our eighties we were so deaf that music had to be cranked to absurd levels. Fortunately, advances in technology helped us overcome our shortcomings. It was hard to walk, so there was more seated travel; hard to think for ourselves, so computers and TV pundits began to do so in our place. Of course, obesity and apathy and sheer laziness now began to become serious problems...but by this point we didn't really care anymore.
A final glimmer of hope came as the 1900s approached the end of its 'life'. Sure, it had left a legacy of violence, depression and poor decisions, but it was about to pass the torch to a new generation. Perhaps the new millenium would start the cycle again and actually do it better. New life, new promise, new beginnings...another fresh start.
But unfortunately, the twentieth century wouldn't go down without a fight. On its way out, the 1900s left us a healthy dose of its greatest diseases: war, poverty, injustice, intolerance and conservative governments (who, incidentally, are primarily responsible for all of the above). These things still exist, not as emergences of our new age, but as hangovers from the previous one...much like the inordinate financial duties imposed upon the family of a dead person.
The choice now lies with us. Do we just live this century the way our ancestors lived the previous one...or do we, perhaps, learn from their mistakes, shake off their legacy, and forge a new path for ourselves?
We're not living in our parents' basement anymore. We own the property now. I think it's time to clean house.
It began with the hope and promise of prosperity. New life, new creation, new innovation...light bulbs and automobiles and luxurious ocean liners. A fresh start for humanity, a renewed childhood for Earth.
Then came the teens, and the conflict began. From age 14 to 18, the people of said Earth tore at one another with never-before-seen ferocity. The First World War was a mindless, meaningless slaughter of everyone and everything in sight...much like your average teenager's directionless crusade against life. We've all been through it; the world as a whole simply experienced it on a much vaster scale.
But war eventually came to an end and the twenties brought renewed vigour. We were well out of our angst-ridden youth and ready to enjoy all the good things that life had to offer. We danced and played and broke the rules; it was an age of music and art, riches and decadence...once again the promise of better things to come.
Until the responsibilities of adult life hit us like a slap in the face...or, more accurately, a stock market crash. Suddenly we had families to feed and children to raise while suddenly running short of money and food. It only got worse from there; before we knew it war had returned, and now our teenaged children (still hungry and poor from our lacklustre parenting phase) ended up getting into the exact same war that we had fought in our own youth. The century's forties were spent mourning the return of a violence it had thought to be at an end.
But again, the children grew up and war ended. The century entered its fifties in a more relaxed frame of mind, more optimistic than before. Babies were born and wholesome, family-friendly television flourished. But we were growing older and needed something to ease the growing pains. As we entered our sixties, we began to experiment with certain mind-altering substances that could take our minds off the fact that the so-called 'war to end all wars' had actually been three wars ago. It was the twentieth century's midlife crisis; after sixty years it really hadn't made much progress at all and was beginning to wonder whether its entire existence had, in fact, been a total waste of time.
So in the seventies, we became downright cranky. Recreational drug use had turned into virulent addiction. No one knew what was right anymore; all the 'moral perfection' of the fifties turned out to be rather more racist and prejudiced than we'd been willing to admit at the time. Our self-imposed censorship systems collapsed as young musicians and filmmakers broke the foul-language barrier into tiny pieces. Corrupt politicians made us cynical, a return of financial uncertainty made us resentful.
In our eighties we were so deaf that music had to be cranked to absurd levels. Fortunately, advances in technology helped us overcome our shortcomings. It was hard to walk, so there was more seated travel; hard to think for ourselves, so computers and TV pundits began to do so in our place. Of course, obesity and apathy and sheer laziness now began to become serious problems...but by this point we didn't really care anymore.
A final glimmer of hope came as the 1900s approached the end of its 'life'. Sure, it had left a legacy of violence, depression and poor decisions, but it was about to pass the torch to a new generation. Perhaps the new millenium would start the cycle again and actually do it better. New life, new promise, new beginnings...another fresh start.
But unfortunately, the twentieth century wouldn't go down without a fight. On its way out, the 1900s left us a healthy dose of its greatest diseases: war, poverty, injustice, intolerance and conservative governments (who, incidentally, are primarily responsible for all of the above). These things still exist, not as emergences of our new age, but as hangovers from the previous one...much like the inordinate financial duties imposed upon the family of a dead person.
The choice now lies with us. Do we just live this century the way our ancestors lived the previous one...or do we, perhaps, learn from their mistakes, shake off their legacy, and forge a new path for ourselves?
We're not living in our parents' basement anymore. We own the property now. I think it's time to clean house.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Scientific Ego
Does anyone else ever get tired of things being indicated and/or revealed by studies. Seems that every time I open a newspaper or website, I find a published result of some 'recent experiments' or 'five-year study'. The sources of these range from universities to private institutions (read: lots of people with nothing better to do) and the ultimate purpose seems to be overturning things that generations of humanity have until now accepted as fact.
A lot of these are diet related. Depending on who you listen to, you could very well believe that green vegetables could be bad for you, while chocolate and alcohol might actually be beneficial. I know I'm generalizing here, but the fact is that the average person DOES generalize. If you start your report by saying: "Lettuce can give you cancer," I can't promise that I'm going to read every last page of it, but I guarantee I'll think twice before buying my next package of Romaine Hearts at the supermarket.
It was bad enough when Pluto was demoted from 'planet' status to...whatever the heck it's supposed to be. Now, I am the first to admit that I am no scientist; I don't know what their system of measurement is, or what the qualifying criteria for a planet might be, or especially why they think this sort of thing matters to the general public in the first place. I will say that I do feel bad for Pluto being summarily removed from its heretofore special status as the outer guardian of the solar system, particularly as it seems to have been denied one our society's fundamental rights, that of being able to face one's accuser in court.
Now, along the same lines, I hear that the Triceratops may not have actually existed. What, then, are these skeletons that have haunted museum hallways for the past century or more? It's not like they're debunking the Gorgonops or the Shuvuula (both actual dinosaur names, by the way); the Trikey is one of the most famous pre-historic creatures that I can name. Even before Jurassic Park brought names like "Velociraptor" and "Procompsognathus" and "Jeff Goldblum" into the popular lexicon, everyone knew what the three-horned one was called. Except now, some 'scientists' have announced that it's just a juvenile version of the Torosaurus. That's right, the famous Torosaurus...the one you'd never even heard of until you read that sentence.
Well I, for one, am not giving in to this anymore. The fact is, none of these people have ever visited Pluto, seen a living dinosaur, or gone on a diet. The fact is, their conclusions are based on hypothesis and experiment leading ultimately to a theory that is ONLY considered true if a substantial number of leading experts accept it...the same way that old atomic models and theories of the universe were just as 'true' as the ones today. When new facts emerge, new theories are required.
Thus the conclusion: no one actually knows what they're talking about. Science and religion, which many believe to be totally incompatible, actually converge at the point that SOME basic, un-provable premises must be accepted before anything can be definitively stated. Newton's three laws of motion, for instance, are the foundation of modern physics...but they are only 'LAWS' at all because they've yet to be disproved. As scientific history indicates, what is true today may be false tomorrow.
As for me, I will continue to admire the Triceratops skeleton in the museum and even hope to one day visit the planet Pluto. I may start avoiding lettuce, though. That stuff's nasty.
A lot of these are diet related. Depending on who you listen to, you could very well believe that green vegetables could be bad for you, while chocolate and alcohol might actually be beneficial. I know I'm generalizing here, but the fact is that the average person DOES generalize. If you start your report by saying: "Lettuce can give you cancer," I can't promise that I'm going to read every last page of it, but I guarantee I'll think twice before buying my next package of Romaine Hearts at the supermarket.
It was bad enough when Pluto was demoted from 'planet' status to...whatever the heck it's supposed to be. Now, I am the first to admit that I am no scientist; I don't know what their system of measurement is, or what the qualifying criteria for a planet might be, or especially why they think this sort of thing matters to the general public in the first place. I will say that I do feel bad for Pluto being summarily removed from its heretofore special status as the outer guardian of the solar system, particularly as it seems to have been denied one our society's fundamental rights, that of being able to face one's accuser in court.
Now, along the same lines, I hear that the Triceratops may not have actually existed. What, then, are these skeletons that have haunted museum hallways for the past century or more? It's not like they're debunking the Gorgonops or the Shuvuula (both actual dinosaur names, by the way); the Trikey is one of the most famous pre-historic creatures that I can name. Even before Jurassic Park brought names like "Velociraptor" and "Procompsognathus" and "Jeff Goldblum" into the popular lexicon, everyone knew what the three-horned one was called. Except now, some 'scientists' have announced that it's just a juvenile version of the Torosaurus. That's right, the famous Torosaurus...the one you'd never even heard of until you read that sentence.
Well I, for one, am not giving in to this anymore. The fact is, none of these people have ever visited Pluto, seen a living dinosaur, or gone on a diet. The fact is, their conclusions are based on hypothesis and experiment leading ultimately to a theory that is ONLY considered true if a substantial number of leading experts accept it...the same way that old atomic models and theories of the universe were just as 'true' as the ones today. When new facts emerge, new theories are required.
Thus the conclusion: no one actually knows what they're talking about. Science and religion, which many believe to be totally incompatible, actually converge at the point that SOME basic, un-provable premises must be accepted before anything can be definitively stated. Newton's three laws of motion, for instance, are the foundation of modern physics...but they are only 'LAWS' at all because they've yet to be disproved. As scientific history indicates, what is true today may be false tomorrow.
As for me, I will continue to admire the Triceratops skeleton in the museum and even hope to one day visit the planet Pluto. I may start avoiding lettuce, though. That stuff's nasty.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Dinner for Schmucks
ONE-LINE REVIEW: Avoid the box office and just stream Steve Carell's monologue on YouTube.
This film is based on a French movie with a similar plotline, much like 1996's 'The Birdcage'. In much the same way, the characters of 'Dinner for Schmucks' spend pretty much the entire film preparing for the eponymous meal that serves as the film's climax and best scene. Unlike 'Birdcage', however, very little of that build-up is actually funny. Overall, I had three major problems with this film...
#1: There is pretty much no back story given to Paul Rudd's character. We think we're seeing the same charming, lovesick, awkward but ultimately well-meaning hero from the much funnier 'I Love You Man'...but apparently that's not the case. Rudd's character claims to have a dark and ruthless corporate personality that forces him to make all of his immoral (and incidentally really stupid) decisions. However, since we never really see that side of him, we can't understand why his girlfriend is always furious with him. Why is she so unforgiving when he's just a nice guy who makes the occasional mistake?
He spends most of his time saying inappropriate things when the wrong people are standing right behind him. Cliche, you say? Apparently the director didn't think so...the gag is repeated FOUR TIMES over the course of the film. Plus, his character is so horrendously raked over the coals that one can't help but feel sorry for him. The restaurant scene in the middle of the movie actually had me closing my eyes and stopping my ears, wishing it would just end; no matter how awful a person is, NO ONE deserves that level of discomfort.
#2: Steve Carell's character is so unbelievably dumb that we can't really support him (after all, he does make a total train wreck of Rudd's life) and yet still so morbidly pathetic that we can't laugh at him. I was never sure what side I should be on; is he just a well-meaning fool, his traditional character from '40-Year-Old Virgin' and 'Get Smart', or an awkward cat-came-back-style leech in the vein of 'What About Bob?' Do we laugh with him or just at him? That being said, his scenes are easily the movie's funniest and I wonder how much of it was script versus improvisation.
#3: The dinner scene (the one the movie is named after, the source for 95% of the trailer and the whole reason anyone's going to SEE it) is about 15 minutes long. Potentially funny characters are introduced and then almost immediately ignored. Again, we are forced to pity both the incompetent Carell and the indecisive Rudd at the same time. This leaves little room for any solid laughter. I can imagine the pitch: "A comedy that makes you feel bad? What a great idea! Let's spend lots of money on it!"
That being said, the movie's saving grace is its supporting cast. "Flight of the Conchords"'s Jermaine Clement is totally unnecessary but utterly hysterical. He and Carell are together what make this movie a 'comedy' at all. Those who enjoy the one-note zaniness of Zack Galifianakis (I personally can't stand him) will love his small but pivotal role. "Office Space"'s Ron Livingston and "The Daily Show"'s Larry Wilmore don't have nearly enough screen time, but make the most of what they're in.
At the end of it all, the only memorable scene in the whole flick is Carell's 'Tower of Dreamers' monologue near the end. It is about five minutes long and is probably already available for internet piracy. Watch it. The man is a comic genius; I just hope he can find himself better movies that this...unless, of course, his goal is to be the sole centre of attention in what would otherwise be a total waste of time.
This film is based on a French movie with a similar plotline, much like 1996's 'The Birdcage'. In much the same way, the characters of 'Dinner for Schmucks' spend pretty much the entire film preparing for the eponymous meal that serves as the film's climax and best scene. Unlike 'Birdcage', however, very little of that build-up is actually funny. Overall, I had three major problems with this film...
#1: There is pretty much no back story given to Paul Rudd's character. We think we're seeing the same charming, lovesick, awkward but ultimately well-meaning hero from the much funnier 'I Love You Man'...but apparently that's not the case. Rudd's character claims to have a dark and ruthless corporate personality that forces him to make all of his immoral (and incidentally really stupid) decisions. However, since we never really see that side of him, we can't understand why his girlfriend is always furious with him. Why is she so unforgiving when he's just a nice guy who makes the occasional mistake?
He spends most of his time saying inappropriate things when the wrong people are standing right behind him. Cliche, you say? Apparently the director didn't think so...the gag is repeated FOUR TIMES over the course of the film. Plus, his character is so horrendously raked over the coals that one can't help but feel sorry for him. The restaurant scene in the middle of the movie actually had me closing my eyes and stopping my ears, wishing it would just end; no matter how awful a person is, NO ONE deserves that level of discomfort.
#2: Steve Carell's character is so unbelievably dumb that we can't really support him (after all, he does make a total train wreck of Rudd's life) and yet still so morbidly pathetic that we can't laugh at him. I was never sure what side I should be on; is he just a well-meaning fool, his traditional character from '40-Year-Old Virgin' and 'Get Smart', or an awkward cat-came-back-style leech in the vein of 'What About Bob?' Do we laugh with him or just at him? That being said, his scenes are easily the movie's funniest and I wonder how much of it was script versus improvisation.
#3: The dinner scene (the one the movie is named after, the source for 95% of the trailer and the whole reason anyone's going to SEE it) is about 15 minutes long. Potentially funny characters are introduced and then almost immediately ignored. Again, we are forced to pity both the incompetent Carell and the indecisive Rudd at the same time. This leaves little room for any solid laughter. I can imagine the pitch: "A comedy that makes you feel bad? What a great idea! Let's spend lots of money on it!"
That being said, the movie's saving grace is its supporting cast. "Flight of the Conchords"'s Jermaine Clement is totally unnecessary but utterly hysterical. He and Carell are together what make this movie a 'comedy' at all. Those who enjoy the one-note zaniness of Zack Galifianakis (I personally can't stand him) will love his small but pivotal role. "Office Space"'s Ron Livingston and "The Daily Show"'s Larry Wilmore don't have nearly enough screen time, but make the most of what they're in.
At the end of it all, the only memorable scene in the whole flick is Carell's 'Tower of Dreamers' monologue near the end. It is about five minutes long and is probably already available for internet piracy. Watch it. The man is a comic genius; I just hope he can find himself better movies that this...unless, of course, his goal is to be the sole centre of attention in what would otherwise be a total waste of time.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Attention, please?
There was a visiting archbishop at Mass today. He read the Gospel, where Jesus warned the crowd against "all forms of greed", telling the parable of a rich man who received an extremely bountiful crop, built massive barns in order to store all these goods and increase his considerable wealth...and promptly died the next day. The basic message, I suppose, is a re-iteration of the old adage "you can't take it with you".
That wasn't the focus of the sermon, however. Instead, the archbishop spoke about life in his home country of the Philippines. He comes from an area on the island's western coast located between the sea and the mountains. The people live primarily on fish and rice, often tithing these wares in lieu of money so the Church can sell them to finance community projects. The weather is unpredictable; due to the location it is almost always hot, rainstorms last a long time and flooding is common.
He talked about the people slogging through knee-level muddy water to get to mass on Sundays and about having to ride on horseback just to access his smaller parishes in the mountains. He described the government's persecution of priests who give aid to poor people that happen to have communist leanings, and how he would then work to get them out of jail. At last he touched on the day's Gospel, noting that the greatest Christian act is selfless generosity.
The second collection for the day was to raise funds for this area of the world. It was, all things considered, a good pitch; rather than trying to guilt the parishoners into opening up their wallets, he instead portrayed these people as fellow Christians and (more to the point) fellow human beings who do not share the privileges afforded by our land of plenty. We often forget that most of what we have is a result of where we were born, the one thing over which we had absolutely no control.
What really got me thinking, though, was his description of people slogging through mud and navigating mountain passages just to get to Church. It's particularly impressive when one considers that "I'm too tired" is actually considered a viable excuse for missing Mass in Canada.
In addition, a small child in the back wailed for most of the sermon and at least two cellphones rang. Even people who are there aren't totally "there"; we are still so inextricably linked to the outside world that we can't even manage thirty little minutes of undivided attention.
But then, the archbishop didn't lay on guilt, so I shouldn't either.
It just gives me something to think about the next time I walk through clear streets and eat something other than fish and rice.
That wasn't the focus of the sermon, however. Instead, the archbishop spoke about life in his home country of the Philippines. He comes from an area on the island's western coast located between the sea and the mountains. The people live primarily on fish and rice, often tithing these wares in lieu of money so the Church can sell them to finance community projects. The weather is unpredictable; due to the location it is almost always hot, rainstorms last a long time and flooding is common.
He talked about the people slogging through knee-level muddy water to get to mass on Sundays and about having to ride on horseback just to access his smaller parishes in the mountains. He described the government's persecution of priests who give aid to poor people that happen to have communist leanings, and how he would then work to get them out of jail. At last he touched on the day's Gospel, noting that the greatest Christian act is selfless generosity.
The second collection for the day was to raise funds for this area of the world. It was, all things considered, a good pitch; rather than trying to guilt the parishoners into opening up their wallets, he instead portrayed these people as fellow Christians and (more to the point) fellow human beings who do not share the privileges afforded by our land of plenty. We often forget that most of what we have is a result of where we were born, the one thing over which we had absolutely no control.
What really got me thinking, though, was his description of people slogging through mud and navigating mountain passages just to get to Church. It's particularly impressive when one considers that "I'm too tired" is actually considered a viable excuse for missing Mass in Canada.
In addition, a small child in the back wailed for most of the sermon and at least two cellphones rang. Even people who are there aren't totally "there"; we are still so inextricably linked to the outside world that we can't even manage thirty little minutes of undivided attention.
But then, the archbishop didn't lay on guilt, so I shouldn't either.
It just gives me something to think about the next time I walk through clear streets and eat something other than fish and rice.
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