out of context

and the winner is...

oh, wait; we're all losers. 

I stubbornly sat through the entire disappointing Oscars last night, under the false hope that Chris Rock would be more than mildly entertaining or that a winner would say something interesting, funny, or poignant.  the pre-show was horrific and reinforced my steadfast refusal to watch any of the entertainment shows (besides Best Week Ever, which is a guilty pleasure) or read any entertainment magazines (besides Gawker, but only because they keep a safe ironic distance).

Rock's initial monologue was all right, but he really lost momentum fast.  also, is there no one else who can sing in all of the entertainment world besides Beyonce? and why do they need to perform so many lame songs?  what in the hell was Puff Daddy doing at the Oscars?  what movie was he in again?  also, I'm really sick of these awful acceptance speeches where people are compelled (probably contractually, or at least to further their careers) to thank 28 people in a rattled-off check list that is boring and aggravating to watch.  in a ceremony overdone with hyperbolic sentimentality, why is such blatant business maneuvering allowed?  all of these studio people, agents, lawyers, accountants, managers, assistants, stylists, publicists, gardeners and dry cleaners must really get off on slowing down these TiVo'd acceptance speeches so their friends can hear their brief 15th of a second of fame.

here are the only three categories of people acceptable to acknowledge in an acceptance speech:
1. members of the Academy/fellow actors/direct collaborators
2. close relatives
3. inspirations (e.g., 3rd grade teacher, God, Jimmy Stewart)

that's it.  none of this Hillary Swank wait-don't-cut-me-off-yet-because-I-have-to-thank-my-publicist bullshit, ok?

thank you.

iPod, therefore iAm

I don’t think that I have OCD, but before leaving my apartment, even if just to run a quick errand, I first do a pat-down of my pockets to check to make sure I have with me all my essential urban gear: wallet (check), keys (check), cell phone (check), iPod (check).  Depending on the weather or destination, this pat-down may also involve reading material, hat, gloves, umbrella, chapstick, and/or sunglasses. 

I always feel naked and vulnerable whenever I forget to do this pat-down and neglect to bring with me one of these “necessities,” but this is especially true when I forget my iPod or cell phone. How am I supposed to walk through the city or take a subway ride without having my own soundtrack to carry me along?

One of my old housemates from Seattle, Jeff, used to chide me because I listened to my CD player during my commute on the bus. He said that I was missing out on all the excitement and energy of city life that you miss when you have headphones cutting you off from the outside world. 

I now realize that he may have had a point.

As Andrew Sullivan writes in the Times of London, observing people walking around New York with those ubiquitous white wires dangling from their ears:

“[their] eyes were a little vacant. Each was in his or her own musical world, walking to their soundtrack, stars in their own music video, almost oblivious to the world around them. These are the iPod people…They walk down the street in their own MP3 cocoon, bumping into others, deaf to small social cues, shutting out anyone not in their bubble...

But what are we missing? That hilarious shard of an overheard conversation that stays with you all day; the child whose chatter on the pavement takes you back to your early memories; birdsong; weather; accents; the laughter of others. And those thoughts that come not by filling your head with selected diversion, but by allowing your mind to wander aimlessly through the regular background noise of human and mechanical life.”

Granted, when I’m waiting for a late-night subway train without any reading material (not even an old copy of amNew York or New York Metro), I do value my cute little white box.  But perhaps I could more often consciously unplug myself from my sleek device and take in the outside world around me.

[ Article via Arts and Letters Daily; image via Google image search.]

Gated Community

I went with some friends this weekend to see Christo and Jeanne-Claude's famed "The Gates, Central Park, New York, 1979-2005." While I am generally skeptical of things that have such widespread support (I constantly worry about being one of those never-questioning royal subjects who won't acknowledge that the emporer has no clothes), I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed this massive public art experience. (My friend said that it looked like a giant Hindu wedding celebration.)

I think that Michael Kimmelman put it well in the New York Times when he wrote: "[e]ven at first blush, it was clear that "The Gates" is a work of pure joy, a vast populist spectacle of good will and simple eloquence, the first great public art event of the 21st century."
 
It reminded me of John Updike's New Yorker review of the newly renovated MoMA, where he discusses the role of art museums, and art in general, in the modern world:

"The art museums, once haunted by a few experts, students, and idlers, have become the temples of the Ideal, of the Other, of the something else that, if only for a peaceful moment, redeems our daily getting and spending. Here resides something beyond our frantic animal existence. Leonardo spoke scornfully of those men who do nothing in their time on earth but produce excrement.

Art, in its traditional forms of painting, drawing, and sculpture, is a human by-product whose collection, in homes, galleries, and museums, lightens the load, as it were, of life. By its glow we bask in the promise of a brighter, more lasting realm reached by a favored few—St. Vermeer, St. Pollock, St. Leonardo. In Paris and Florence, tourists from Japan come by the busful, pose giggling for a photograph in front of the “Mona Lisa” or “The Birth of Venus,” and hurry on their way, blessed."

And so after my visit through Central Park today, I too felt blessed. 

 

a malignant force in the world

In recent years, I have become increasingly disillusioned with the "Main Stream Media" (or MSM, as right-wingers are prone to calling it); I have lost faith in the ability of most of the major news outlets to objectively report the facts, to provide the proper context for current events, and to serve as a watchdog and challenge those in power. 

At the same time, I have increasing respect for the New Yorker, which has proved to be the definitive outlet for investigative journalism these days.  The New Yorker not only provides an in-depth context for many of the important issues of the day, but it also has lead the way in exposing what happens when an administration, arrogant with power, is left unchecked. 

There is Seymour Hersh, who first told the world about Abu Ghraib and has recently warned us about Bush's secret plans to turn Iran into a "Mess-O-Persia," (as Jon Stewart puts it).  Then there's David Remnick, who's article recounting his recent trip to the Middle East in which he interviewed nearly all of the major players in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict provides more context than reading 1000 headlines about suicide bombings and military operations. 

Now we have Jane Mayer, who has exposed the Government's practice of "outsourcing torture," where we send terrorist suspects, without any hint of due process under our legal system, to other countries to have those dubious governments torture the suspects for us.  Commenting on her article, Bob Herbert put it well in the New York Times when he wrote:

"Any government that commits, condones, promotes or fosters torture is a malignant force in the world. And those who refuse to raise their voices against something as clearly evil as torture are enablers, if not collaborators....Jettisoning the rule of law to permit such acts of evil as kidnapping and torture is not a defensible policy for a civilized nation. It's wrong. And nothing good can come from it."

So why don't we have more aggressive journalism, like the New Yorker, to expose these wrongs and to inform us of them? 

it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to...

My friend Tom alerted me to today's Note, which I really haven't read much since the elections.  Mark Halperin and his gang of googling monkeys give a good litany of all that is wrong with the current Democratic Party:

"One party has political elites who revere and respect its recent presidential candidates; one party can't even be bothered to stop chatting and, err, partying to listen to its candidates speak.

One party has a clear programmatic agenda that has been relentlessly pursued in a well-organized fashion for five years; one party is still trying to build a credible war room (both materially and culturally).

One party never apologizes and never shows weakness; one party is on its fourth day of cry-babyish "defense" of its Senate Leader, after a run-of-the-mill GOP "attack."

One party is already organizing for 2005/6/7/8; one party is still trying to figure out what changes a yet-to-be-elected chair will make on the Wisteria Lane of politics — Ivy Street, SE.

One party would know that electing a national chair with a net negative approval rating is at a minimum problematic; one party thinks it's a virtue.

One party can whenever it wishes take off-the-shelf opposition research (video and text) and turn it into talking points that drive the friendly and (sometimes) mainstream media; one party considers 36 hours to be "rapid response."

One party will air its dirty laundry to whatever lowest-common-denominator media outlet comes a-sniffin'; one party engages in cock-fight-style drag-'em-outs in their headquarters' basement.

One party is on offense; one party is on . . . something else.

On party learned the lessons of the '90s; one party unlearned them.

One party knows the press is its "enemy"; one party mistakenly thinks the press is its "friend."

One party is expending resources to expand the base and broaden the tent; one party says it is planning to do those things, but is distracted defending demographic and geographic turf.

One party owns national security; one party can't figure out how to own health care or the environment in a way that would help win elections.

One party figured out how to keep its "extreme" party platform on abortion and still make electoral gains; one party hasn't.

One party is trying to use its general unity to hold together and pass Social Security reform; one party is trying to figure out how to extend and build on its unity over opposing personal accounts to a general strategy.

One party has been taking the long view for a long time; one party can't see past yesterday.

One party has members who will take these words to be gospel; one party is dominated by people will quickly dismiss it as mean-spirited.

One party would agree with what we wrote above; so would the other one."

It's tough to be someone who's politics are more aligned with the minority party right now.  As the election-results pie chart shows and poll numbers confirm, Bush really does not have a large mandate - his approval ratings entering his second term were almost the lowest in history for a president returning to office.  He only has a slight majority of the country behind him, but he's able to govern as if there's hardly an opposition party, let alone the fact that nearly half the country didn't chose him as their president. 

[image via This Modern World  via  pandagon]