Seriously dudes?

You know that golf announcer who thinks American soldiers would murder Nancy Pelosi before touching Osama Bin Laden?

Not shockingly, CBS has declared it an "unacceptable attempt at humor." I love the added burn of calling it an "attempt."

How come all the disgruntled "comedians" like this douche and Glen Beck are invariably recovering alcoholics? One sign of alcoholism is allowing your actions to become socially unacceptable or extreme; you think they'd be more aware of the damaging nature of indulging irrational behaviors and feelings.

+++

Thinking about all this already, I ran into the single most obvious egregious of Obama Derangement Syndrome yet, a guy who accuses Obama of using his Iron Fist Socialist Inexperience to force Paramount Pictures into...sending over a copy of Star Trek. Yeah, I know. Nevermind the fact that Presidents have screened films in the White House ever since Birth of a Nation.

Just what is this guy getting at? Does he seriously think that Obama wanting to see Star Trek, or the press reporting on the fact, is a problem? What, precisely, is his point? Cuz I didn't see one in the article.

Lordy, these people are loons.

Nate

*(I'm not holding double standards, Bush Derangement Syndrome was a very real thing. I know this.)

I don't...I can't remember. I'm sorry

Last night's Fringe really delivered. Not only did we get to see Michael Cerveris' ominous Observer again, but we got a cameo from Clint Howard, as well as the very satisfying death of the show's most irritating character.

What I love about Fringe is how many allusions it contains within one episode. The show assembles very familiar imagery and icons of sci-fi, then constructs a new, rich fiction from not just its plot, but also the audience's recognition of its allusions. Pop culture allusion is the show's bread and butter. For instance the Observer is obviously a shout-out to the bald, mostly silent Watcher of Marvel Comics, but his presence, meaning, and origin within Fringe's universe are entirely new, and founded within the show's own mythology.

Not convinced?

For a better example, last week's episode "Inner Child" referenced E.T. and 2001 very directly within the same scene to great effect. The E.T. reference arrives as Olivia uses Skittles to bond with the subterranean child, recalling E.T. and Eliot's shared love of Reeses Pieces. Twice during the episode when characters are having conversations behind glass, the child seems to understand them, much like HAL silently observed the plan to destroy him in 2001.

The purpose of these allusions was not just to provoke "oh look at that" moments of recognition; by referencing cinema's most iconic benevolent alien and villianous technology, the show poses a question to the viewer: Is this child a misunderstood being capable of love, like E.T., or is he a sign of the dangerous future that awaits our characters, echoing HAL's inhumane pursuit of progress. By recalling these two iconic film characters, the show can convey this dynamic without relying on dialogue or exposition.

You don't have to get the show's references to understand the story (it is rather self-contained), but recognizing these allusions enriches the story through the secondary narrative of the show's engagement with the iconography of the sci-fi pop culture world.

Smart TV is good, no? I'm pumped to hear that it shall be returning in the fall for a full season.

Nate.

PS:
John Noble's performance as Walter Bishop has become so moving. His navigation of the character's broken and haunted psyche has layers of depth that are just beginning to reveal themselves. The scene in the diner with Olivia last night was heartbreaking.

I'm beginning to think that John Locke is going to be trouble.

These are screen caps of my favorite moment on LOST last night. As I have suspected since "The Man Behind the Curtain", Ben's connection with Jacob is an outright lie, a lie that Locke has seen though from the beginning.

Ben's face in the first picture is in reaction to this accusation, and Locke's is in reaction to his reaction. He knows that he just pulled the rug right out from under Ben's entire scheme.

"Follow the Leader" will go down with most fans as one of the best episodes in the show's history, guaranteed.

There was no gigantic twist, no huge reveal, but over the course of the episode, our long-standing assumptions about many characters, and about the show itself, were completely subverted or confirmed, depending on your viewpoint.

Now we know that Richard isn't a benevolent spirit, secretly working for Locke's benefit. He is is master manipulator who is less all-knowing than he seems. I guess we know where Ben got his leadership style.

This episode also made it clear that one must read LOST's second-half narrative as a bizarre mirror image of the show's first three seasons.

Nate.

"[Obama's] just got a great smile."

This article is the perfect eample of why Obama's personality is his greatest political asset.

If Coburn, a die-hard right-winger, was "charmed" by Senator Obama on a personal level, how can the Right hope to demonize him on a national level?

The answer: they can't.

Nate

this is all an illusion

God damn. Mulholland Drive. Jesus. So good.

This was my 4th or 5th time round, and definitely the best yet.

I would be more than okay with this as the consensus Best O' Decade pick...but then again, In the Mood for Love is pretty good...plus Crouching Tiger...

Nate

To die would be an awfully big adventure

I was just discussing my deep-seated love of Peter Pan with one of my roommates, and the conversation ended up centering on PJ Hogan's 2003 film adaptation, of which I am a huge fan.
To me, Hogan's film is the single most thoughtful onscreen treatment of the Peter Pan mythology; it strays from the book in a few instances, but always in service of the story's fundamental purpose. It portrays Captain Hook and Peter as equally tragic figures, whose rivalry is more metaphorical than personal; Captain Hook is the embodiment of everything Peter fears about adulthood (cynicism, pettiness, and failed dreams) while Peter is a reminder of Captain Hook's lost innocence and joy. In the film, neither one is fully capable of love, but while Peter shuns the notion of deep love, Hook secretly longs for the simple comforts of family life. The film treats the source material with respect, accentuating the bittersweet nature of Peter's eternal youth while adding a complicated and engrossing level of nuance to the character of Captain Hook.
I'm done rambling. Sorry 'bout that. Go rent the film.

Nate

You don’t touch Sheldon! Do you want him to explode?

The A.V. Club interview with Jim Parsons is a fantastic read. Parsons plays uber nerd Sheldon on CBS' pleasantly surprising, often very funny Big Bang Theory. His character is the show's Kramer/Barney/Kenneth* breakout, and this is largely due to the deftly comedic performance from Parsons, who never stoops to rudiculing Sheldon's deep-seated social ackwardness. The interview is illuminating; I would love it if more sitcom actors put Parson's level of empathy for Sheldon into their performances, it adds dimension nicely.

Nate

* from Seinfeld, How I Met Your Mother, and 30 Rock, respectively.

The GOP...alienating americans one at a time for the sake of the country

Politically, this decade has been an eventful one, and today, with Specter's big switch, its final months just got a lot more interesting. What began as the decade of "compassionate conservatism" has become the decade of GOP civil war, pitting hardcore social conservatives against more moderate factions of the party in a battle to the death...or something less dramatic.

Let's look at how this 10-year-long debacle began, shall we?

In the 90's, Bill Clinton oversaw the final years of the Boomer-dominated Democratic Party. His reluctance to take strong stances on social issues may have been justified (after all, his early push for the rights of gays in the military did not go too well), but it is a quality that Obama, as well as younger Democratic voters, does not share. With the Lewinsky scandal firmly in the past, Clinton's presidential legacy flourished during Bush's tenure in the White House; "Come Back Bill, All is Forgiven" was a popular bumper sticker slogan during Bush's first term.

But Clinton's presidency was not always so highly regarded; his reign in D.C. was marked by fierce Congressional opposition as well as virulent hostility from the FreeRepublic crowd. Ultimately, the Clinton years did little to cement Democratic influence in Washington, while Newt Gingrich managed to hold more sway than almost every other Speaker of the House before him. So, the decade that began with a pushback against the conservative culture wars of the 1980s ended with weariness and apathy dominating Democratic voters. However, Clinton's presidency strengthened the Democratic party in the long run, solidifying the support of younger voters, as well as de-emphasizing the politically correct, overly cautious elements of the party.

In a similar way, Bush & Cheney may have overseen the final years of the American Right as we know it. Many writers are speculating about a "permanent Democratic majority" the same way Rove spoke about Republican dominance in 2004; but this is as logically unsound an idea as it was when Karl said it in 2004. No party is immune to backlash, and the newly dynamic Democratic party only emerged after eight long, frustrating years of political defeats. That's why I'm convinced that it is impossible to judge the future of the GOP by its complete self-destruction during the 2008 campaign. While Republicans currently lack an effective platform, I'm certain that Obama will provide them with enough fodder to energize their base, and world events always lend themselves to party talking points come election time.

So, the future of the GOP may be uncertain, but I think this whole "death of conservatism" phenomenon is being taken a little too literally. What has happened is the complete erasure of the big tent Republican Party of the 1960s, replaced with a body of voters who value idealogical agreement over practical governance and political pragmatism. Essentially, they have become the Democratic party of the 1980s.

One thing Specter's change of heart indicates is that the battle lines between the parties have been permanently redrawn. For the first time since Ronald Reagan, Republicans have found themselves fighting for the trust of the American public, and losing.

By my reckoning, as well as Megan McCain's, the recent dominance of the Democratic Party is largely due to the Republican refusal to modernize their platform along with changing social norms. The gay marriage issue will provoke legit conservative outrage for another decade, but the younger generations' attitudes to homosexuality are completely out-of-step with the Republican position; as reformed neocon Andrew Sullivan* points out, framing the gay community as godless enemies will only serve to alienate future voters.

The GOP love them some sour grapes, so the reaction to Specter's abandonment has been pretty predictable: Michelle Malkin called him the "head of the Turncoat caucus," and Rush asked him to take Megan McCain with him when he goes. However, Olympia Snowe (another member of Malkin's "Turncoat caucus," I'm sure) hit the nail on the head when she attributed Specter's switch to the "exclusionary policies and views towards moderate Republicans" within the GOP. Snowe may not follow Specter's lead by switching, but she is voicing a very practical argument that a Democrat could not make so effectively.

Of course, many will call both Specter and Snowe RINOs (Republicans in Name Only), and maybe they're correct; but if they don't fit the definition of a Republican, it's because Bush's presidency forever changed the party's identity and purpose.

Nate

*I'm just playin'! Mr. Sullivan has more than made up for the mistakes of his past. He's a-ok in my book.

Sarkozy's a real sonovabitch, ain't he?

I wonder if it's the fact that France is basically the sidekick of every other major Western power that makes him so snipey.

Nate

PS: Truthfully, I love this guy...he's the good kind of sonovabitch.

I had a dream the media would be so different from this hellish echo chamber

It may not be the American media this time, but, as always, you can count on the press to completely miss the point of a massive cultural phenomenon.

I'm referring to the coverage of Susan Boyle's recent performance on Britain's Got Talent. If you are unfamiliar with the show, it's essentially a variety/reality show competition, a la the [insert country here] Idol formula. The last big story to emerge from the show was the surprise success of Paul Potts, an unassuming cellphone salesman who happened to sing opera masterfully. His audition performance (and Ms. Boyle's, for that matter) is probably one of the greatest moments reality television has to offer, and he has since become an international superstar. The #1 album in 15 countries kind of superstar.

Ms. Boyle is a similar figure: she is forty-seven, unmarried, and spent all her life in the same village in Scotland; in other words, she doesn't possess any typical "showbiz" qualities. In fact, when she walks on stage, the audience (as well as the judges) are prepared to laugh her right back off of it. But then, within the first few bars of "I Dreamed a Dream" (one of my favorite B-Way ballads, by the way), a strange thing happened: the audience started clapping wildly and cheering her on with a standing ovation.

Throughout her performance, the show would cut to Simon Cowell's uncharacteristically bemused face, just to make its point even clearer: Cynical snarkiness has been the only thing keeping this beautiful voice silent, and the notion that this cynicism is synonymous with wisdom or taste is a false one.

Before she sang, Ms. Boyle told Simon that the only reason she hadn't sung professionally was that she "never had the chance." From what I can tell, if most people had their way, Susan would have never been given the opportunity. When she confessed that her dream was to be a singer like Elaine Page, the audience's reaction (both in theater, and, assumedly, at home) was one of derision, based solely on her appearance and manner.

Ms. Boyle is an ordinary person, no uglier or frumpier than most women her age, but since her television debut, writers have dubbed her, among other things, a "hairy angel...dowdy, with thick eyebrows."

This rubs me entirely the wrong way. How is it that the media can only celebrate a woman's inner beauty by pointing out her physical imperfections? I understand that these writers need to set the stage for the "surprising" nature of her performance, but come on people, cruel words are still cruel words.

Luckily for her, Ms. Boyle's life has prepared her for cruelty (I don't want to go too far into her backstory, but she suffers from a learning disability and has been teased about her appearance since she was a child); she can probably take all these articles on the chin without batting her eye. But that doesn't mean she should be given nothing but back-handed compliments from writers claiming to be so personally moved by her voice.

Let me put it more succinctly: If you are write an article about how Ms. Boyle proves the worthlessness of image-based expectations, try not to call her fat and ugly in your first sentence. That sort of defeats the purpose.

Nate

PS: This lady gets it. Good on her.