I think the hardest part of any writing endeavor will always be the ending. Say what you will about the importance of introductions, the presentation of information – the opening moments – are relatively easy. It doesn’t take much to get a reader interested. For the most part, the fact that they’ve opened the book is generally enough for at least a couple of pages. Obviously you then need to develop something, but again, as readers, we’re generally pretty easy to please.
Remember, I did say “relatively.”
If you think about it in double-entendre terms, it’s not that hard to get to some sort of climax (Note: guy writing this). It is the afterwards (the Afterward, if you will) that is so often disappointing. While the author is patting himself on the back for bringing off the plot to spectacular fruition, the reader is left thinking: are we done? It takes a great writer, like a great lover (I wasn’t sure if you were with me on my double-entendre train), to make sure all parties involved are satisfied.
What I’m presenting you was not a great lover.
In the world of literary accomplishment, it’s usually quite an honor for a British (Commonwealth) writer to be on the short-list for the Man Booker Prize. Essentially an English Pulitzer, it’s also a bit high on its own pretensions. Case in point: Mister Pip.
This is not a bad book. I want to make that clear right now. Lloyd Jones does something imaginative with the post-colonial genre, namely, re-appropriate a classic, canonical text to serve as both a plot-device and centering point for the novel. For those of you not quite on the allusion wave-length, Mister Pip is referring to Philip Pirrip, or Pip, from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations.
The story is about an island somewhere in the South Pacific where the people live in what begins as peaceful semi-isolation. Although not completely disconnected (Mathilda, the young girl who is the narrator, mentions her father, like many other men, have gone to Australia to work), they are basically unconcerned about what’s going on around them. Much of that could be because of our narrator being so young, but the picture we get is a peaceful, happy community.
But then war comes. War brings an end to power, an end to packaged food, and an end to medicine. In their place, it brings the beginning of a school led by Mr. Watts, a.k.a. “Popeye,” the lone white man left on the island. Admitting that he’s not the greatest teacher, Mr. Watts does his best impression of Danny DeVito in Renaissance Man and decides to read to them. Instead of Hamlet, however, Mr. Watts reads Great Expectations.
This is the clever part. This is where the allusions and juxtapositions take place, just as the misinterpretations and word-play (as he tries to explain difficult words to the children who have no context for the world of Pip) come alive. This is the post-colonial moment at its best, where West meets Other, and a new world comes alive.
Yet, it’s also a forced moment, especially as it gets carried out as you move along in the story. When the redskins come and demand to meet Mr. Pip, it seems preposterous that they couldn’t explain the situation even without the aid of the book as proof. It seems equally odd that, with the information, the redskins – with their clearly superior technology – could easily find out about Charles Dickens if they were really so concerned. Perhaps we’re supposed to assume the cruelty of the redskins (and, I have to admit, I’m lost as to who Jones is referring to here), but I think that’s assuming a great deal on his part. The motivations that lead up to the problems are not very believable.
But even with all that, it’s still not a bad novel. Like so many teaching stories, the best moments are the interactions between the students and the teacher. It is only after the violence, the supposed climax, that the reader is left questioning what the deal is with this book. For if the climax was abrupt, then what follows is practically lethargic. After the violence (which isn’t graphic, and therefore not exactly shocking), I just have no more “me” to give except that I know there’s only a few more pages, so I might as well finish. That’s not what I would consider a great recommendation.
Too many things happen that don’t help resolve the climax. The flood – it’s either too symbolic or too cheesy; I can’t decide. Mathilda going to visit Mr. Watts’ home in Wellington – accomplishes little by means of explanation. The reunion with her father is probably designed to be anti-climactic, but it feels even less important when on top of everything else. The one thing that maybe works is that Mathilda feels the compulsion to make her life’s work Dickens. After the connection she makes with the book and the impact it had on her life up to her escape, this makes sense.
I just had stopped caring at that point.
Because, the story wasn’t about Mathilda. It was the story of the island, and, to a lesser degree, Mr. Watts. Mathilda was the narrator and the focalizer, but she wasn’t the protagonist. Not until the very end, after all the other protagonists were left to the wayside, does she become the most important person in the book. Maybe that’s something neat or interesting to do with a novel, but I have to say it leaves me unsatisfied because Jones ends up concluding a story that isn’t the same one that we read.
If you have to choose a book to read, stick with the inspiration, and leave Mister Pip to win its award.
That’s an ending we can all be happy with.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Your Vote Means Nothing
In a world that is dominated by a President, it is odd that we have turned away from our long-standing reliance on precedent. America is, if anything, a traditional country, one that adheres greatly to a concept of history, legality, and documentation. Even during that radical moment when some of the greatest minds of the time gathered together in Philadelphia, they were not attempting something so radical that it was, to them, necessarily treasonous. They were simply trying to come together to proclaim their rights as Englishmen, and, when that failed, proclaim their rights as humans. That is the American tradition, and that is the precedent I’m calling for today.
Just like the Declaration of Independence, what the American people is demanding for is not exactly a dissolution of ties, but rather a codification of grievances that make it clear exactly why we can no longer tolerate the current situation.
It is partially our own fault. Like it or not, we put this President into power. Oh, you might say “I didn’t vote for him,” but you also didn’t rally against him. Was John Kerry the banner to take into battle? No, of course not. How can you draw out voters if it looks like a non-decision? No, the ballot box has been a dismal failure in this regard. Just look to the results of the 2006 Congressional elections. The Democrats, riding the dissatisfaction, took both the House and Senate, only to sit on their hands. And I’m not talking about the war. Say what you will, but the war is almost a non-issue right now, because the war is a problem with no clear-cut solution. We have tied a Gordian Knot centered on Baghdad, and no legislative process will create a positive result.
That is not to say that the Democrats didn’t (don’t) have options. The House – the branch most directly connected with the populace (at least in theory) – has the powers it does because of that tie. The first, and essentially the most powerful, is the power of the purse. Cut off funding, end the war. It really would be as simple as that. But the problem is that this is portrayed as a political solution, which paints it as distasteful. It doesn’t take a genius to oppose such a plan with an “abandoning the troops” attack-campaign. What it does take is a genius – a leader – to do it anyway. To rally his troops in Congress to take control of what the Constitution gives them control over. But that person was no where to be found. Rhetoric gets you elected. Bold moves rarely get you re-elected.
The other power is even more stigmatized, and that is because it has only been used for purely political reasons. Both Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton were impeached not because they had committed “high crimes and misdemeanors,” but because the opposition saw an opportunity and used the system to try to exploit it. This is not the case today. Bush has broken the law. He has broken it knowingly – and flaunted it – or unknowingly, meaning he’s been criminally negligent. The NSA wire-tapping alone is a cut-and-dried example of him illegally suspending habeas corpus and violating both the Fourth and Fifth (and some might argue First) Amendments. And yet, because of the perceived political nature (and the unfortunate reality that “political” is almost entirely bereft of positive meaning today), no one is brave enough to put it to a vote. It’s not as if, like two years ago, the Republicans controlled the Ways and Means Committee, thus shelving any such call. It is the Democrat’s Congress, and they have failed us in their pledges from a year ago.
So what’s that leave? Precedent.
Just like the Continental Congress, or the militias at Lexington and Concord, or even the saboteurs of the Boston Tea Party, it is time for civil disobedience.
But not protesting. Protesting is simply standing and talking. It is not action. We are past talk. We are past petition and bargaining. We are past all that, because they are rusted weapons in our ever-depleting arsenal. If a political problem can not be solved in a political manner, then it is incumbent on the people – it is not only our right, but our duty – to secure what has been taken from us.
So what do I propose? After reading Garret Keizer’s essay “Specific Suggestion: General Strike” in the October issue of Harper’s, I was inspired. His call for a general strike – a power of the purse that we can actually effect – seemed both radical and yet beautiful in its simplicity. And yet, even Mr. Keizer seems to admit that to organize such a strike would be a logistical nightmare. It’s not so much that it would be painful to go through, but that to spread the word, and put it into effect just doesn’t seem feasible. I enjoy the sentiment, but I just can’t see it happening. It requires too much from too many people to all do the same thing, and for a country not inclined to vote, such a political action screams of idealism. Coupled with the mutterings of communism and socialism, and you might be surprised how those concepts still bring a rise out of people. What I’m offering is akin to the strike, but much easier to do.
All you have to do is nothing.
Or rather, a specific nothing: don’t pay your taxes.
Let April 15 roll around, and don’t send in your W-2’s or your 1040’s. Don’t gather your receipts and don’t stress out about being audited. Simply don’t.
Because here’s the thing: it’s not so much the cutting off of funds (although there is a bit of that, most of us get our taxes taken out of our paychecks already). It’s more the logistical nightmare it creates for the government. Think of the economic chaos the potential of not receiving the taxes the government planned on (banked on) collecting. Do you think China, which holds a great deal of our debt in their banks, would not rumble about calling in the loans? Do you think the stock markets wouldn’t shudder at the possibility? This is pure supply-and-demand. In its beautiful irony, it is a free-market solution to a problem predicated on free markets.
The best part about it is that it is the threat that works. And it doesn’t rely on the entire population, either. If one percent of the population didn’t send in their taxes, the problems would be enormous. If ten percent didn’t, it would be catastrophic. Now imagine the entire Democratic Party got their act together? Or the cities of San Francisco, New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, and Portland? There’s simply no way they could possibly muster the man-power to do anything about it. The reason it's feasible, too, is because people don't want to pay their taxes in the first place. By relieving them of a chore they don't want to do, you make it easy for them to act on it. During the Civil Rights movements, they boycotted racist businesses.
I say lets boycott our criminal government.
Sure, they could say that we are only hurting ourselves, that they will have to cut funds from education and health care. But that is a lie. Because all they need to do is sell one of our fighter jets to whatever lovely dictator we want to keep in power (Saudi Arabia has a nice, poetic feel, doesn’t it), and we can keep our programs going. Or we could call in all those no-bid contracts that don’t seem to producing what our tax money (our tax money) is paying for.
In the end, though, it doesn’t matter. Yes, there might be hardship. Civil disobedience is not about comfort. But it is about results. The fact of the matter is that, although it’s wonderful to look towards the future and say “One more year and he’s gone,” it’s the same as saying “I’m going to just going to let this disease run its course.” Does that make sense, when you can, with a little effort, take some medicine? Moreover, is it prudent to think the disease will run its course? I’m not sure about you, but I’m not willing to bet my future on it.
I also think we don’t have to.
Just like the Declaration of Independence, what the American people is demanding for is not exactly a dissolution of ties, but rather a codification of grievances that make it clear exactly why we can no longer tolerate the current situation.
It is partially our own fault. Like it or not, we put this President into power. Oh, you might say “I didn’t vote for him,” but you also didn’t rally against him. Was John Kerry the banner to take into battle? No, of course not. How can you draw out voters if it looks like a non-decision? No, the ballot box has been a dismal failure in this regard. Just look to the results of the 2006 Congressional elections. The Democrats, riding the dissatisfaction, took both the House and Senate, only to sit on their hands. And I’m not talking about the war. Say what you will, but the war is almost a non-issue right now, because the war is a problem with no clear-cut solution. We have tied a Gordian Knot centered on Baghdad, and no legislative process will create a positive result.
That is not to say that the Democrats didn’t (don’t) have options. The House – the branch most directly connected with the populace (at least in theory) – has the powers it does because of that tie. The first, and essentially the most powerful, is the power of the purse. Cut off funding, end the war. It really would be as simple as that. But the problem is that this is portrayed as a political solution, which paints it as distasteful. It doesn’t take a genius to oppose such a plan with an “abandoning the troops” attack-campaign. What it does take is a genius – a leader – to do it anyway. To rally his troops in Congress to take control of what the Constitution gives them control over. But that person was no where to be found. Rhetoric gets you elected. Bold moves rarely get you re-elected.
The other power is even more stigmatized, and that is because it has only been used for purely political reasons. Both Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton were impeached not because they had committed “high crimes and misdemeanors,” but because the opposition saw an opportunity and used the system to try to exploit it. This is not the case today. Bush has broken the law. He has broken it knowingly – and flaunted it – or unknowingly, meaning he’s been criminally negligent. The NSA wire-tapping alone is a cut-and-dried example of him illegally suspending habeas corpus and violating both the Fourth and Fifth (and some might argue First) Amendments. And yet, because of the perceived political nature (and the unfortunate reality that “political” is almost entirely bereft of positive meaning today), no one is brave enough to put it to a vote. It’s not as if, like two years ago, the Republicans controlled the Ways and Means Committee, thus shelving any such call. It is the Democrat’s Congress, and they have failed us in their pledges from a year ago.
So what’s that leave? Precedent.
Just like the Continental Congress, or the militias at Lexington and Concord, or even the saboteurs of the Boston Tea Party, it is time for civil disobedience.
But not protesting. Protesting is simply standing and talking. It is not action. We are past talk. We are past petition and bargaining. We are past all that, because they are rusted weapons in our ever-depleting arsenal. If a political problem can not be solved in a political manner, then it is incumbent on the people – it is not only our right, but our duty – to secure what has been taken from us.
So what do I propose? After reading Garret Keizer’s essay “Specific Suggestion: General Strike” in the October issue of Harper’s, I was inspired. His call for a general strike – a power of the purse that we can actually effect – seemed both radical and yet beautiful in its simplicity. And yet, even Mr. Keizer seems to admit that to organize such a strike would be a logistical nightmare. It’s not so much that it would be painful to go through, but that to spread the word, and put it into effect just doesn’t seem feasible. I enjoy the sentiment, but I just can’t see it happening. It requires too much from too many people to all do the same thing, and for a country not inclined to vote, such a political action screams of idealism. Coupled with the mutterings of communism and socialism, and you might be surprised how those concepts still bring a rise out of people. What I’m offering is akin to the strike, but much easier to do.
All you have to do is nothing.
Or rather, a specific nothing: don’t pay your taxes.
Let April 15 roll around, and don’t send in your W-2’s or your 1040’s. Don’t gather your receipts and don’t stress out about being audited. Simply don’t.
Because here’s the thing: it’s not so much the cutting off of funds (although there is a bit of that, most of us get our taxes taken out of our paychecks already). It’s more the logistical nightmare it creates for the government. Think of the economic chaos the potential of not receiving the taxes the government planned on (banked on) collecting. Do you think China, which holds a great deal of our debt in their banks, would not rumble about calling in the loans? Do you think the stock markets wouldn’t shudder at the possibility? This is pure supply-and-demand. In its beautiful irony, it is a free-market solution to a problem predicated on free markets.
The best part about it is that it is the threat that works. And it doesn’t rely on the entire population, either. If one percent of the population didn’t send in their taxes, the problems would be enormous. If ten percent didn’t, it would be catastrophic. Now imagine the entire Democratic Party got their act together? Or the cities of San Francisco, New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, and Portland? There’s simply no way they could possibly muster the man-power to do anything about it. The reason it's feasible, too, is because people don't want to pay their taxes in the first place. By relieving them of a chore they don't want to do, you make it easy for them to act on it. During the Civil Rights movements, they boycotted racist businesses.
I say lets boycott our criminal government.
Sure, they could say that we are only hurting ourselves, that they will have to cut funds from education and health care. But that is a lie. Because all they need to do is sell one of our fighter jets to whatever lovely dictator we want to keep in power (Saudi Arabia has a nice, poetic feel, doesn’t it), and we can keep our programs going. Or we could call in all those no-bid contracts that don’t seem to producing what our tax money (our tax money) is paying for.
In the end, though, it doesn’t matter. Yes, there might be hardship. Civil disobedience is not about comfort. But it is about results. The fact of the matter is that, although it’s wonderful to look towards the future and say “One more year and he’s gone,” it’s the same as saying “I’m going to just going to let this disease run its course.” Does that make sense, when you can, with a little effort, take some medicine? Moreover, is it prudent to think the disease will run its course? I’m not sure about you, but I’m not willing to bet my future on it.
I also think we don’t have to.
Friday, September 14, 2007
It's Been a Long Time/Since I Left You/With a Dope Beat to Step To
It’s been a while, hasn’t it folks? (Anyone who knows who originally rapped that lyric gets a prize).
I apologize. It’s not easy being me: so much demand, so little time.
All lying aside, I’ve got a lot to say, but perhaps not the most time to say it in, so these might come off as a bit condensed today.
To begin, let me discuss what will undoubtedly be the most quoted movie on college campuses this year. I’m of course speaking about War.
Actually, I’m talking about Superbad, the latest installment from producer Judd Apatow, the man who brought us The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up. I haven’t seen Knocked Up, but I hear it’s very good. I have seen the other two, and I think they might be two of the funnier movies ever made.
That said, I will hold off placing Superbad on the uber-pedestal for just a second. Why? Because, let’s face it: we’ve seen this movie before. As funny as it is, as clever as it is, this is by no means an original story. Let’s see, where else have I seen a teen sex-comedy that get’s interrupted by a series of wacky adventures?
How about:
Dazed and Confused
The Trojan War
Can’t Hardly Wait
Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle
Hell, you could probably throw Go into the mix, too.
The fact is, the one-night-to-make-it-happen shtick is all well and good, but it is not exactly a genius move. No matter what, though, those comparisons (and really, watch The Trojan War, Dazed and Confused and Harold and Kumar and tell me you don’t see similarities with Superbad) are rather arbitrary when it comes down to the fact that Jonah Hill is a hilarious clown and Michael Cera might possible be the most perfect Everyman since Michael J. Fox. Hell, Fox was probably more obviously charming than Cera; Cera’s gift is that he is disarming.
And then he talks nonchalantly about porn while eating his breakfast.
Still, the best parts of the movie revolve around the cops and McLovin. Although definitely more implausible than any other aspect of the movie, the relationship between the three works so well, and the ultimate reveal in the bedroom makes it come back down to Earth enough to work.
Personally, I’d recommend The 40-Year-Old Virgin over Superbad. The chest-waxing scene might possibly be the single funniest scene in American cinema – not sure why I’m singling out “American” cinema, but maybe it’s because so many foreign films come across as unintentionally funny (see Bollywood for examples). But it is also a poor comparison to make. Yes, I believe in the body of Apatow’s works, one outshines the other, but these are both incredibly funny (and funny because they generally “real” – the comedy comes from believing in the characters as being legitimate) movies. I’m sure once Knocked Up comes out on DVD, I’ll say the same thing about it.
In another medium, we enter the audio realm. Some of you may have heard of the “feud” between 50 Cent and Kanye West. If you haven’t, here’s a quick summary:
Both albums came out on September 11 (it’s a Tuesday; albums come out on Tuesday; don’t think too much about the significance of the date), and before they did, 50 Cent said that if Kanye sells more albums than him, he (50) would retire.
Before the albums dropped, I implored people to go out and buy Kanye’s album. Not because I think 50 Cent is a bad rapper (which I do), but more because I wanted 50 to be a liar – and have nobody care.
Let’s face it: do we really believe when celebrities say they are going to “retire?” Heck, even athletes, people who have physical timelines on their careers, have reneged on retiring: Michael Jordan and Roger Clemens are two of the more prominent examples. More close to home for 50 is Jay-Z, who after his phenomenal Black Album, announced his retirement, only to come out a few years later with the rather un-spectacular Kingdom Come.
The point is, a guy named 50 Cent should know it’s all about the money. As such, if you know you can sell millions of dollars worth of records, there’s no way you’re going to walk away from that because of a “bet.” Especially if it takes seemingly little effort on your part (more on this in a moment) to create said album. Mr. Cent, no one is buying your bravado.
The fact remains that I also think he’s a bad rapper (I think I might have mentioned this before). In rap, there are certain things I think make someone successful. First and foremost are beats. Except for the single “In da Club,” not one of his singles really strikes me as having incredible hot beats. Some of them are “all right,” but nothing jumps out at me as being “ooo, I have to download that.” Right after beats, you have flow. Some might say lyrics would go here, but flow, being a musical element, is more about initial connection than lyrics. The first time you hear a song, you normally don’t “hear” all the lyrics. You are too busy absorbing the beat, absorbing the hook, to be truly immersed in the words. Flow, the rate and syncopation of the wording, is something a bit more tactile and elementary. 50’s flow is rather mundane. Yes, I’ve heard him rap relatively fast (relative to Twista or Big Pun, for instance), on the single “She Wants It” for example, but because his voice is slurred and monotone, it comes off as lacking emotion, and therefore a sense of speed.
And clearly voice is an important component, too. With his lazy sound (resulting from being shot a few times), you wonder how into the words he’s singing he really is. Which brings us to lyrics. Perhaps I’m overly sensitive here, but rap should be about word play. Simply rhyming is for Dr. Seuss. The ability to craft clever phrases, to write those “Oh!-lines” (as in “Oh shit! Did you hear that?”), helps separate the boys from the men.
50 simply doesn’t do any of this for me. Yes, “In da Club” was a hot song. But I’m pretty sure if I had Dr. Dre giving me one of his greatest all-time beats, I could write a Number One single.
Seriously.
If you doubt this, take Jay-Z’s last hit, “Show Me What You Got.” Listen to that song (with the amazing Just Blaze beat), and then listen to Li’l Wayne freestyle over it.
Wayne kills it.
Which leads me to Kanye’s album.
Kanye, if you don’t know, was a producer before he became a rapper. After his first album, College Dropout, came out, though, no one doubted the guy could rap. His own great beats, combined with good flow, clever lyrics, and catchy hooks created a unique and exciting sound.
And an ego to match.
But he followed up on his success well, and his second album, Late Registration, was equally as good, if not in some cases better. His ability to wrap the intelligence, hubris, and humor all together combined well with an oddly preppy persona to turn him into a superstar.
Which might be why Graduation, his third album, doesn’t achieve the same greatness. I think he kind of mailed it in. Now, I’m sure he’ll say it’s a great album, but, with all due respect, he would be kidding himself. It starts off well, giving you single-quality songs for pretty much the first half. And then, all of a sudden, it’s like the music stops. Not the album, but the musicality of the songs. By the time you get to a good beat again, you’re wondering what has been happening, and then you hear the lyrics, and it’s essentially Kanye alternating between giving Jay-Z the finger and giving him a blow job.
All of this makes me feel like maybe I’m doing a disservice to 50 Cent. But no, I think I’m right in saying you shouldn’t buy his album.
I just don’t think you should buy Kanye’s, either. Download “Stronger,” “Can’t Tell Me Nothing,” and “Champion,” and save yourself at least 10 dollars (depending on where you buy music and/or download it).
To take a little turn to the audio left (or right, there’s nothing inherently symbolic about which direction the turn is), there is one musical moment that struck me as being very well done.
Now, as I expect titters from the immature amongst you, remember: I like it anyway.
That said, I just wanted to mention that I saw Justin Timberlake’s “FutureSex/LoveShow” on HBO, and it was amazing.
I’m not being hyperbolic here. It is “amazing.”
Timberlake, as a performer, is a cornball. He’s a ham, he’s goofy, and he’s kind of a dork.
But that’s only when he’s not singing and dancing. Because boy can that kid sing, and boy can that kid dance.
It’s one thing to say: Oh, he was in ‘N Sync, so he’s just a studio musician. Everything is doctored. I hate to disillusion you, but he is a seriously talented person, and his live performance proves that.
What works for him so well is that he doesn’t sing outside himself. In other words, he knows his limitations, and he doesn’t try to go past them. That’s not to say he has a ton of limitations to begin with, but it just shows how he has brought himself to be technically sound with is craft.
Perhaps just as impressive is the fact that, in addition to singing and dancing, he also plays three different instruments. Granted, how high the levels on his particular instrument was (as compared to those of his band) is left to be seen, but it certainly looks like he’s playing the right notes (if you look at where his fingers are in relation to the two other guys when he’s playing the keyboard-guitar – that’s right, he rocks out on the keyboard-guitar – and you’ll notice they are all playing the same keys).
More than that, though, it’s simply the fact that his two solo albums have some fantastic songs on them. Whether it was him or others who wrote them is beside the point: he performs them well. It also helps that he’s clearly having a good time on stage. He’s not just “going through the motions.” He definitely has chemistry with the dancers, with the band, and with his background singers. The people click, the music is good, and everything seems to work.
My only complaint is that, knowing the show was going to be on HBO, and the fact that it was performed in New York, wasn’t there any way he could have gotten T.I. and/or Clipse to come do their verses on “My Love” and “Like I Love You,” respectively? I know he doesn’t have them on the tour, but it’s not unheard of to have special guests show up – and you have to think HBO might be willing if it makes the show better. Maybe they were busy, though. Still, it would have made a great show even greater.
So, if you feel the need, check your man-hood at the door and watch this concert. Remember this: guys used to go to Michael Jackson concerts. That’s what this is like, in that Timberlake is an artist of that caliber. Sure, he appeals to the ladies, but should that stop you from enjoying a good show? Because if that’s your argument, than by the same token you wouldn’t watch a movie with Brad Pitt in it, including Fight Club (a male-oriented movie if there ever was one).
And that’s just super gay.
I only wish he would have sung “Dick in a Box” . . .
I’d like to finish on a short but serious point:
I have not read everything you have. I have not seen all the same movies as you. I have not been to all the museums you’ve been to.
This does not make me a bad person. In fact, I’ve probably read many books, seen many movies, and viewed numerous pieces of art that you’ve never experienced. What this means is not that either one of us is deficient in our cultural attainments, but rather that there is so much out there to explore and enjoy and discuss.
So, the next time you are talking with someone and when a book is brought up that they haven’t read, don’t get exasperated. Don’t act shocked. Because it’s not that big of a deal. I haven’t not read it to spite you; I simply haven’t read it. It doesn’t mean I won’t read it. It’s just that at this moment in time, my life-path has diverged from yours.
This is a good thing. We should all be different. In the end, if it’s meant to be a meaningful relationship, we’ll find other commonalities. If not, we can just be two people who haven’t read the same things. But, again, it’s not that big of a deal. It happens.
I’ll fucking get to reading it when I get to it.
Okay?
I apologize. It’s not easy being me: so much demand, so little time.
All lying aside, I’ve got a lot to say, but perhaps not the most time to say it in, so these might come off as a bit condensed today.
To begin, let me discuss what will undoubtedly be the most quoted movie on college campuses this year. I’m of course speaking about War.
Actually, I’m talking about Superbad, the latest installment from producer Judd Apatow, the man who brought us The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up. I haven’t seen Knocked Up, but I hear it’s very good. I have seen the other two, and I think they might be two of the funnier movies ever made.
That said, I will hold off placing Superbad on the uber-pedestal for just a second. Why? Because, let’s face it: we’ve seen this movie before. As funny as it is, as clever as it is, this is by no means an original story. Let’s see, where else have I seen a teen sex-comedy that get’s interrupted by a series of wacky adventures?
How about:
Dazed and Confused
The Trojan War
Can’t Hardly Wait
Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle
Hell, you could probably throw Go into the mix, too.
The fact is, the one-night-to-make-it-happen shtick is all well and good, but it is not exactly a genius move. No matter what, though, those comparisons (and really, watch The Trojan War, Dazed and Confused and Harold and Kumar and tell me you don’t see similarities with Superbad) are rather arbitrary when it comes down to the fact that Jonah Hill is a hilarious clown and Michael Cera might possible be the most perfect Everyman since Michael J. Fox. Hell, Fox was probably more obviously charming than Cera; Cera’s gift is that he is disarming.
And then he talks nonchalantly about porn while eating his breakfast.
Still, the best parts of the movie revolve around the cops and McLovin. Although definitely more implausible than any other aspect of the movie, the relationship between the three works so well, and the ultimate reveal in the bedroom makes it come back down to Earth enough to work.
Personally, I’d recommend The 40-Year-Old Virgin over Superbad. The chest-waxing scene might possibly be the single funniest scene in American cinema – not sure why I’m singling out “American” cinema, but maybe it’s because so many foreign films come across as unintentionally funny (see Bollywood for examples). But it is also a poor comparison to make. Yes, I believe in the body of Apatow’s works, one outshines the other, but these are both incredibly funny (and funny because they generally “real” – the comedy comes from believing in the characters as being legitimate) movies. I’m sure once Knocked Up comes out on DVD, I’ll say the same thing about it.
In another medium, we enter the audio realm. Some of you may have heard of the “feud” between 50 Cent and Kanye West. If you haven’t, here’s a quick summary:
Both albums came out on September 11 (it’s a Tuesday; albums come out on Tuesday; don’t think too much about the significance of the date), and before they did, 50 Cent said that if Kanye sells more albums than him, he (50) would retire.
Before the albums dropped, I implored people to go out and buy Kanye’s album. Not because I think 50 Cent is a bad rapper (which I do), but more because I wanted 50 to be a liar – and have nobody care.
Let’s face it: do we really believe when celebrities say they are going to “retire?” Heck, even athletes, people who have physical timelines on their careers, have reneged on retiring: Michael Jordan and Roger Clemens are two of the more prominent examples. More close to home for 50 is Jay-Z, who after his phenomenal Black Album, announced his retirement, only to come out a few years later with the rather un-spectacular Kingdom Come.
The point is, a guy named 50 Cent should know it’s all about the money. As such, if you know you can sell millions of dollars worth of records, there’s no way you’re going to walk away from that because of a “bet.” Especially if it takes seemingly little effort on your part (more on this in a moment) to create said album. Mr. Cent, no one is buying your bravado.
The fact remains that I also think he’s a bad rapper (I think I might have mentioned this before). In rap, there are certain things I think make someone successful. First and foremost are beats. Except for the single “In da Club,” not one of his singles really strikes me as having incredible hot beats. Some of them are “all right,” but nothing jumps out at me as being “ooo, I have to download that.” Right after beats, you have flow. Some might say lyrics would go here, but flow, being a musical element, is more about initial connection than lyrics. The first time you hear a song, you normally don’t “hear” all the lyrics. You are too busy absorbing the beat, absorbing the hook, to be truly immersed in the words. Flow, the rate and syncopation of the wording, is something a bit more tactile and elementary. 50’s flow is rather mundane. Yes, I’ve heard him rap relatively fast (relative to Twista or Big Pun, for instance), on the single “She Wants It” for example, but because his voice is slurred and monotone, it comes off as lacking emotion, and therefore a sense of speed.
And clearly voice is an important component, too. With his lazy sound (resulting from being shot a few times), you wonder how into the words he’s singing he really is. Which brings us to lyrics. Perhaps I’m overly sensitive here, but rap should be about word play. Simply rhyming is for Dr. Seuss. The ability to craft clever phrases, to write those “Oh!-lines” (as in “Oh shit! Did you hear that?”), helps separate the boys from the men.
50 simply doesn’t do any of this for me. Yes, “In da Club” was a hot song. But I’m pretty sure if I had Dr. Dre giving me one of his greatest all-time beats, I could write a Number One single.
Seriously.
If you doubt this, take Jay-Z’s last hit, “Show Me What You Got.” Listen to that song (with the amazing Just Blaze beat), and then listen to Li’l Wayne freestyle over it.
Wayne kills it.
Which leads me to Kanye’s album.
Kanye, if you don’t know, was a producer before he became a rapper. After his first album, College Dropout, came out, though, no one doubted the guy could rap. His own great beats, combined with good flow, clever lyrics, and catchy hooks created a unique and exciting sound.
And an ego to match.
But he followed up on his success well, and his second album, Late Registration, was equally as good, if not in some cases better. His ability to wrap the intelligence, hubris, and humor all together combined well with an oddly preppy persona to turn him into a superstar.
Which might be why Graduation, his third album, doesn’t achieve the same greatness. I think he kind of mailed it in. Now, I’m sure he’ll say it’s a great album, but, with all due respect, he would be kidding himself. It starts off well, giving you single-quality songs for pretty much the first half. And then, all of a sudden, it’s like the music stops. Not the album, but the musicality of the songs. By the time you get to a good beat again, you’re wondering what has been happening, and then you hear the lyrics, and it’s essentially Kanye alternating between giving Jay-Z the finger and giving him a blow job.
All of this makes me feel like maybe I’m doing a disservice to 50 Cent. But no, I think I’m right in saying you shouldn’t buy his album.
I just don’t think you should buy Kanye’s, either. Download “Stronger,” “Can’t Tell Me Nothing,” and “Champion,” and save yourself at least 10 dollars (depending on where you buy music and/or download it).
To take a little turn to the audio left (or right, there’s nothing inherently symbolic about which direction the turn is), there is one musical moment that struck me as being very well done.
Now, as I expect titters from the immature amongst you, remember: I like it anyway.
That said, I just wanted to mention that I saw Justin Timberlake’s “FutureSex/LoveShow” on HBO, and it was amazing.
I’m not being hyperbolic here. It is “amazing.”
Timberlake, as a performer, is a cornball. He’s a ham, he’s goofy, and he’s kind of a dork.
But that’s only when he’s not singing and dancing. Because boy can that kid sing, and boy can that kid dance.
It’s one thing to say: Oh, he was in ‘N Sync, so he’s just a studio musician. Everything is doctored. I hate to disillusion you, but he is a seriously talented person, and his live performance proves that.
What works for him so well is that he doesn’t sing outside himself. In other words, he knows his limitations, and he doesn’t try to go past them. That’s not to say he has a ton of limitations to begin with, but it just shows how he has brought himself to be technically sound with is craft.
Perhaps just as impressive is the fact that, in addition to singing and dancing, he also plays three different instruments. Granted, how high the levels on his particular instrument was (as compared to those of his band) is left to be seen, but it certainly looks like he’s playing the right notes (if you look at where his fingers are in relation to the two other guys when he’s playing the keyboard-guitar – that’s right, he rocks out on the keyboard-guitar – and you’ll notice they are all playing the same keys).
More than that, though, it’s simply the fact that his two solo albums have some fantastic songs on them. Whether it was him or others who wrote them is beside the point: he performs them well. It also helps that he’s clearly having a good time on stage. He’s not just “going through the motions.” He definitely has chemistry with the dancers, with the band, and with his background singers. The people click, the music is good, and everything seems to work.
My only complaint is that, knowing the show was going to be on HBO, and the fact that it was performed in New York, wasn’t there any way he could have gotten T.I. and/or Clipse to come do their verses on “My Love” and “Like I Love You,” respectively? I know he doesn’t have them on the tour, but it’s not unheard of to have special guests show up – and you have to think HBO might be willing if it makes the show better. Maybe they were busy, though. Still, it would have made a great show even greater.
So, if you feel the need, check your man-hood at the door and watch this concert. Remember this: guys used to go to Michael Jackson concerts. That’s what this is like, in that Timberlake is an artist of that caliber. Sure, he appeals to the ladies, but should that stop you from enjoying a good show? Because if that’s your argument, than by the same token you wouldn’t watch a movie with Brad Pitt in it, including Fight Club (a male-oriented movie if there ever was one).
And that’s just super gay.
I only wish he would have sung “Dick in a Box” . . .
I’d like to finish on a short but serious point:
I have not read everything you have. I have not seen all the same movies as you. I have not been to all the museums you’ve been to.
This does not make me a bad person. In fact, I’ve probably read many books, seen many movies, and viewed numerous pieces of art that you’ve never experienced. What this means is not that either one of us is deficient in our cultural attainments, but rather that there is so much out there to explore and enjoy and discuss.
So, the next time you are talking with someone and when a book is brought up that they haven’t read, don’t get exasperated. Don’t act shocked. Because it’s not that big of a deal. I haven’t not read it to spite you; I simply haven’t read it. It doesn’t mean I won’t read it. It’s just that at this moment in time, my life-path has diverged from yours.
This is a good thing. We should all be different. In the end, if it’s meant to be a meaningful relationship, we’ll find other commonalities. If not, we can just be two people who haven’t read the same things. But, again, it’s not that big of a deal. It happens.
I’ll fucking get to reading it when I get to it.
Okay?
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