Monday, September 26, 2016

Why I'm Not Watching the Debate

Been a while. So, if you’re a regular reader, sorry.  If you’re not, then you’re part of 99.9% of the population (rounded up), so don’t worry about it.

As the title says, I’m not going to watch the debate tonight. And honestly, I’m not going to watch any of the debates. To be clear, I am going to vote.  And I’m guessing that, like most people, I already know who I’m going to vote for.

So that’s one reason I’m not going to watch the debate.

Think about it: what do you think might get said at tonight’s debate that could possibly change your mind? If you’ve come this far with Trump, do you really think there’s anything he could possibly do now to put him out of your favor? Is there anything Clinton could say that makes you go “oh, wow—that’s a good point”? On the other hand, if you were for Hillary, would you suddenly find yourself nodding along to one of Trump’s points? Or hear her mess up a question, and wonder if you’re making the right choice?

Of course not. Trump could come up with a legitimate plan to cure cancer, and I really think we’d just say “fine—give us the cure, but we’re not voting you president because of it.” And Hillary could just spit on Donald in response to every answer he had, and we’d be like “that’s disgusting…but so is he.”

What, then, is the point of the debate?

Ratings. Ratings for the networks, and—more importantly—ratings for the news organizations. The lead up, the live viewings, the analysis. It’s all about entertainment.



The problem is, I have a feeling this is either going to be boring, or it’s going to be a blood sport. Nothing substantive is going to come out in these debates. Hillary will be playing against the “she can only lose” mindset from most commentators, and Trump will either “defy expectations” (by actually answering policy questions with seemingly respectable answers) or will play to the crowd, trolling and zinging Clinton into hopefully making a mistake.

How is that a discourse on the state of the country? How is that an actual debate? How are we supposed to actually get answers from these candidates?

Just as important, though, is my original feeling: that their answers don’t matter. The people interested in watching the debates are already interested in politics (or political theater), and therefore almost certainly decided. This isn’t like Bush/Kerry, where the nation truly had to think about which bland candidate they wanted to lead the country. Or even Obama/McCain, where two “reformers” had different ideas about how they wanted to change the country…but were both well-respected.

No. One is hated by the opposition for being married to her husband, for legitimate mistakes she made in terms of national security, and for the illegitimate reason of happening to be a woman. The other is hated by his opposition as being a notorious flip-flopper, a hate-mongerer, a bigot and misogynist, and a financial enigma that claims personal wealth but won’t disclose that wealth.

These are highly polarizing figures for one reason or another, and if the election had been held yesterday, I don’t think the results would change if the election was held tomorrow, after the debate.

Which all means I’m not going to be watching this debate. And I won’t be watching the next one. I know who I’m voting for, and I have a feeling you do, too. So why pretend it matters other than as entertainment? And by that, meaning you’re hoping someone says something so outrageous that you have an emotional, visceral reaction to it.

Why not just drink yourself sick, or go on a rollercoaster, or hook up with a stranger?


At least you’d be enjoying yourself for a little bit, then.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Baseball and Books -- A Bad Analogy About the 2015 Hugo Award Nominations

If there's one thing I love more than Science Fiction and Fantasy, it's baseball. And one of the things I love about the sport is not just the game itself—the content, so to speak—but the debates that surround it.

Who's better?
What stats matter more?

Who should win an award, and who should be in the Hall of Fame?

Obviously there's controversy. Perception matters. A player’s connection with reporters matter. Results matter (and yet, what those results are usually up for debate, too).

The funny thing is: I don't think they actually are up for debate. I think I'm right, I think if you disagree you're wrong, and I'm going to back up my argument with the facts as I see them. I'll cite sources and dismiss yours.

(For example, you'll never convince me that Miguel Cabrera--despite the Triple Crown--was the MVP over Mike Trout, or that Jim Rice is a Hall of Famer.)

And I love it. And, in the end, I still love baseball, no matter how wrong you are about the sport.  Because it's fun, and it takes me away from regular life for a while, and we all need something like that.

Clearly the parallels are imperfect, but I can't help connect baseball with what we're currently seeing with the Hugos and the Sad Puppies and the "Social Justice Warriors."  Because, at the end of the day—despite all the time, sweat, and money we have invested in it—we are part of this genre and community because we love it...warts and all.

That, though, is where things get blurry. Because warts are imperfections we can live with.  Cancers, though...

More on that in a minute.

First, though, I'll admit: I hadn't even heard of the controversies until the Hugo shortlist came out. My initial reaction was excitement—a book I acquired (Marko Kloos' LINES OF DEPARTURE, for 47North) was nominated for best novel.  This was a first for me, and Marko is an author I think any fan of military SF should be reading.

But then I was hearing it was tainted...and that got me thinking about baseball.

Right now, there are two major issues that still come up for baseball: steroids and gambling (a young pitcher on the Marlins is currently being fined for betting, even if it wasn’t on baseball). For me, the former is bad. Steroids can have serious health effects, and there's as purity we like to believe about baseball that is marred with needles and clear creams and pills. It's ugly, and it's about money, and it's sad to hear about favorite players falling under suspicion (or worse, being suspended). There are rules, and this is cheating.

And yet, I can't help feel it was part of the game. For good or ill, players chose to do this to themselves, and they'll have to live with that. And they might have hurt others by gaining an advantage (though, knowing what we do about steroids, it can't actually make you better at baseball. Rather, it enhances you're ability to build muscle mass and recover from workouts quicker--still an advantage, but it doesn't change the fact that you have to be good enough to hit a baseball or locate a 90 mile-per-hour fastball in a relatively small box), I don't think their actions were so reprehensible as to warrant complete exclusion from the game.

Gambling (in particular, betting on baseball), though, is more than bad—it’s something I think has no place in the sport. It can have serious repercussions that affect whole teams. It changes the fundamental aspects of baseball, because it's no longer player versus player, but player versus the line—versus money.

As such, I would have no problem including Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens in the Hall of Fame, but I would never want to see Pete Rose there.

For me, then, I can't say I like the stances of the proponents of the platform (or the views of some of those nominated), yet I can’t find a reason to actually fault what they did (the action, not the reason).  As many have pointed out, the Hugo Awards (as well as the Nebulas and any other voted on award—think All-Star games to bring it back to baseball) are flawed, and this group exploited that system.  It happens, and obviously we should be thinking about how to fix it (if we even care at this point).

But what we should never tolerate is any group that advocates specificity harmful actions to others in the community. A jerk by himself hurts himself—don't buy his book. But a jerk that espouses violence, such as members of GamerGate—the Sad Puppies staunch foot soldiers, apparently—then that's something worth noting.

Because the fact is, they are bad for the game. Threats and direct derogatory commentary not only shouldn't be tolerated, they CAN'T be tolerated.  Just as you can’t yell “Fire” in crowded theater (or baseball stadium), you aren’t protected if your views are threatening or abusive. Yes, you are entitled to your opinions, but it doesn’t mean your opinions are allowed to impinge on the safety of others.

The funny thing is—for the most part, I see this as a steroid problem.  This is something we certainly don’t like seeing, but people saw an opportunity and took it—I can’t fault them that.  But to then have a slate that seems to be okay with homophobia and racism and sexism…how is that okay?  And perhaps another baseball analogy will help:

Where would the game be without Jackie Robinson?

The world is evolving, and science fiction and fantasy has always been on the forefront of that. I’ve always been excited to see us pushing the boundaries and debate forward. I would hope we could do so amicably, with the idea that in the end, it’s the stories that really define this genre, just as the games define baseball.  The personalities are intriguing, sure, but we need not define ourselves simply by ourselves. Let’s enjoy the content, let’s debate the situation around it, and let’s keep it amicable. Because at the end of the day, the Red Sox are still going to be there, and I have to live with that…as long as they don’t start threatening my family.

*Awkward analogy: Ended*

A reminder: Kloos and Butcher and Anderson didn't ask to be on the Sad Puppy slate. Read these really good books and then decide.  Don't just "No Award" because they showed up with no affiliation to the group.

Links:











Thursday, July 17, 2014

Summer Song of 2014

Last year, the race was over pretty quickly, with two obvious contenders basically pacing each other (and lapping the rest of the field): Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" and Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" walking off with a perfectly acceptable split-decision.

The year before, it was even more obvious, with Ms. Jepsin easily handing us one of the best pop songs in recent memory, "Call Me Maybe."

But this year...

We have contenders, sure, but has anyone really established anything close to zeitgeist?  Is there one song you would need to hear if you were at a party this summer?  Would a trip to the beach--convertible top down--be incomplete without a particular song blasting?

I'm not sure we've had that hit just yet.

But the best way to actually make such a determination is to look at the songs themselves.

The Contenders

Ariana Grande -- "Problem"

I'd have to say the front runner.  Two It-girls (Grande and Iggy Azalea), a great beat, catchy hook, and strong wrap.  Not the greatest dance song (the beat is a bit slow during the verses, but the same could be said for "Blurred Lines" and "Call Me Maybe").  Just not sure it's quite as ubiquitous as you'd expect the song of summer to be.

Calvin Harris -- "Summer"

Fun song, appropriately named, but nothing really special in the rather crowded world of DJ-fronted projects.  Also, came out pretty early in the year, and I don't think it had the staying power a summer song should have.

Jason Derulo -- "Talk Dirty to Me"

Another song that was out pretty early, the sax riff is a love-it-or-hate-it feature (I lean towards liking it--I definitely find myself wanting to get jazzy with it).  Strong club song, too--probably the #2 song on this list.

Michael Jackson -- "Love Never Felt So Good"

This is definitely my favorite song on this list, but I tend to have outlier/B-side taste, so take that for what it's worth.  Huge stars (MJ & JT), very danceable (especially for white people, which is often key in this kind of deliberation), and good hook.  But...again, is this ubiquitous enough?  A good summer song should be like the rakes in the Cape Fear episode of The Simpsons: great the first couple of times, annoying after a while, and then great with endless repetition.  I think this song has the re-listenability (it could be a word), but is it being played at the club, pumped up in the car, AND your mom knows the lyrics?  Not sure it's made it there.

Katy Perry -- "Dark Horse"

Lots of airtime, rap I think you can memorize after a few listens, and a big star.  Probably too dark, though. Also, not really a summer song (February release).


Underdogs:

Nico & Vinz -- "Am I Wrong"

Currently one of my favorite songs, this one has seemingly come out of nowhere and infiltrated pretty much everything I use to listen to music (Spotify and Pandora the primary ones).  Great beat, fun detail (the "oh yeah yeah yeah yeah"), and catchy hook--the whole thing is primed for singing along to.

Also: apparently it came out in 2013...and now that I re-watch the video, I'm remembering my girlfriend sent this around last year.  But it only got big now, so I'm keeping it in (I considered doing the same with Bastille's "Pompeii," which similarly became a hit way after it originally came out last year, but really, it was more an early 2014 hit anyway).

Clean Bandit -- "Rather Be"

A true dark horse, the violin suggests a quieter song, and Jess Glynne's voice isn't dominating.  The lyrics are pretty simple, and the beat is something me and my friends might have made in our basement with a MIDI system.  But then it comes to the hook, and the piano comes in, and the beat just grows and becomes more complex and Glynne seems to get even more into it and...

I don't know.  

And that's what I'm saying.  I think Grande has the inside track, but I also wonder of she's competing against herself with the Zedd-fueled "Break Free," or even with her song-mate's own song (Iggy's "Fancy")?  Is Derulo doing the same thing to himself, with "Wiggle"?   Should I be looking more at up-and-comer Sam Smith (I love "Latch"--and the accoustic version is really good, too) or veteran Usher's "Good Kisser"?  Am I discounting "Happy" too soon?

The fact is, I don't know of we've gotten our song or the summer of 2014 yet.   We've had some good songs, yes, but nothing that's screamed out at us.

The good thing: we've still got some time.  And even of we don't have a definitive champion, I'm pretty happy with what we've gotten so far.

It may not equate to a single great song, but it's adding up to a really strong playlist.*

*i was going to write mix-tape, but then remembered when I was.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Amazon, Hachette, and...oh yeah, I have a blog.

(I originally conceived this to be a series of tweets, but in the end, it was just to much to say, but that's why it might seem a bit choppy).

Lots of letters going around about Amazon and Hachette.   I have thoughts (that are solely my own).  

The petition is interesting, in that I don’t know what it’s trying to accomplish. Support Amazon? That’s fine…but why do they really need support? I'm pretty sure they're doing okay on their own (consider that Amazon rarely makes statements, making this one from Russ Grandinetti so intriguing).

But it does bring up some good points, namely: publishing is evolving, and there are certain advantages to the Amazon model: 

  • It does pay higher royalties 
  • The author does have more control 
  • It generally has lower prices 

On the other hand, there are problems with the petition’s arguments: 

  • eBook royalties are on net revenue, NOT list price (for everyone) 
  • “traditional publishing” offers many resources in addition to advances and royalties: things that indy authors have to pay out of their pockets 
  • The digital bookspace IS growing, but print is by no means dead, and that’s an important component for both writers and readers 


Sp why ANY author would want to burn a potential avenue to new readers (especially Howey, who has a deal with S&S)—in either direction—is strange to me.  Multiple eggs.  One basket. 

And Amazon has been great for many authors—but so has traditional publishing (even with the BN kerfluffle, how many pBooks did WOOL sell?).

The fact is, the number of indy authors making a living off their writing is a tiny percentage of the number of indy authors.  This is true of all authors, anywhere. Yes, at least authors ARE making money off their works, when they might have been denied the opportunity before, but how many are actually able to quit their jobs versus how many authors have a self-published book?

The odds are stacked against you, no matter what.

And too, like Cory Doctorow's article points out, if you're stuck into an eco-system, how long before that eco-system turns on you? More on that below.

For now, though, I'd like to take a look at the letter from the multiple authors, which is also interesting, and it also feels like a sincere plea.  But… 

Yes, these authors have made Amazon millions.  But, in return, Amazon has sold millions of their books, making them millions. 

As publishers, we should be worried about Amazon cutting into our profits—we’re businesses, after all. 

But we also don’t seem willing to “stand up for principle” either.  Why don’t we pull our books from Amazon?  Because we know it won’t truly hurt them. 

And yes, you could email Bezos if you’re upset by this.  But shouldn't you also email the head of Hachette (or, if we're remembering who we're actually dealing with here, Lagardère Publishing)? Tell them to maybe start selling books directly, and at a discount? 

But they won’t do that: it would upset other booksellers (bookstores, iTunes, Kobo, etc), and that’s the catch-22. Books are a business dependent on two other businesses: 

  • First: authors, to produce content. 


  • Second: booksellers, to sell that content.

  
And that’s why Hachette won’t just say “screw you” to Amazon: because Amazon still makes them too much money.

As I said above, Cory Doctorow notes this in his article in The Guardian.  He calls Hachette hostages... or at least the headline does.

But the headline is a bit misleading (and I'd love to know if it was Cory or the copy-chief who came up with it) when you read the article, because the article also talks about what the change.org petitition says (although perhaps not as eloquently):

Namely, that most publishers are stuck in the Amazon eco-system because of choices THEY made. And the only way to change is to violently rip our DRM from that system.  In other words, Hachette is a hostage, but they also walked into the rusty van because Amazon had them a lot of candy.

And now they have a stomach ache.

 Yes, the "traditiona" model still works, but nobody has said it’s perfect (and I think even the best-paid authors would agree—I know every agent I talks to would!).  Especially if the value of a publishing contract is solely in the terms of advances and royalties (and not the resources a publisher is also going to--or supposed to--provide the author and their book).

It's important, though, to remember that the model isn't really in question in the current dispute.  And, even more important, neither company is negotiating in terms of the authors.  

So if Hachette “wins,” it’s not like they’re going to up their royalty splits with the authors.

These are two giant companies.  Sadly, I doubt individual authors even come up in these meetings, except as potential leverage. 
  
As an aside, I’ve talked about this with many of my friends outside of publishing, and the thing is: they couldn't tell you the difference between publishers and imprints.Many have heard of Random House and Penguin, but most don’t follow imprints (or know who publishes their favorite authors). We've spent so much time with "author as the brand," that hearing a bookstore has a sale on "Hachette books" can't mean a whole heck of a lot to most readers.  Even I can't name all the authors an imprints at my own company, let alone at Hachette. 

So while most people seem to side with the authors on this (including me: I want to be clear, I think it sucks that they're books aren't available through Amazon; I'll also be clear: I buy most of my books through Amazon, and tend to only buy them when they're on steep discount), I don’t think there’s much indignation against Amazon outside the industry. 

And that’s sad: it should be a bigger deal. 

But it should also be a wake-up call to publishers, since we've given away much of our connection to readers.
  
It wasn't long ago that we all clapped when Amazon came on the stage, and it was even more recent that we all were excited for the possibility of Kindle.

And we also forgot (and tend to forget) this fact: this is a business, and Amazon is a business, and their job isn’t to “preserve literature” (to loosely paraphrase James Patterson).

 Amazon isn’t a museum.  It’s not a curator.  It’s a store.  And unless you publish directly with them, they’re not an author’s partner.  They're their distributor.

But the author letter seems to think they ARE partners, especially when they talk about how authors have provided tons of content for Amazon.  But it’s the same they’d do for anything where there’s an opportunity to sell more books, which is almost certainly how Amazon views it, too: you reach our customers through our promotions, you sell more books, WE sell more books, and everyone makes more money.
  
And consider the argument that the authors are doing this for free, and deserve some consideration now in return (The argument basically reading "after all we did for you, and this is how you repay us?").  

Now consider that a blog post on Amazon reaches 100,000s of readers (and potentially millions): ad space on one of the biggest websites in the world isn’t exactly content-for-nothing.

 I know, it sounds like I'm defending Amazon.  And, on some points I am.Yes, I worked at Amazon, and I loved it.  I think the people there are great, and the authors I worked with amazing people.

But I didn’t work on the retail side.  And if I did, I still wasn’t at the level where I would have been in on these discussions.   

I say this all because I'm not trying to apologize for them.  I just think I bring a different perspective, one from both sides, that might be interesting to others (I do wish it was also a bit more interesting reading, but it's definitely a bit disjointed--I DO apologize for that!).

 Obviously you’re free to disagree with me (heck, I’m disagreeing with most of you!).  But I can't help feel frustrated that this discussion seems so narrowly focused.  Especially since, as an industry, we should be looking beyond this immediate moment. It's an important moment, and shouldn't be dismissed, but unless we look down the road, and look where this will land (and not in the hope that the DOJ will break-up Amazon or somehow they'll find the error of their ways, but things in OUR power), we are in such a touch spot.

What we should be doing is:

  • We should be exploring ways to have better control over our own product.
  • We should be more dynamic with our business dealings: lower advances, escalating royalties, bonus structures. 
  • We should be building our brands—and NOT just the authors, but our imprints. 
  •  We should innovate and take risks, instead of reacting.
  •  We should have long-term plans that might radically change some underlying principles of our business.

 How do we implement these changes?  How do we innovate?  Those are the tough questions.

But they’re questions that are necessary and immediate.  Amazon has shown their hand: they’re not defenders of content, nor should we expect them to be. It's naive to think that a store owes us anything 

*Remember, they took a risk of selling the product, creating an infrastructure and overhead on their own dime.  Too, remember that Amazon doesn't return books back to publishers; they accept all the risk when they make book orders.

No, they aren't books' defenders. WE are.  Publishers.  Authors.  It’s OUR content.  

(Another aside: That’s where the petition is both wrong AND spot on. As an author, you  have options, and one of them is a partnership with a publisher.  That partnership is a collaboration, and it isn’t a one-way street of communication. For some authors, it will feel like that.  Hell, for some editors, it feels like that.  For there are authors who don’t want to be in a partnership—they want to be in control from soup-to-nuts. And, if you’re willing to do the work, then BE in control: self-publish! But if you want the resources, access, and expertise, then a publisher (even Amazon Publishing) will require compromise.  A good one will, at least. I can’t speak for all publishers.  Sometimes I can’t speak for myself: I get frustrated when author’s don’t take my suggestions.  But that’s because there ARE people involved.)

And unless we once again take ownership of that content (which other publishers--self-publishers--are doing), it can look like that bleak future that keeps getting predicted for the industry is becoming more an more a reality. And a lot of people are going to find themselves in a tough spot, authors and publishers alike.

Yet, that’s the thing I think keeps getting lost: this dispute isn’t about people. 

 Yes, it AFFECTS people.  It affects them big time.

 But this is about money.  This is about market share.  This is about leverage and power.  It’s tangentially about books, and even less so about authors.

I hate that’s the case, but unless we take a step back from our fear and anger (or adulation and reverence), it’s difficult to talk about this in a way that may actually generate solutions.  And that should be what we're trying to take from this, at least at the industry level.  Because whatever the outcome, things have now radically changed for books and authors.

The people who continue to be radical in changing more are surely going to find themselves in a better space.

---

One last thing: I started this because this is all rhetoric.  These letters.  Amazon’s and Hachette’s statements.  Even my words, now.

 These aren’t facts without emotion: all of these communications are designed to help you take a side.  I'm not a journalist.  Rather, I'm a guy with a blog and some experience on both sides of the fence.

 So it’s easy to fall into the trap of the semantic argument: nitpicking individual words and phrases—that’s how debaters do it.  Looking back at my words, I've done it a few times myself.

 But always consider: what are these people really trying to say.  

  • Is Amazon really good for customers? 
  • Do they really champion authors?
  • Is Hachette acting in their authors best interest? 
  • Do they truly care about readers, per se?


Because actions speak louder than words.  And unfortunately, Amazon is the only one acting. 



And with that, I’m going to read some more submissions.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Less than a Year


Between posts, that is. I'm very proud of my commitment to this blog.

I'm going to try for shorter posts in the hopes that I'll be better at actively posting.

I figured I'd start off talking about a little show called "Glee." Now I realize we're already deep into the second season, so it's not really "new," but I had a couple of things I wanted to mention.



First off--Jane Lynch is amazing, and Sue Sylvester is already one of my favorite characters of all-time.

Second--A close second is Kurt's dad (whose name I just realized was Burt, which rhymes with Kurt...), played by the very underrated Mike O'Malley. This is the kind of dad I believe I have, and the kind of dad everybody deserves. Every time you think he's going to fail because Kurt is gay, he steps up and brings the awesome. I love Sue Sylvester, but Burt Hummel is my favorite character on the show.

Third--My favorite songs so far (in no particular order, although I'd probably put "Teenage Dream," "Valerie," "Time of My Life," "What it Feels Like for a Girl," and "Don't Stop Believin'" at the top):







Faithfully
Valerie
I Had the Time of My Life
Teenage Dream
One Last Bell
Lady is a Tramp
Don't Stop Believin'
What it Feels Like For a Girl
The Only Exception
Take a Bow
Taking Chances
Baby it's Cold
Defying Gravity
Poker Face
Everlasting Love
Safety Dance
Give up the Funk

Fourth--I do hope Darren Criss (shown above singing "Teenage Dream") is on the show to stay. He's brought a great male pop voice to the cast.

Fifth--This isn't a guilty pleasure. "Glee" is a good show, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

A Mos Excellent Letter

Dear Mr. Mos Def,

I wish you were a better actor.

There, I said it.

It's not that you're a particularly bad actor, but I just keep waiting for that moment when your talent will make me think: Okay, this guy can act. I'm still waiting.

Oh, there have been glimpses, starting with your work as Ford Prefect in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. For sure, the humor of that movie was relatively understated, too, so there wasn't much for you to do that seemed to require much specialized acting. In other words, you played the character in much the same way you act in interviews: quiet, with a dry wit and a little over-the-top clowning. It was a competent performance, but nothing to write a blog post about...

Beyond your role in The Italian Job--a rather mumbling mess that underwhelmed in the face of even Mark Wahlberg's poor performance (bailed out by a Donald Sutherland cameo, the always fantastic Ed Norton, great action sequences, and a particularly gorgeous Charlize Theron)--the only things I remember you in were some rather green appearances on "The Dave Chappelle Show" and the underrated Be Kind, Rewind.

It is to the latter I wish to discuss. For the first time, you were thrust to the forefront--and you weren't half-bad. Alas, that's the best I can do as far as a review goes at the moment. Because while I enjoyed the movie, and feel your role in it helped give a straight-man to the antic Jack Black, ultimately I can't help feel anyone could have stepped into that role. They may not have been so realistically charming (Denzel, Taye Diggs, and Will Smith need not apply), but I'm sure there are plenty of young, black actors who could have played that part.

Hell, Nick Cannon wouldn't have been a bad choice.

And that's what I'm saying: You're 100% more talented than Nick Cannon, and yet, right now, I'd say he's a better actor. And unlike my letter to your Italian Job co-star, Jason Statham, it's not as if you're being given limiting roles. Subdued, perhaps, but certainly not action-oriented drivel that Statham has carved out as his little niche. You're being given ACTING jobs, and yet, for the moment, I'm not exactly sure why.

The good news is that there's hope, which is that you are still relatively young to the game. Watch early episodes of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" and you'll see Will Smith trying to get by on charm alone--he's not acting, he's overacting. Now, though, I'd say he's legitimately one of the best actors working today, in any genre.

Yours isn't a problem of overacting, but underacting. For someone who brings so much life and bravado to the stage or an album, I find it hard to believe your this reserved. And yet, you come across as almost shy when I see you on screen.

You're better than that.

So keep working on your craft.

And, while your at it, do another Black Star and/or solo album, because, really, while you're not the greatest actor, your definitely one of the best rappers.

Sincerely,

David

Saturday, April 17, 2010

The West Wing and the "wild" West--kind of

I've been finishing going through some favorite episodes of mine from the "West Wing," and I just got to the finale. Now, I love this series, and think it's probably one of the best things done on television--especially that it started strong, fixed mistakes it might have made (Moira Kelly, for example), and had an end-game in mind. That last is very important, because they could have easily kept the show going with Matt Santos as President, but it wouldn't have been the same.

But my one beef is the final line. The President and Abbey are on the plane, and Abbey asks "Jed, what are you thinking about." Now, anyone who's watched the series (and, really, why would you watch the finale if you haven't watched the series), know that the best line--nay, the perfect line--would have been "What's next?" Instead, he says "Tomorrow," and then they zoom out to the plane flying through the sky.

What a wasted opportunity. Bartlett must have said "What's next?" dozens of times, establishing it as probably the only catch-phrase from seven seasons. I remember watching the finale when it first aired and feeling cheated when they didn't grab that opportunity.

Ah, well.




In new TV, I'm really excited about "Justified". I've generally liked previous adaptations of Elmore Leonard books (Get Shorty, for example), but I've never read any of them. "Justified" has the same flavor of Get Shorty--it's violent and darkly funny--and the main character is both charming and menacing. I especially like the casting of Timothy Olyphant, who I though was underrated after Go and even Gone in Sixty Seconds. I look forward to what FX can do with this series, and I hope it sticks around for a while.