This is it. We've had a good run here on Petty Annoyances, but I'm bringing this journal to a close. Not permanently, maybe, but for the forseeable future. When I started this thing I had a huge, out of control list of things that irritated me, annoyed me and just generally pissed me off. Thanks to the magic of the internet though, I've been able to faithfully report all these things, and have even thrown in a few new ones as they came up.
But now the well is dry, so to speak. It's time to go live life a little more and find brand new things to complain about. Perhaps in time, I'll be overflowing with rage again and will return to this trusted forum to spew the bile. One can only hope.
Some things I was planning to write about but could never really work up the umph for: the mighty badness of the Star Wars prequel trilogy, the profound ugliness of a car door opening at a red light, a head emerging, and a thick loogie slowly descending - and the fact that although the movie Psycho featured arguably the greatest single performance of any movie, the finest direction of any movie, the best score and one of the best scripts, it was denied nominations for any of those things at the 1960 Oscars. But hey, The Apartment. We watch that Jack Lemmon classic allllll the time, right?
So I say thank you to anyone out there who's enjoyed these whiny essays, and, like the majestic hawk, must now fly away deep into the high, high mountains, where, being a hawk, I dwell exclusively. On the bright side, I've always wanted to be able to say I was putting something "on hiatus" for "retooling" and now I can.
I leave you with a look at the brighter side of life, because one can't be negative all the time.
20 Things I Like
1. When the dryer lint comes cleanly off the screen with a single snap of the wrist
2. Boolean modifiers
3. Removing your feet from ski boots.
4. Any commercial with William Shatner
5. Toilet paper with some bite
6. Porn DVD commentary
7. The names Launchpad McQuack and Judge Learned Hand
8. Pulling up to the parking space exactly as the song is ending
9. The funky, staccato, syncopated vocal cadences of CNN's Richard Quest. When the guy speaks it's like jazz improv.
10. Using the rare but grammatically correct "Sons of a bitch." when insulting brothers.
11. Dreaming about what you'd have done to the thief if you'd have caught him red handed.
12. The terms fracas, melee, brouhaha, hubbub, foofaraw, hullabaloo, and kerfuffle.
13. Rolling a hard eight
14. Barbershop chairs that face away from the mirror. This is genius! I never realized how relaxing a haircut can be when you're not staring into your own eyes for 20 straight minutes. Plus, no mirror, I can completely ignore the barber's craft. I go from unkempt to well groomed with absolutely no information about the transition. This is really how it should be.
15. Ben Stein
16. When you and another guy at the urinal start peeing at pretty much the same time. And you keep going, and he keeps going, and you keep going, and it's looking to be a real marathon, and you make an effort to pace yourself, and it gets to the point where you have serious doubts if you're going to win this one - but wait! He's wavering... he tinkles to a stop! You're still in the zone! Victory!
17. The laughable No U-Turn sign. Ha! No one enforces you!
18. Need a penny, take a penny. Have a penny, leave a penny.
19. Happy old toothless guys. Generally I don't like old people, but the happy old toothless guys who you find at the poker table are your instant best friends. They were crane operators for 50 years, or sanitation workers, or whatever, and they'll be glad to tell you how much fun it was. They have an endless supply of great dirty jokes, they'll drink all night, they bathe with surprising regularity, and they have that great smile that just makes you think "Yeah, I could pick up that spare." Happy old toothless guys, I salute you.
20. “He peppered in God’s lo mein.”
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Thursday, March 03, 2005
The Ice Cream Man
I hate you, ice cream man.
Every day, for two full hours, the ice cream man makes his rounds outside my bedroom window. He's there from 10 to 11 am, and then there again from about 3 to 4.
This guy isn't a Mr. Softee or some sort of national ice cream truck outfit. He's just a dude with a shabby looking mexican coyote van equipped with a loudspeaker. As a convenience to residents in my complex, the front gates are left open during business hours to keep traffic moving. In comes the ice cream man. He circles our little block endless times, the schreechy little synthesized song playing over and over in a 15 second loop.
We have plenty of kids in the complex, which is why he's so happy to be here. Our complex has a no solicitation rule, but it isn't enforced. At the end of my tether one time, having listened to this 15 second high pitched ditty for the 6 thousandth time in single day, I went to management and begged them to do something. They get lots of complaints, they say. They've told him to go away, they say. He agrees to not come back, they say. And then he comes back, right on schedule.
One time I woke up at 3am with the song playing loudly and perfectly in my ears. (The song is kinda like "Over There" except weirder and shorter) It was playing note-perfect in my head. It took me a minute to realize I was hallucinating it. My first thought was simply, "No!!!!!! Not now, ice cream man! Mercy! Mercy!"
Imagine the scene on another day. A frigid January morning. About 10:00 am. A steady splattering of freezing rain. The sort of morning where you huddle next to the heater with a blanket wrapped around you. And then... the ice cream man.... over therrrrrre..... over therrrrrre..... send the word, flip the bird, over therrrrrre...
Because the yanks are coming.
The yanks are coming.
The drums rum-tumming everywherrrre...
Repeat 50 times.
Mr. Softee would never hustle kids for a sugar fix on a day like that. He has better things to do. But not our ice cream man.
Sometimes I fantasize about visiting actual violence on the ice cream man. Pulling him out of his truck Reginald Denny style. Slashing his tires. Gouging him repeatedly in the face with an Italian Ice cardboard spoon.
If anyone can suggest some actual, feasable solutions for my ice cream man problem, or at least come up with some ideas for how to make his life miserable, I'd be interested and appreciative.
P.S. If there was really more to Acrobat than just the Reader, do you think maybe they'd stop reminding you after 10 or 15 years? You think? Just putting that out there.
Every day, for two full hours, the ice cream man makes his rounds outside my bedroom window. He's there from 10 to 11 am, and then there again from about 3 to 4.
This guy isn't a Mr. Softee or some sort of national ice cream truck outfit. He's just a dude with a shabby looking mexican coyote van equipped with a loudspeaker. As a convenience to residents in my complex, the front gates are left open during business hours to keep traffic moving. In comes the ice cream man. He circles our little block endless times, the schreechy little synthesized song playing over and over in a 15 second loop.
We have plenty of kids in the complex, which is why he's so happy to be here. Our complex has a no solicitation rule, but it isn't enforced. At the end of my tether one time, having listened to this 15 second high pitched ditty for the 6 thousandth time in single day, I went to management and begged them to do something. They get lots of complaints, they say. They've told him to go away, they say. He agrees to not come back, they say. And then he comes back, right on schedule.
One time I woke up at 3am with the song playing loudly and perfectly in my ears. (The song is kinda like "Over There" except weirder and shorter) It was playing note-perfect in my head. It took me a minute to realize I was hallucinating it. My first thought was simply, "No!!!!!! Not now, ice cream man! Mercy! Mercy!"
Imagine the scene on another day. A frigid January morning. About 10:00 am. A steady splattering of freezing rain. The sort of morning where you huddle next to the heater with a blanket wrapped around you. And then... the ice cream man.... over therrrrrre..... over therrrrrre..... send the word, flip the bird, over therrrrrre...
Because the yanks are coming.
The yanks are coming.
The drums rum-tumming everywherrrre...
Repeat 50 times.
Mr. Softee would never hustle kids for a sugar fix on a day like that. He has better things to do. But not our ice cream man.
Sometimes I fantasize about visiting actual violence on the ice cream man. Pulling him out of his truck Reginald Denny style. Slashing his tires. Gouging him repeatedly in the face with an Italian Ice cardboard spoon.
If anyone can suggest some actual, feasable solutions for my ice cream man problem, or at least come up with some ideas for how to make his life miserable, I'd be interested and appreciative.
P.S. If there was really more to Acrobat than just the Reader, do you think maybe they'd stop reminding you after 10 or 15 years? You think? Just putting that out there.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
120 Annoyances
101. The insane difficulty of the average text adventure.
102. The black Chuckle.
103. Someone walking in front of you - just fast enough that you can't overtake them, just slow enough that you can't get into a comfortable gait.
104. "Professional driver, closed course."
105. People who use the "[sic]" convention of preserving a misspelling within a quote for no reason except to belittle the author of the quote. So often in printed debate you see someone quoting their opponent and throwing in the "[sic]" like it's some kind of sophisticated riposte. If pointing out someone's spelling mistake is important enough to be included in your argument, then you're on weak ground, in my opinion.
106. The FBI Warning
107. An ice cold, unspreadable chunk of cream cheese.
108. Edutainment
109. Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates.
110. Children in a video arcade who desperately, pathetically try to glean a sliver of enjoyment by pretending to control a demo screen. I don't know why this angers me. I just want to smack them.
111. Fusion cuisine. Why are the portions so small?
112. Rhyming jail with bail. Also mad, bad, sad, and glad.
113. When you drop something - a paper clip, a quarter, a matchbook - and it's just gone. You look around, you look under the chair - everywhere, but it is just not there.
114. Fighting a losing battle for armrest real estate with a big guy on a plane.
115. When your loud turn signal really messes up the good part of the song.
116. Businesses with phone numbers that make you hunt around on your phone for the letters of the alphabet, and especially those whose spelled-out numbers exceed the 7-digit maximum. By the time you've realized it was a total waste of time to find the "E" and the "R", you've already done it.
117. Poetry in a foreign language that suspiciously still rhymes in English when it's translated. I'm no expert on poetry, but how can preserving the rhyme structure of a translated poem possibly be considered more important than preserving the authenticity of the text?
118. Warm, wet, spongy, undercooked pepperoni - the result of some pizzarias' moronic policy to cook the toppings under the cheese.
119. Eraserhead, Begotten and Tetsuo the Iron Man.
120. When you get on a really long line, and as you progress through it, no one gets in line behind you.
102. The black Chuckle.
103. Someone walking in front of you - just fast enough that you can't overtake them, just slow enough that you can't get into a comfortable gait.
104. "Professional driver, closed course."
105. People who use the "[sic]" convention of preserving a misspelling within a quote for no reason except to belittle the author of the quote. So often in printed debate you see someone quoting their opponent and throwing in the "[sic]" like it's some kind of sophisticated riposte. If pointing out someone's spelling mistake is important enough to be included in your argument, then you're on weak ground, in my opinion.
106. The FBI Warning
107. An ice cold, unspreadable chunk of cream cheese.
108. Edutainment
109. Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates.
110. Children in a video arcade who desperately, pathetically try to glean a sliver of enjoyment by pretending to control a demo screen. I don't know why this angers me. I just want to smack them.
111. Fusion cuisine. Why are the portions so small?
112. Rhyming jail with bail. Also mad, bad, sad, and glad.
113. When you drop something - a paper clip, a quarter, a matchbook - and it's just gone. You look around, you look under the chair - everywhere, but it is just not there.
114. Fighting a losing battle for armrest real estate with a big guy on a plane.
115. When your loud turn signal really messes up the good part of the song.
116. Businesses with phone numbers that make you hunt around on your phone for the letters of the alphabet, and especially those whose spelled-out numbers exceed the 7-digit maximum. By the time you've realized it was a total waste of time to find the "E" and the "R", you've already done it.
117. Poetry in a foreign language that suspiciously still rhymes in English when it's translated. I'm no expert on poetry, but how can preserving the rhyme structure of a translated poem possibly be considered more important than preserving the authenticity of the text?
118. Warm, wet, spongy, undercooked pepperoni - the result of some pizzarias' moronic policy to cook the toppings under the cheese.
119. Eraserhead, Begotten and Tetsuo the Iron Man.
120. When you get on a really long line, and as you progress through it, no one gets in line behind you.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Potpourri 3 The Movie: Spell of the Unknown
Purchasing a Small Quantity of Toilet Paper
Why would anyone ever not buy the absolute largest package of toilet paper available in the store? If you're buying TP, don't you want to get the largest quantity you can? Why would you ever get the Charmin 4-pack? Do you anticipate not needing more than a 4-roll supply? TP doesn't go bad, it doesn't expire. You could fit a two year supply of it under the bathroom sink and still have plenty of room left in there. Why would you ever not buy TP in the biggest bulk you could carry out of the store? I don't get it. I recently lived in San Diego for 4 years and I think I bought toilet paper maybe twice.
The Da Vinci Code
Why is this so popular? What is the fascination? For years, this book has been a nonstop bestseller. I'm not planning on reading it, but I'd welcome an explanation. Many people have told me I *have* to read the Da Vinci Code. Oh my God, you have to read the Da Vinci Code! I don't want to be mean here, but have you ever known people that if they told you you had to read something, you'd be a little skeptical? I've gotten a lot of that with this book. (btw: I'm starting to think that "The Five People you Meet in Heaven" may also be heading down this road. Be wary of people whose literary judgement you don't entirely trust recommending this one.)
Stock Blurbs
How come, every day of the Iraq war, it was either "Stocks up today on war optimism." or "Stocks down today on war fears." Really, whatever direction the market was going that day they'd just spit out one of those two sentences, regardless of any actual news from Iraq. How does this make any sense? Can you cite war optimism, war pessimism and war optimism again as the driving force behind the market all within the same week?
Questions Asked by Pop Up Ads
"Should Bush have Won?" What kind of an idiotic, insulting question is this? Should Bush have won. Man. Well, if one believes that democracy is a just, fair process - and if one recognizes that Bush did win the popular and electoral college vote... well then yes! I guess he should have won! But wait, is the question really asking "Did Bush deserve his victory?" Ahhhh, a different question. Maybe I was wrong to judge the pop up ad so quickly. But correct me if I'm wrong, don't we already have an extremely accurate, nationwide comprehensive survey that addresses that very question, namely, the election? If the pop up ad really wants to get a sense of popular opinion on Bush's worthiness, do you think maybe the pop up ad should consult the official election results?
How about "Which one is Marge Simpson?" Ooooh I hate you pop up ad. Have you ever deliberately answered one of these questions wrong to see if the pop up ad has anything prepared for a wrong answer? Sometimes they don't, especially when a free DVD player or something is being offered for the correct answer. If you select Chief Wiggum the pop up ad goes through a bizarre hiccup and then returns back to the question.
I'd really like to see firsthand the person who squeals with delight when they see this pop up ad. The person who says "Wait a minute, I know Marge Simpson! I think I can win this thing!" I'm sure they're out there.
I think I'd like to buy a web ad to display on a random website, and the ad would say "If this banner is flashing, you've won!" and the banner wouldn't be flashing. And then if you clicked on it, you'd just get taken to a page reminding you that you didn't win, as the banner you clicked had not been flashing.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Planned Community Street Names
I think I may be having a rare change of heart. I use to be an enthusiastic supporter of these monolithic, ginormous cookie cutter planned residential communities. The kind that dot my suburban southwestern landscape like so many prarie freckles. People may poo-poo them for the bland sense of conformity, the lack of flavor and imagination, the artificiality. But I like to think that I saw past all that. These communities are convenient. They're centrally planned. They're kid-friendly. They have round the clock maintenance staffs (staves?) They have tennis courts. Homeless don't even try to set up shop. And usually, there's a monthly community newsletter - complete with a crossword puzzle that is delightfully non-taxing.
I've lived in a few of these places now. Very few complaints. But just a few weeks ago I had a bit of a rude awakening. I was driving out to a friend's house in a different part of town. As I exited the boulevard and entered the well-manicured driveway of the residential community, I picked up my handwritten directions. Left on... Redwood Ash... Redwood Ash... not Crimson Clover... not Elk Lake.... okay Redwood Ash. Now a right on Pine Glen..... hmm, not Sprucedale.... not Jade Cliffs.... not Sleepy River....
Then suddenly, unexpectedly, the truth hit me. "Wait a minute! This is all bullshit!"
Elk Lake? There is no lake, and there are no elk! Jade Cliffs? Wrong and no! Pine Oaks Bluff? There is no scenic bluff! There is no oak! And my friends.... there ain't no pine!
(FYI, this is Las Vegas valley we're talking about. It's nothing but parched, level, featureless desert scrub)
If a street is called Emerald Vista, does a person have a right to expect that somewhere in the vicinity there might actually be an emerald vista? If yes (and that's my position), doesn't that mean that streets with names like Emerald Vista should be relatively rare, seeing as how naturally occuring emerald vistas are somewhat hard to find?
And if you have three consecutive streets with the names "Cedar Forest", "Summit Point" and "Sea Palms", doesn't that put the lie to the whole idea that the street is named after some kind of organic natural feature?
I mean, let's be honest here. There are some ground rules that go into naming streets. You can name your street after a person - that's always a good choice. I live close to Jimmy Durante blvd and that's fine by me. Back east you could always use some local Indian word. Or hey, just make one up. Tuscalanat, maybe. Or Scatiteegwa. Out here it's even easier; you got "mesa", you've got "verde", you've got "paseo" - throw in a few caminos and you've got yourself a street.
But if you're going to go the time honored route of picking some feature out of the environment and naming the street after it, then by God, don't lie to me.
Because now I see what's going on. I never knew it before my little epiphany the other day, but now I know. These street signs are ADVERTISEMENTS. They are a marketing tool! They don't just exist as a handy navigational aid, as they have for hundreds of years. No, they're doing much more. They're saying "Hey chump, wouldn't you like to live here... on Balsam Creek? ... We know you know there isn't a creek, and that there isn't any balsam wood for hundreds of miles in any direction, and yet... Balsam Creek! Yeah! You know what I'm talking about!"
The fake-0 street names exist solely so that someone will be marginally more tempted to purchase property. How f'd up is this?
Sometimes, as all greedy deceitful marketers do, the street namers accidentally tip their hand.
Every street name I've mentioned so far is an actual, confirmed street name from the particular community I visited that weekend in Summerlin, NV. But here are a few more that caught my eye:
Winter Teal - Shouldn't this be part of a description for a v-neck sweater? How is it a street name?
Knox Gold - Yep. Knox is actually an adjective. Bet you never knew that. You probably thought it was a noun. Specifically, the name of a guy from the revolutionary war for whom Fort Knox was named. No, it's an adjective. It means "a goldish, gold-like color".
Prime View - Here they just gave up. They couldn't be bothered to withdraw one more stupid name from the endless reserves in their asses and so they just put the selling point directly in the street name. They could just abandon the facade now and name all the streets "Perfect for Kids" or "Pets Welcome" or "Sunday move-ins must be approved".
So I think I've now realized the folly of my support for the giant soulless residential planned communities. From now on I'll treat them with the same suspicion and distrust I have for everything else.
Okay, one more: Hawk Bay
Cause you know how the hawks like to hang around sea level.
(Update: 10:50 pm - Well okay, I guess the seahawk does. Point taken.)
I've lived in a few of these places now. Very few complaints. But just a few weeks ago I had a bit of a rude awakening. I was driving out to a friend's house in a different part of town. As I exited the boulevard and entered the well-manicured driveway of the residential community, I picked up my handwritten directions. Left on... Redwood Ash... Redwood Ash... not Crimson Clover... not Elk Lake.... okay Redwood Ash. Now a right on Pine Glen..... hmm, not Sprucedale.... not Jade Cliffs.... not Sleepy River....
Then suddenly, unexpectedly, the truth hit me. "Wait a minute! This is all bullshit!"
Elk Lake? There is no lake, and there are no elk! Jade Cliffs? Wrong and no! Pine Oaks Bluff? There is no scenic bluff! There is no oak! And my friends.... there ain't no pine!
(FYI, this is Las Vegas valley we're talking about. It's nothing but parched, level, featureless desert scrub)
If a street is called Emerald Vista, does a person have a right to expect that somewhere in the vicinity there might actually be an emerald vista? If yes (and that's my position), doesn't that mean that streets with names like Emerald Vista should be relatively rare, seeing as how naturally occuring emerald vistas are somewhat hard to find?
And if you have three consecutive streets with the names "Cedar Forest", "Summit Point" and "Sea Palms", doesn't that put the lie to the whole idea that the street is named after some kind of organic natural feature?
I mean, let's be honest here. There are some ground rules that go into naming streets. You can name your street after a person - that's always a good choice. I live close to Jimmy Durante blvd and that's fine by me. Back east you could always use some local Indian word. Or hey, just make one up. Tuscalanat, maybe. Or Scatiteegwa. Out here it's even easier; you got "mesa", you've got "verde", you've got "paseo" - throw in a few caminos and you've got yourself a street.
But if you're going to go the time honored route of picking some feature out of the environment and naming the street after it, then by God, don't lie to me.
Because now I see what's going on. I never knew it before my little epiphany the other day, but now I know. These street signs are ADVERTISEMENTS. They are a marketing tool! They don't just exist as a handy navigational aid, as they have for hundreds of years. No, they're doing much more. They're saying "Hey chump, wouldn't you like to live here... on Balsam Creek? ... We know you know there isn't a creek, and that there isn't any balsam wood for hundreds of miles in any direction, and yet... Balsam Creek! Yeah! You know what I'm talking about!"
The fake-0 street names exist solely so that someone will be marginally more tempted to purchase property. How f'd up is this?
Sometimes, as all greedy deceitful marketers do, the street namers accidentally tip their hand.
Every street name I've mentioned so far is an actual, confirmed street name from the particular community I visited that weekend in Summerlin, NV. But here are a few more that caught my eye:
Winter Teal - Shouldn't this be part of a description for a v-neck sweater? How is it a street name?
Knox Gold - Yep. Knox is actually an adjective. Bet you never knew that. You probably thought it was a noun. Specifically, the name of a guy from the revolutionary war for whom Fort Knox was named. No, it's an adjective. It means "a goldish, gold-like color".
Prime View - Here they just gave up. They couldn't be bothered to withdraw one more stupid name from the endless reserves in their asses and so they just put the selling point directly in the street name. They could just abandon the facade now and name all the streets "Perfect for Kids" or "Pets Welcome" or "Sunday move-ins must be approved".
So I think I've now realized the folly of my support for the giant soulless residential planned communities. From now on I'll treat them with the same suspicion and distrust I have for everything else.
Okay, one more: Hawk Bay
Cause you know how the hawks like to hang around sea level.
(Update: 10:50 pm - Well okay, I guess the seahawk does. Point taken.)
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
More Potpourri!
Camping
Let me try to make the case against camping as succinctly as possible. Imagine that you go to the zoo one day. You have a great ol' time. You see the primates, the reptiles, you even catch the 3:00 dolphin show. A fine day. Then, when the zoo closes, you don't leave. You stick around. For dinner you can have any snacks or drinks that you brought with you. If you need to go to the bathroom you go behind a bush. Then, at night, you find the most comfortable bench you can (probably next to the 25-cent petting-zoo food machine) and try to get some shut eye.
And as you're lying there, unsuccessfully trying to sleep on the wooden bench, you think "I had a great time today. Primates, reptiles... dolphin show. Good stuff. But, here's a question... why am I sleeping on a bench?"
Who Wants to be a Millionaire
The $100-$1000 questions. Is this not a complete waste of time? "According to the classic rhyme, Mary had a little... what? A. Goose.... B. Dog...." Wouldn't we all just rather watch color bars and listen to the Emergency Broadcast System's high-pitched tone for those two or three minutes?
Why do contestants always, ALWAYS use "ask the audience" as their first lifeline? This is your gimme! This is your sure thing! It's your ace in the hole! Why are you wasting it on the $2000 question? Wouldn't it be better to ask your friend the $2000 question? He ain't gunna know the $64,000 one, that's for sure.
Certain people can quickly identify an Avril Lavigne song from a sample lyric, and certain people know the atomic weight of sodium, but nobody knows both. Why does Millionaire require this impossible dual-knowledge from its contestants? Don't contestants on a trivia show have a right to presume that the knowledge they will be tested on is, at some level, knowledge worth having? Isn't is a cheap shot to ask someone who just correctly identified the poet Shelley to name the main bouncer on Jerry Springer? How could he possibly know?
The Uselessness of French
From 5th to 11th grade I had seven compulsory years of French. Why? What was the point? I never use this knowledge. Every day a little more of it slips away. I realize for much of the world, becoming a polyglot is an absolute necessity. But not here. And even if you want to make the case that learning another language is good exercise for the brain, why French? Wouldn't Spanish have been more directly useful? Wouldn't Chinese have opened up more of the world? Imagine if all of that class time had been used to teach, say, candle making. Imagine the great candles I could be making right and left, with total ease, after 7 years of grueling study.
The Apprentice
They're doing it again. They're taking a hot TV show, one that with proper care and nourishment could be a cash cow for decades, and they're running it into the ground through overexposure and oversaturation. See exhibit A: Survivor, exhibit B: Queer Eye, and hey, exhibit C: Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Nobody seems to want to acknowledge that the only reason Survivor became a megahit was because it originally aired in summer - a time with no other network primetime original programming. It had no competition. It was airing against reruns of sitcoms. It was the only game in town. It spawned the current reality TV revolution. Everyone thinks reality is a brilliant idea. It's an okay idea. Airing original programming in the summer is the brilliant idea.
And Millionaire. It had monster ratings for a while, spawned a lineup of imitators, and then died. People were expected to watch a whole hour of this show every single weekday. How long did they think they could pull that off? Isn't it fair to say that with a little moderation, they could have milked that phenominon for years and years? If they had made it, maybe, a twice-a-week show?
Now look at Apprentice. It's an honest to goodness hit, despite that it's not really that good. If this show had one series per year, it would run forever with stellar ratings. But that's not good enough, is it? Apprentice 2 ended and Apprentice 3 began immediately. No break. Apprentice 4 is feverishly in the works (the student body at my school were invited to audition just a few weeks ago). You realize what's going to happen. People are going to tire of this show and then it's going to die. Then there won't be any more Apprentice. Don't the people who make the show realize this?
Let me try to make the case against camping as succinctly as possible. Imagine that you go to the zoo one day. You have a great ol' time. You see the primates, the reptiles, you even catch the 3:00 dolphin show. A fine day. Then, when the zoo closes, you don't leave. You stick around. For dinner you can have any snacks or drinks that you brought with you. If you need to go to the bathroom you go behind a bush. Then, at night, you find the most comfortable bench you can (probably next to the 25-cent petting-zoo food machine) and try to get some shut eye.
And as you're lying there, unsuccessfully trying to sleep on the wooden bench, you think "I had a great time today. Primates, reptiles... dolphin show. Good stuff. But, here's a question... why am I sleeping on a bench?"
Who Wants to be a Millionaire
The $100-$1000 questions. Is this not a complete waste of time? "According to the classic rhyme, Mary had a little... what? A. Goose.... B. Dog...." Wouldn't we all just rather watch color bars and listen to the Emergency Broadcast System's high-pitched tone for those two or three minutes?
Why do contestants always, ALWAYS use "ask the audience" as their first lifeline? This is your gimme! This is your sure thing! It's your ace in the hole! Why are you wasting it on the $2000 question? Wouldn't it be better to ask your friend the $2000 question? He ain't gunna know the $64,000 one, that's for sure.
Certain people can quickly identify an Avril Lavigne song from a sample lyric, and certain people know the atomic weight of sodium, but nobody knows both. Why does Millionaire require this impossible dual-knowledge from its contestants? Don't contestants on a trivia show have a right to presume that the knowledge they will be tested on is, at some level, knowledge worth having? Isn't is a cheap shot to ask someone who just correctly identified the poet Shelley to name the main bouncer on Jerry Springer? How could he possibly know?
The Uselessness of French
From 5th to 11th grade I had seven compulsory years of French. Why? What was the point? I never use this knowledge. Every day a little more of it slips away. I realize for much of the world, becoming a polyglot is an absolute necessity. But not here. And even if you want to make the case that learning another language is good exercise for the brain, why French? Wouldn't Spanish have been more directly useful? Wouldn't Chinese have opened up more of the world? Imagine if all of that class time had been used to teach, say, candle making. Imagine the great candles I could be making right and left, with total ease, after 7 years of grueling study.
The Apprentice
They're doing it again. They're taking a hot TV show, one that with proper care and nourishment could be a cash cow for decades, and they're running it into the ground through overexposure and oversaturation. See exhibit A: Survivor, exhibit B: Queer Eye, and hey, exhibit C: Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Nobody seems to want to acknowledge that the only reason Survivor became a megahit was because it originally aired in summer - a time with no other network primetime original programming. It had no competition. It was airing against reruns of sitcoms. It was the only game in town. It spawned the current reality TV revolution. Everyone thinks reality is a brilliant idea. It's an okay idea. Airing original programming in the summer is the brilliant idea.
And Millionaire. It had monster ratings for a while, spawned a lineup of imitators, and then died. People were expected to watch a whole hour of this show every single weekday. How long did they think they could pull that off? Isn't it fair to say that with a little moderation, they could have milked that phenominon for years and years? If they had made it, maybe, a twice-a-week show?
Now look at Apprentice. It's an honest to goodness hit, despite that it's not really that good. If this show had one series per year, it would run forever with stellar ratings. But that's not good enough, is it? Apprentice 2 ended and Apprentice 3 began immediately. No break. Apprentice 4 is feverishly in the works (the student body at my school were invited to audition just a few weeks ago). You realize what's going to happen. People are going to tire of this show and then it's going to die. Then there won't be any more Apprentice. Don't the people who make the show realize this?
Monday, January 31, 2005
Naming your Protagonist "Jack"
An excessive number of fictional protagonists in film, books and television are named Jack. Way more than there should be. But so what?, one might say. Jack is a common name. Like Mike or Bob. Why wouldn't it be common in fiction? It's an "everyman" kind of name, perfect for a protagonist.
But a-haaa! No, it's not! I think we've all been duped into thinking that Jack is a very common name. It is my contention that Jack, a distinctly uncommon name has been elevated to everyman status by a unwitting, subconscious conspiracy of storytellers who are all building off the collective delusion that everyone out there is named Jack.
Now, I desperately wanted to get some hard data to back me up here. I wanted to find some sort of authoritative breakdown of popularity of various male protagonist names. I couldn't find any. I can't prove that Jack is way overrepresented in film relative to its real-life popularity; and yet casually, common-sensically, anecdotally, I am aware that there are just massive amounts of fictional people named Jack. Anybody with me on this one?
Exhibit A: I don't know anyone in real life named Jack. I have never known anyone named Jack. Have I known Johns? Yes. Did any of them abbreviate their names to Jack? Nope.
So there's a little bit of concrete scientific evidence for you.
Exhibit B: Our old friend the social security baby names website: http://www.ssa.gov/OACT/babynames/ According to the record books, "Jack" was a very popular name in the 20s, 30s, and 40s, and then abruptly declined. Here's a table of Jack's popularity ranking by decade:
1900s 41st 1930s 18th 1960s 106th 1990s 113th
1910s 29th 1940s 37th 1970s 161st 2000s 46th
1920s 17th 1950s 57th 1980s 176th
Look at what the table tells you. (I wanted to import a neat little chart I made, but blogger doesn't host free images) In the 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's, Jack didn't even crack the top 100 boys names. Here in 2005, a strapping young protagonist would likely have been born in the 60s, 70s and 80s, right at the time when Jack was deeply unpopular.
Shaun, Nathaniel, Harold, Dale... these names were allllll more popular than Jack in the 70s. Hell, Chad was no.30 on the list, way ahead of Jack's no.161. Chad. Where are all the movies where Gary Busey or John Travolta play a guy named Chad?
Here's one possibility. The veteran screenwriters who wrote the movies of the 1980s were all born in the 1920s, 30s and 40s, which, admittedly were Jack-dense decades. If you were a 45 year old guy writing the script for a Death Wish sequel, chances are you could have known a lot of Jacks.
So this maybe is how Jack got its foothold. Though it fell out of favor in real life, it was kept alive by the previous generation which enjoyed giving fictional young people they names they remebered as being popular. Once Jack was established as a good go-to name for an everyman, its legacy was assured.
Now look at the gains and strides Jack has made in the 1990s and the 2000s. In 2003, Jack was back to 43rd place. Would it be crazy of me to suggest that the rediscovered popularity of the name is due to the excessive Jack-named protagonist phenominon? If protagonists were commonly named, say, Kenneth - would we be seeing a resurgence of Kens and Kennys?
I just think it's all kind of annoying because now Jack has this loner, hero, tough guy, protagonist-y aura about it. He's a handsome, rugged Harrison-Fordy type lawyer with the biggest case of his life, or a hard nosed cop who's seen it all and doesn't play by the rules. Bah! You know what I say? Jack is a very plain, unexciting name that quite reasonably lost popularity in the 50s alongside names like Walter and Eugene.
But a-haaa! No, it's not! I think we've all been duped into thinking that Jack is a very common name. It is my contention that Jack, a distinctly uncommon name has been elevated to everyman status by a unwitting, subconscious conspiracy of storytellers who are all building off the collective delusion that everyone out there is named Jack.
Now, I desperately wanted to get some hard data to back me up here. I wanted to find some sort of authoritative breakdown of popularity of various male protagonist names. I couldn't find any. I can't prove that Jack is way overrepresented in film relative to its real-life popularity; and yet casually, common-sensically, anecdotally, I am aware that there are just massive amounts of fictional people named Jack. Anybody with me on this one?
Exhibit A: I don't know anyone in real life named Jack. I have never known anyone named Jack. Have I known Johns? Yes. Did any of them abbreviate their names to Jack? Nope.
So there's a little bit of concrete scientific evidence for you.
Exhibit B: Our old friend the social security baby names website: http://www.ssa.gov/OACT/babynames/ According to the record books, "Jack" was a very popular name in the 20s, 30s, and 40s, and then abruptly declined. Here's a table of Jack's popularity ranking by decade:
1900s 41st 1930s 18th 1960s 106th 1990s 113th
1910s 29th 1940s 37th 1970s 161st 2000s 46th
1920s 17th 1950s 57th 1980s 176th
Look at what the table tells you. (I wanted to import a neat little chart I made, but blogger doesn't host free images) In the 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's, Jack didn't even crack the top 100 boys names. Here in 2005, a strapping young protagonist would likely have been born in the 60s, 70s and 80s, right at the time when Jack was deeply unpopular.
Shaun, Nathaniel, Harold, Dale... these names were allllll more popular than Jack in the 70s. Hell, Chad was no.30 on the list, way ahead of Jack's no.161. Chad. Where are all the movies where Gary Busey or John Travolta play a guy named Chad?
Here's one possibility. The veteran screenwriters who wrote the movies of the 1980s were all born in the 1920s, 30s and 40s, which, admittedly were Jack-dense decades. If you were a 45 year old guy writing the script for a Death Wish sequel, chances are you could have known a lot of Jacks.
So this maybe is how Jack got its foothold. Though it fell out of favor in real life, it was kept alive by the previous generation which enjoyed giving fictional young people they names they remebered as being popular. Once Jack was established as a good go-to name for an everyman, its legacy was assured.
Now look at the gains and strides Jack has made in the 1990s and the 2000s. In 2003, Jack was back to 43rd place. Would it be crazy of me to suggest that the rediscovered popularity of the name is due to the excessive Jack-named protagonist phenominon? If protagonists were commonly named, say, Kenneth - would we be seeing a resurgence of Kens and Kennys?
I just think it's all kind of annoying because now Jack has this loner, hero, tough guy, protagonist-y aura about it. He's a handsome, rugged Harrison-Fordy type lawyer with the biggest case of his life, or a hard nosed cop who's seen it all and doesn't play by the rules. Bah! You know what I say? Jack is a very plain, unexciting name that quite reasonably lost popularity in the 50s alongside names like Walter and Eugene.
Take a risk and name your next hero Herman, screenwriters. Or Clyde, Earl, Gilbert, Roland or Gene. Or Sylvester.
Oh, and parents, continue naming babies after your favorite TV characters. That's always a smart choice.
Friday, January 28, 2005
This Call to the Bullpen
We're all aware, surely, how commercialism keeps creeping deeper and deeper into baseball. We've all seen the slow roasting spit of rotating ads behind home plate. We're used to the Budweiser play of the game and listening to the color commentator hawking cameras. Last year, the forces of darkness almost succeeded in getting ads put on the bases themselves. Eventually they'll win I'm sure. I mean, why wouldn't you put ads on the bases? Show me the totured logic that would permit ads everywhere else but ban them on a base.
But I save a special kind of hatred for whichever loathsome corporate sponsor is bringing me This Call to the Bullpen. Oh how I despise them. Actually, Major League Baseball deserves much of the blame as well. I hate them both.
Humor me and consider for a minute what it means to say that a sponsor is bringing me this call to the bullpen.
Clearly the sponsor has nothing to do with the decision to switch pitchers. Could the broadcasters say something like "That double play was brought to you by Michelin Tires"? No, of course not. (knock on wood) It makes no sense.
The only thing a sponsor can bring is money. Money to support something in the telecast. Money to support something in the stadium. Sponsors can bring me free bat day, sponsors can pay the janitor's salary, they can buy a fancy new tarp for the rain delay, but dammit, they can't order a pitching change.
"This call to the bullpen is brought to you by Nextel." What is Nextel bringing? What have they paid for? In the telecast, a call to the bullpen means a commercial. Is Nextel really sponsoring the break? Are they paying for Geico and Ditech and Meineke to air 30-second spots? Of course they aren't.
They bring nothing! It's all a damned lie!
And furthermore, it's a profoundly bad marketing decision (where are their SMART goals?). Commercials in ballgames are generally not resented because they occur at natural stopping points. Inning over, take a break. The pitching change is the one occasion during a ballgame when a commercial pops up at an actual moment of tension and excitement. Someone is on base. Someone good is coming to bat. The game is at stake. It's probably the one moment during any given game where a fan really doesn't want to go to commercial. Is this sense of annoyance and frustration really what you want your product associated with?
“Nextel is proud to bring you this commercial break at the exact moment in the game when you least want it. Nextel. Enjoy these commercials.”
That would be a little more honest, wouldn't it. How about if they went for total honesty, abandoning the flimsy pretense that they were actually sponsoring anything:
"This moment in the broadcast is brought to you by Nextel. Nextel is proud to be the proud sponsor of this, the utterance of its own name. Nextel. And now, back to the action.”
At least with that approach, a) I don't associate Nextel with an unwanted interruption, b) Major League Baseball and Nextel don't have to lie and say that something specific is being sponsored, and c) I get credited with a minimum amount of intelligence.
I don't know why I'm picking on Nextel in particular. I don't even know what Nextel is or what they provide. And yet, somehow, they seem like the kind of people that would bring me this call to the bullpen. Is it just me?
Friday, January 21, 2005
Acronyms as a Phony Source of Credibility
"When analyzing a marketing opportunity," said the professor on the first day of my new marketing class, "you want to stay goal oriented. And you want to make sure the goals you set are SMART goals."
"SMART goals," he clarified, "are Specific, Measurable, Aggressive, Relevant, and Time-Based."
I had been following the lecture astutely up to this point, but upon hearing this sentence my spirits sank. A voice echoed in my head: "kkkhhhhhh.... Houston, this is Eagle 1, we have bullshit."
So that's basically it. I'm in for another semester of some nebulous, soft-discipline, pseudo scholarship bullshitting. I had a big ol' dose of this last semester in my management theory class where alliteration was frequently the substitute for actual substance. In that class, the theory of work-group behaviour was described as going through five distinct phases: Forming, Storming, Norming, Performing, and Adjourning. Never mind that the alliteration ultimately fails because, well, adjourning DOESN'T RHYME. In class, it was pronounced as if it did.
Sometimes I daydream and wish I was getting a masters in something really rigorous, like maybe Physics. You know, in Physics, if you make some kind of discovery or have some startling new theory and want it added to the general body of Physics knowledge, I imagine it's a difficult procedure. I imagine that first you have to get your work published in a legitimate journal, which involves a grueling process of peer review, where no one will cut you the slightest bit of slack. Then you have to go (still imagining here) in front of a panel of respected physicists for a withering cross examination and paper defense. Then, if you somehow survive all that, your paper is manditorily shelved for a three year cool off period where you're expected to go through your work in more detail, looking for your own mistakes. Then it's brought back for fresh scrutiny by entirely new experts who are no less brutal with criticism, and then finally, maybe, if your work still manages not to have been completely debunked, it will be declared acceptable. Then, after 20 years of resentment and nitpicking by your jealous peers, if you're lucky, your work can become widely accepted. This is how it should be.
But hey! In marketing, you jus' gotta whip yourself up an acronym! You're a genius! SMART goals! Relevent AND time-based! And to think, my goals had always been goat-based, or soup-based! Now I know.
But really, I want to take a minute and get into the perniciousness, the dishonesty, of these acronyms and all the other tools of the charlatan scholar.
What is an acronym? Well, if you invent something like say, self-contained underwater breathing apparatus, you may get frustrated saying the whole name so many times. You may find it inconvenient. So you use the abbreviation SCUBA. If you work at the North American Aerospace Defense Command, you might find it easier to just say NORAD. Typically, an acronym reflects the fact that a certain series of words gets repeated so often that an abbreviation is a welcome convenience. An acronym, by its very existence, suggests a well worn phrase or some sort of established truth.
Ah, but the soft-discipline huckster scholar sees acronyms not as useful abbreviations, but as an opportunity! You see, acronyms can be reverse-engineered. You can start with a concept like "smart goals" and then come up with a few words that spell out the word smart, and then suddenly you're magically in possession of some homespun wisdom.
The huckster's plan is that the very existence of his acronym will suggest some sort of real-world history of his goal approach. The acronym suggests that at one point, people in the marketing business walked around saying "You know what we always say around here Bob, make sure your goals are specific, measurable, aggressive, relevant and time-based!" And then eventually, one person spoke up: "You know something Bill... we repeat that mantra so often - isn't there some way of summing it up or condensing it?"
"Hmm. You got a point there Bob. Well, the adjectives do spell out the word SMART..."
"What a coincidence! We can call them 'SMART goals'.
"Yes... I see your point! It's a handy abbreviation, and it reinforces the idea that the advice is of an intelligent nature. 'SMART' in other words!"
But invented acronyms are only the beginning. Remember Johnny Cochran saying to the OJ jury: "If the glove doesn't fit, you must acquit!"
Powerful words. Words to make you stop and think. Words that became the catalyst of the whole trial.
Well, no. They were stupid words. But THEY RHYMED. The huckster looks at his mark with our old favorite attitude, the presumption of idiocy. And an idiot is impressed by a rhyming sentence. A rhyming sentence carries more inherent truth than a non rhyming sentence.
So the charlatan employs plenty of rhyme and alliteration to make his points in the soft-disciplines.
Then there are the lists! The professional bullshitting academic needs to come up with official, authoritative sounding lists. Here are the "Five Dimensions of Personality": Conscientiousness, Emotional Stability, Agreeableness, Extroversion, and I'll be honest I forgot the fifth one. This was from the management theory class. Read those again. These, according to the management professor, are the exhaustive 5 dimensions of personality that are found in every human soul. Yes, agreeableness and extroversion are two of them. And yes, conscientiousness and emotional stability are two more of them.
And this bullshit is presented like it's the pinnacle of human understanding by professors who take it extremely seriously. The 5 dimensions are invoked like Carl Jung himself woke up one day in feverish excitement and shouted "Eureka!" and jotted them down on his nightstand.
How about this one: (and I'm not joking) "The First Law of Human Behavior". Yes, one day the professor offered us the "First Law of Human Behavior". Are you ready to know what it is? This is the first law of human behavior....
"People are different. What one person considers an opportunity, another would consider a threat."
Again, that was the "First Law of Human Behavior". Socrates and St. Thomas Aquinas can finally rest in their graves. Their work.... is complete.
Finally: the inscrutability.
In the hard disciplines, the ones I now look at with envy, there is a premium placed on clarity. A brilliant paper that's completely inscrutable runs the risk of not getting its point across. Theories have to be stated clearly. They must be written with the intention of being easily understood.
By contrast, the soft-discipline academic knows that to keep his paycheck coming, he must deliberately be obscure. He must tailor his writing in a form of scholarly legalese that is intentionally designed to thwart layperson understanding.
Now this isn't a blanket statement meant to apply to every scholar in every case in every soft discipline, but I'll be darned if I don't spot it all the time. In Management Theory, over and over again, we used the word "extrinsic". Now, according to Websters, extrinsic simply means "external". Now I admit, there might be some technical difference between the two words - a difference no bigger than the one between vanilla and french vanilla, but I put to you that I had to write words like "extrinsic" and "valence" dozens of times in my notes not because we needed the specificity of these obscure words, but because our Management Theory needed to take drastic steps to appear more scholarly through a little inscrutability.
And so another semester of this shit begins. Oh well. A recently graduated MBA friend of mine said (before I started the program) "There are useful classes and bullshit classes, and you'll know which are which." Advice I like to abbreviate as TAUCAB-CAYKWAW. Or, colloquially, the "two-cab cakewalk". How right he was.
"SMART goals," he clarified, "are Specific, Measurable, Aggressive, Relevant, and Time-Based."
I had been following the lecture astutely up to this point, but upon hearing this sentence my spirits sank. A voice echoed in my head: "kkkhhhhhh.... Houston, this is Eagle 1, we have bullshit."
So that's basically it. I'm in for another semester of some nebulous, soft-discipline, pseudo scholarship bullshitting. I had a big ol' dose of this last semester in my management theory class where alliteration was frequently the substitute for actual substance. In that class, the theory of work-group behaviour was described as going through five distinct phases: Forming, Storming, Norming, Performing, and Adjourning. Never mind that the alliteration ultimately fails because, well, adjourning DOESN'T RHYME. In class, it was pronounced as if it did.
Sometimes I daydream and wish I was getting a masters in something really rigorous, like maybe Physics. You know, in Physics, if you make some kind of discovery or have some startling new theory and want it added to the general body of Physics knowledge, I imagine it's a difficult procedure. I imagine that first you have to get your work published in a legitimate journal, which involves a grueling process of peer review, where no one will cut you the slightest bit of slack. Then you have to go (still imagining here) in front of a panel of respected physicists for a withering cross examination and paper defense. Then, if you somehow survive all that, your paper is manditorily shelved for a three year cool off period where you're expected to go through your work in more detail, looking for your own mistakes. Then it's brought back for fresh scrutiny by entirely new experts who are no less brutal with criticism, and then finally, maybe, if your work still manages not to have been completely debunked, it will be declared acceptable. Then, after 20 years of resentment and nitpicking by your jealous peers, if you're lucky, your work can become widely accepted. This is how it should be.
But hey! In marketing, you jus' gotta whip yourself up an acronym! You're a genius! SMART goals! Relevent AND time-based! And to think, my goals had always been goat-based, or soup-based! Now I know.
But really, I want to take a minute and get into the perniciousness, the dishonesty, of these acronyms and all the other tools of the charlatan scholar.
What is an acronym? Well, if you invent something like say, self-contained underwater breathing apparatus, you may get frustrated saying the whole name so many times. You may find it inconvenient. So you use the abbreviation SCUBA. If you work at the North American Aerospace Defense Command, you might find it easier to just say NORAD. Typically, an acronym reflects the fact that a certain series of words gets repeated so often that an abbreviation is a welcome convenience. An acronym, by its very existence, suggests a well worn phrase or some sort of established truth.
Ah, but the soft-discipline huckster scholar sees acronyms not as useful abbreviations, but as an opportunity! You see, acronyms can be reverse-engineered. You can start with a concept like "smart goals" and then come up with a few words that spell out the word smart, and then suddenly you're magically in possession of some homespun wisdom.
The huckster's plan is that the very existence of his acronym will suggest some sort of real-world history of his goal approach. The acronym suggests that at one point, people in the marketing business walked around saying "You know what we always say around here Bob, make sure your goals are specific, measurable, aggressive, relevant and time-based!" And then eventually, one person spoke up: "You know something Bill... we repeat that mantra so often - isn't there some way of summing it up or condensing it?"
"Hmm. You got a point there Bob. Well, the adjectives do spell out the word SMART..."
"What a coincidence! We can call them 'SMART goals'.
"Yes... I see your point! It's a handy abbreviation, and it reinforces the idea that the advice is of an intelligent nature. 'SMART' in other words!"
But invented acronyms are only the beginning. Remember Johnny Cochran saying to the OJ jury: "If the glove doesn't fit, you must acquit!"
Powerful words. Words to make you stop and think. Words that became the catalyst of the whole trial.
Well, no. They were stupid words. But THEY RHYMED. The huckster looks at his mark with our old favorite attitude, the presumption of idiocy. And an idiot is impressed by a rhyming sentence. A rhyming sentence carries more inherent truth than a non rhyming sentence.
So the charlatan employs plenty of rhyme and alliteration to make his points in the soft-disciplines.
Then there are the lists! The professional bullshitting academic needs to come up with official, authoritative sounding lists. Here are the "Five Dimensions of Personality": Conscientiousness, Emotional Stability, Agreeableness, Extroversion, and I'll be honest I forgot the fifth one. This was from the management theory class. Read those again. These, according to the management professor, are the exhaustive 5 dimensions of personality that are found in every human soul. Yes, agreeableness and extroversion are two of them. And yes, conscientiousness and emotional stability are two more of them.
And this bullshit is presented like it's the pinnacle of human understanding by professors who take it extremely seriously. The 5 dimensions are invoked like Carl Jung himself woke up one day in feverish excitement and shouted "Eureka!" and jotted them down on his nightstand.
How about this one: (and I'm not joking) "The First Law of Human Behavior". Yes, one day the professor offered us the "First Law of Human Behavior". Are you ready to know what it is? This is the first law of human behavior....
"People are different. What one person considers an opportunity, another would consider a threat."
Again, that was the "First Law of Human Behavior". Socrates and St. Thomas Aquinas can finally rest in their graves. Their work.... is complete.
Finally: the inscrutability.
In the hard disciplines, the ones I now look at with envy, there is a premium placed on clarity. A brilliant paper that's completely inscrutable runs the risk of not getting its point across. Theories have to be stated clearly. They must be written with the intention of being easily understood.
By contrast, the soft-discipline academic knows that to keep his paycheck coming, he must deliberately be obscure. He must tailor his writing in a form of scholarly legalese that is intentionally designed to thwart layperson understanding.
Now this isn't a blanket statement meant to apply to every scholar in every case in every soft discipline, but I'll be darned if I don't spot it all the time. In Management Theory, over and over again, we used the word "extrinsic". Now, according to Websters, extrinsic simply means "external". Now I admit, there might be some technical difference between the two words - a difference no bigger than the one between vanilla and french vanilla, but I put to you that I had to write words like "extrinsic" and "valence" dozens of times in my notes not because we needed the specificity of these obscure words, but because our Management Theory needed to take drastic steps to appear more scholarly through a little inscrutability.
And so another semester of this shit begins. Oh well. A recently graduated MBA friend of mine said (before I started the program) "There are useful classes and bullshit classes, and you'll know which are which." Advice I like to abbreviate as TAUCAB-CAYKWAW. Or, colloquially, the "two-cab cakewalk". How right he was.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Potpourri!
This post has nothing to do with potpourri. I love potpourri. Put out a bowl of it next to a bowl of Terra brand chips to delight and confuse your friends. No, these are just a few medium sized annoyances that are too big for the little lists and too small for their own post. Enjoy.
Abu Mazen
I am tired of reading the phrase "Mahmoud Abbas, better known as Abu Mazen". Really, for over a year now, reporters still solemnly repeat this phrase like it's pulitzer journalism. Like it's some kind of boast about how well you've cultivated your Palestinian street sources that you can dig up this kind of info. I think it is fair, really, to say that we are now all extremely aware that Mahmoud Abbas is commonly known as Abu Mazen. Please, media, PICK ONE OF THESE NAMES.
The Male Club Outfit
I despise this look. The shiny, tuxedo style shirt, untucked, top two buttons opened (to tantalize?) and the cuffs unbuttoned and flared out. I really, really hope this goes out of style soon. You know how people look back at their 60's or 70's hairdo or outfits with embarassment? Have you ever thought that you were witnessing future-decade fashion embarassment as it was happening? This is one of those times. I also had this hunch with heroin chic and the carefully-cultivated-bedhead look.
The Pathetic Ruse used in Diet Pill Commercials
Have you seen these diet-pill commercials that stress, several times, that this pill is only for the seriously overweight and NOT for the casual dieter. Once again, if you're looking to lose only 5 or 10 pounds, then this pill is simply too potent for your silly little diet. You are NOT the intended user of this pill. This pill is ONLY to be used by dieters who need to lose substantial weight. Casual dieters: go read a magazine or something - we don't specialize in your paltry, 5 or 10 pound needs. No no, this is a private conversation between us, the pill people, and those who are truly, massively fat.
It's official. This commercial holds my intelligence in lower regard than any person, organization, belief system, or entity of any kind, ever, in history. Just the thought that they seriously believed I would be bamboozled at their brick-in-the-face unsubtle reverse psychology routine makes me want to kill them. Kill them dead. They're selling on TV for God's sakes. They accept VISA and Mastercard. Their only goal is to sell as many pills as possible. They would willingly sell their entire stock to anorexics if they could make a buck. That they thought I would be fooled by this, the worst and most clumsy fake-out I have ever seen, is simply the worst insult I have ever endured. Compared to the diet pill sales strategy, the old trick where you act all excited around a 5 year old and tell him we're going to play the exciting "clean the room game" is a nuanced bluff of the highest strategy. The 5 year old's intelligence is being treated with enormous respect compared to my intelligence in this commercial.
Mission Impossible Films
The entire conceit of Mission Impossible, the whole concept - is a team of high tech crimefighters working together to catch crooks. That's the concept. It really can't be whittled down any further. So why are the movies basically James Bond clones? Why are they Tom Cruise flying solo? Other than sharing the music, the title and a few names, there are no similarities whatsoever between the movies and the show. Now I don't mind a Tom Cruise action movie (if it's good), but if you're going to use the name Mission Impossible, the only meaningful information that imparts is that it's going to be about a team of tech-savvy crimefighters. And the movies do not deliver on that. They reject it. Really, this bugs me. And you're telling me they couldn't find any way to use Peter Graves? He's nature's greatest untapped resource. Bring him back!
Abu Mazen
I am tired of reading the phrase "Mahmoud Abbas, better known as Abu Mazen". Really, for over a year now, reporters still solemnly repeat this phrase like it's pulitzer journalism. Like it's some kind of boast about how well you've cultivated your Palestinian street sources that you can dig up this kind of info. I think it is fair, really, to say that we are now all extremely aware that Mahmoud Abbas is commonly known as Abu Mazen. Please, media, PICK ONE OF THESE NAMES.
The Male Club Outfit
I despise this look. The shiny, tuxedo style shirt, untucked, top two buttons opened (to tantalize?) and the cuffs unbuttoned and flared out. I really, really hope this goes out of style soon. You know how people look back at their 60's or 70's hairdo or outfits with embarassment? Have you ever thought that you were witnessing future-decade fashion embarassment as it was happening? This is one of those times. I also had this hunch with heroin chic and the carefully-cultivated-bedhead look.
The Pathetic Ruse used in Diet Pill Commercials
Have you seen these diet-pill commercials that stress, several times, that this pill is only for the seriously overweight and NOT for the casual dieter. Once again, if you're looking to lose only 5 or 10 pounds, then this pill is simply too potent for your silly little diet. You are NOT the intended user of this pill. This pill is ONLY to be used by dieters who need to lose substantial weight. Casual dieters: go read a magazine or something - we don't specialize in your paltry, 5 or 10 pound needs. No no, this is a private conversation between us, the pill people, and those who are truly, massively fat.
It's official. This commercial holds my intelligence in lower regard than any person, organization, belief system, or entity of any kind, ever, in history. Just the thought that they seriously believed I would be bamboozled at their brick-in-the-face unsubtle reverse psychology routine makes me want to kill them. Kill them dead. They're selling on TV for God's sakes. They accept VISA and Mastercard. Their only goal is to sell as many pills as possible. They would willingly sell their entire stock to anorexics if they could make a buck. That they thought I would be fooled by this, the worst and most clumsy fake-out I have ever seen, is simply the worst insult I have ever endured. Compared to the diet pill sales strategy, the old trick where you act all excited around a 5 year old and tell him we're going to play the exciting "clean the room game" is a nuanced bluff of the highest strategy. The 5 year old's intelligence is being treated with enormous respect compared to my intelligence in this commercial.
Mission Impossible Films
The entire conceit of Mission Impossible, the whole concept - is a team of high tech crimefighters working together to catch crooks. That's the concept. It really can't be whittled down any further. So why are the movies basically James Bond clones? Why are they Tom Cruise flying solo? Other than sharing the music, the title and a few names, there are no similarities whatsoever between the movies and the show. Now I don't mind a Tom Cruise action movie (if it's good), but if you're going to use the name Mission Impossible, the only meaningful information that imparts is that it's going to be about a team of tech-savvy crimefighters. And the movies do not deliver on that. They reject it. Really, this bugs me. And you're telling me they couldn't find any way to use Peter Graves? He's nature's greatest untapped resource. Bring him back!
Sunday, January 09, 2005
College Donations
Do you know how often I get shaken down for cash by all the schools I've ever gone to? College, high school, even grade school. I get letters from grade school several times a year asking for contributions. After I finish my current grad program, yet another school is going to start leveling old-growth trees by the hundreds to send me endless letters asking for cash.
Here's the big question. Let's say I have a charity budget for the year. I don't, but let's say I did. Wouldn't I donate it to cancer research, or to the homeless, or mentally ill, or the red cross, or something worthwhile? Wouldn't I send the money somewhere where it could be put to actual charitable use?
Do you know, do you have any idea how low on my list of charitable priorities is the idea of giving money to a university for, say, a new athletic facility? Do you know how much good shape the world would have to be in before I considered charity for a bloated, wealthy private school that had already milked my family for obscene tuition for years?
I read about these people in Manila, they live on and in these gigantic garbage landfills. They live in garbage, creating little hovels for themselves out of bathtubs and particle board and whatever else they find. They send out their own kids every day to scavenge through the freshest garbage to salvage anything they can that can be traded on the junk market for a couple of cents. Every once in a while a storm blows through and destroys all their homes, but it's hard to tell, because it was all just a pile of garbage anyway. If I had money for charities, the garbage people would be first on my list.
But forget about all that, my high school wants to build a brand new parking structure! Complete with elevator access for the handicapped and elderly! Won't you send a check? Think about all those great childhood memories.
That's really the hook, isn't it? These schools always couple their requests for cash with an appeal to those warm, fuzzy memories. Another tactic is to dole out honorary shit left and right. Want your name on a bench? No problem. Want to join the exclusive ranks of "Friends of the Headmaster", thereby earning a coveted invitation to the annual headmaster's wine and cheese party? You think I'm making that stuff up, but it's true. My grade school assigns you a ranking based on how much you donate. Here are the categories:
Looking this over, I'd say if I had to donate, I'd give $499. Better to be the mack daddy of all the Orlandos than your basic, run of the mill Mercutio.
And the people who name buildings after themselves. Ooooh I hate that. What kind of ego do you have to have to want a building named after yourself? Who the hell are you? I could see, maybe, if your donations entirely financed a brand new building, the school would give you the honor of selecting the person to name it after. But even then, you wouldn't name it after yourself. If it was a science building, you'd pick your favorite scientist, or something like that.
The only time I could see naming a building after yourself is if you were an established mafia boss looking to appear legitimate in the community. Then you'd want to name the new children's library after yourself. And maybe put your wife on the board.
But I digress. What I was saying was that schools hand out the honorary names and dish out the artificial pomp like it's an old fashioned European sale of a noble title. And I guess it works.
Even if I decided I wanted to make a donation to a school, or toward education, why pick my own schools? Any school that's going to award you the title of Prospero for a donation can't really be doing that badly. I would probably weigh a bunch of different scholarship programs and see which one had the best track record of taking disadvantaged kids and getting them a quality education.
Here is the only charitable gift I am currently prepared to make to all my old schools. I am prepared to make a donation of free envelopes, printer ink, letter-size paper, several dozens of stamps, staples, and an hour of free clerical/administrative labor time. All they have to do is stop sending me regular donation requests, and my gift will gradually accumulate, all by itself, in their offices, over a period of years. I think that's pretty generous.
Here's the big question. Let's say I have a charity budget for the year. I don't, but let's say I did. Wouldn't I donate it to cancer research, or to the homeless, or mentally ill, or the red cross, or something worthwhile? Wouldn't I send the money somewhere where it could be put to actual charitable use?
Do you know, do you have any idea how low on my list of charitable priorities is the idea of giving money to a university for, say, a new athletic facility? Do you know how much good shape the world would have to be in before I considered charity for a bloated, wealthy private school that had already milked my family for obscene tuition for years?
I read about these people in Manila, they live on and in these gigantic garbage landfills. They live in garbage, creating little hovels for themselves out of bathtubs and particle board and whatever else they find. They send out their own kids every day to scavenge through the freshest garbage to salvage anything they can that can be traded on the junk market for a couple of cents. Every once in a while a storm blows through and destroys all their homes, but it's hard to tell, because it was all just a pile of garbage anyway. If I had money for charities, the garbage people would be first on my list.
But forget about all that, my high school wants to build a brand new parking structure! Complete with elevator access for the handicapped and elderly! Won't you send a check? Think about all those great childhood memories.
That's really the hook, isn't it? These schools always couple their requests for cash with an appeal to those warm, fuzzy memories. Another tactic is to dole out honorary shit left and right. Want your name on a bench? No problem. Want to join the exclusive ranks of "Friends of the Headmaster", thereby earning a coveted invitation to the annual headmaster's wine and cheese party? You think I'm making that stuff up, but it's true. My grade school assigns you a ranking based on how much you donate. Here are the categories:
| Julius Caesar ($25,000 and above) | Orsino ($2,500 - $4,999) |
| Prospero ($15,000 - $24,999) | Benedick ($1,000 - $2,499) |
| Othello ($10,000 - $14,999) | Mercutio ($500 - $999) |
| Oberon ($7,500 - $9,999) | Orlando ($100 - $499) |
| Hotspur ($5,000 - $7,499) | Ariel ($1 - $99) |
Looking this over, I'd say if I had to donate, I'd give $499. Better to be the mack daddy of all the Orlandos than your basic, run of the mill Mercutio.
And the people who name buildings after themselves. Ooooh I hate that. What kind of ego do you have to have to want a building named after yourself? Who the hell are you? I could see, maybe, if your donations entirely financed a brand new building, the school would give you the honor of selecting the person to name it after. But even then, you wouldn't name it after yourself. If it was a science building, you'd pick your favorite scientist, or something like that.
The only time I could see naming a building after yourself is if you were an established mafia boss looking to appear legitimate in the community. Then you'd want to name the new children's library after yourself. And maybe put your wife on the board.
But I digress. What I was saying was that schools hand out the honorary names and dish out the artificial pomp like it's an old fashioned European sale of a noble title. And I guess it works.
Even if I decided I wanted to make a donation to a school, or toward education, why pick my own schools? Any school that's going to award you the title of Prospero for a donation can't really be doing that badly. I would probably weigh a bunch of different scholarship programs and see which one had the best track record of taking disadvantaged kids and getting them a quality education.
Here is the only charitable gift I am currently prepared to make to all my old schools. I am prepared to make a donation of free envelopes, printer ink, letter-size paper, several dozens of stamps, staples, and an hour of free clerical/administrative labor time. All they have to do is stop sending me regular donation requests, and my gift will gradually accumulate, all by itself, in their offices, over a period of years. I think that's pretty generous.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Commercials and Race
Let's venture out on some thin ice.
I've been annoyed for years at the way race is handled in commercials. I've never said anything - it is a sensitive topic. But what am I so afriad of? I'm not a bigot. Can't well meaning people talk about these things? I say yes.
Why is it that when a commercial shows two people using competing products, and one person is white, and the other is black, the white guy is always using the inferior Brand X and the black guy is always using the good brand? Doesn't matter if it's detergent, a cold remedy, a brake job, anything. No way the white guy ever makes the right choice if his counterpart is a person of color. Not 75% of the time, not 90% of the time, but every time - without exception - my entire life.
Now don't even start formulating a response yet. First I'll state the obvious. Clearly, television has a responsibility to avoid hurtful negative stereotypes. And generally, they do a great job. If there was an episode of say, Mr. Belvedere, where the family was burgled and terrorized by a couple of sadistic black thieves, I'd come right out and say it - that would be irresponsible. If someone cast a Jew as the greedy moneylender or a hispanic as a thieving housemaid... also very bad. TV is generally very careful about stuff like that.
But it IS possible to go too far. Just once I'd like to see the black woman pull her shirt out of the dryer, see that the stain is still there and shake her head with dismay; while on the other side of the screen the white woman pulls out her totally clean shirt, and gives a nod of tremendous satisfaction, as if to say "Oh yeah." Would that be such a shocking taboo?
It's not that I want to see a white woman triumph at the expense of a black woman, it's just, I don't know, commercials portay minorities, black people especially, as these secular saints who are capable of no wrong or error, are savvy, witty and fiercely intelligent, and have impeccable style and taste. This annoys me not because I'm thinking "Hey wait a minute! Black people aren't that smart!" - It annoys be because it's deeply condescending. And it's not even cynical, calculated condescension, it's gutless, spineless condescension. It's the cowardly pandering of some advertiser who knows he needs to use a black person in the commercial lest he be accused of anything, but knows he also can't cast the guy in anything other than the "clever bloke" role, lest he be accused of anything. He's not trying to be socially conscious, he simply is steering down the one route which he knows will protect him from any accusation of wrongdoing. And because of this, the white guy always winds up with the stain on his shirt.
Can you imagine what would happen if you saw this commercial? Two guys (one white, one black) are both up for a big promotion at work. They each have a big presentation in the morning. But oh no! They each have a terrible head cold! The white guy reaches for his trusty NyQuil and knocks back a swig. Ahhhhh. The black guy on the other side of the screen is fumbling with his "generic decongestant". That bathroom doesn't look so tidy either, come to think of it....
Time passes....
The white guy wakes up bright and early, what a great night's sleep! He aces the presentation and the boss shakes his hand. Great job! But look at the other side of the screen... the black guy looks terrible! He didn't get a wink of sleep! No way he can make that presentation. Looks like no promotion this year.
Admit it, that commercial would blow your mind. You'd walk around all day feeling vaguely disconcerted. You'd know there was something really weird about that NyQuil ad, but you wouldn't know what. You wouldn't be able to figure it out.
If that commercial existed, and it never will, it would prompt outrage. People in the race business would be mad, but I don't think they'd know quite what to say. Is the commercial reinforcing the dangerous stereotype that black people simply don't know how to shop for a decongestant? How dare NyQuil not cast the black guy as the one using the preferred cold remedy! What are they trying to say, that blacks don't have a flawless record at treating their colds with effective, name brand expectorants?
You see, it's silly. And yet no white guy has ever "won" the commercial. Sometimes it just gets ridiculous. How about those home security commercials, advertising an alarm system. Have you seen these burglars? They look like silent film era bank robbers: the black turtleneck, the skullcap, the sensible slacks, the two-day stubble, a crowbar in one hand and a valise bag in the other. These are the lengths we're willing to go to make sure our "villain" in the commercial is a white guy.
I think there must be minorities who are equally annoyed with this. Isn't the condescension palpable? Do you ever think "Jeez, we don't always have to be Morgan Freeman in the commercial. Go ahead, get the bad warranty."
See, if the black guys made dumb decisions in commericals with the equivalent frequency of whites, wouldn't that be the REAL sign of progress? The real sign of the tolerant multiracial society? Yes I think so.
I've been annoyed for years at the way race is handled in commercials. I've never said anything - it is a sensitive topic. But what am I so afriad of? I'm not a bigot. Can't well meaning people talk about these things? I say yes.
Why is it that when a commercial shows two people using competing products, and one person is white, and the other is black, the white guy is always using the inferior Brand X and the black guy is always using the good brand? Doesn't matter if it's detergent, a cold remedy, a brake job, anything. No way the white guy ever makes the right choice if his counterpart is a person of color. Not 75% of the time, not 90% of the time, but every time - without exception - my entire life.
Now don't even start formulating a response yet. First I'll state the obvious. Clearly, television has a responsibility to avoid hurtful negative stereotypes. And generally, they do a great job. If there was an episode of say, Mr. Belvedere, where the family was burgled and terrorized by a couple of sadistic black thieves, I'd come right out and say it - that would be irresponsible. If someone cast a Jew as the greedy moneylender or a hispanic as a thieving housemaid... also very bad. TV is generally very careful about stuff like that.
But it IS possible to go too far. Just once I'd like to see the black woman pull her shirt out of the dryer, see that the stain is still there and shake her head with dismay; while on the other side of the screen the white woman pulls out her totally clean shirt, and gives a nod of tremendous satisfaction, as if to say "Oh yeah." Would that be such a shocking taboo?
It's not that I want to see a white woman triumph at the expense of a black woman, it's just, I don't know, commercials portay minorities, black people especially, as these secular saints who are capable of no wrong or error, are savvy, witty and fiercely intelligent, and have impeccable style and taste. This annoys me not because I'm thinking "Hey wait a minute! Black people aren't that smart!" - It annoys be because it's deeply condescending. And it's not even cynical, calculated condescension, it's gutless, spineless condescension. It's the cowardly pandering of some advertiser who knows he needs to use a black person in the commercial lest he be accused of anything, but knows he also can't cast the guy in anything other than the "clever bloke" role, lest he be accused of anything. He's not trying to be socially conscious, he simply is steering down the one route which he knows will protect him from any accusation of wrongdoing. And because of this, the white guy always winds up with the stain on his shirt.
Can you imagine what would happen if you saw this commercial? Two guys (one white, one black) are both up for a big promotion at work. They each have a big presentation in the morning. But oh no! They each have a terrible head cold! The white guy reaches for his trusty NyQuil and knocks back a swig. Ahhhhh. The black guy on the other side of the screen is fumbling with his "generic decongestant". That bathroom doesn't look so tidy either, come to think of it....
Time passes....
The white guy wakes up bright and early, what a great night's sleep! He aces the presentation and the boss shakes his hand. Great job! But look at the other side of the screen... the black guy looks terrible! He didn't get a wink of sleep! No way he can make that presentation. Looks like no promotion this year.
Admit it, that commercial would blow your mind. You'd walk around all day feeling vaguely disconcerted. You'd know there was something really weird about that NyQuil ad, but you wouldn't know what. You wouldn't be able to figure it out.
If that commercial existed, and it never will, it would prompt outrage. People in the race business would be mad, but I don't think they'd know quite what to say. Is the commercial reinforcing the dangerous stereotype that black people simply don't know how to shop for a decongestant? How dare NyQuil not cast the black guy as the one using the preferred cold remedy! What are they trying to say, that blacks don't have a flawless record at treating their colds with effective, name brand expectorants?
You see, it's silly. And yet no white guy has ever "won" the commercial. Sometimes it just gets ridiculous. How about those home security commercials, advertising an alarm system. Have you seen these burglars? They look like silent film era bank robbers: the black turtleneck, the skullcap, the sensible slacks, the two-day stubble, a crowbar in one hand and a valise bag in the other. These are the lengths we're willing to go to make sure our "villain" in the commercial is a white guy.
I think there must be minorities who are equally annoyed with this. Isn't the condescension palpable? Do you ever think "Jeez, we don't always have to be Morgan Freeman in the commercial. Go ahead, get the bad warranty."
See, if the black guys made dumb decisions in commericals with the equivalent frequency of whites, wouldn't that be the REAL sign of progress? The real sign of the tolerant multiracial society? Yes I think so.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
100 Annoyances
81. A 5 way intersection
82. Ghostwritten autobiographies
83. When someone you're sharing food with covers the entire portion with their condiment of choice without first getting your approval.
84. Cutting a piece out of the book jacket (or even just magic markering it) to get rid of the price. Look, it's perfectly obvious that the book was something like $21.95, and I would much rather just have an unmutilated jacket. I think that's reasonable.
85. Teaser Trailers with no actual footage
86. Striking up a conversation at the urinal
87. People who specifically request Captain Morgan
88. Why does the E Network only air Howard Stern shows featuring models or porn stars? Well, yes because people like hot chicks. But Stern is soooo much funnier when he's got a good celebrity guest or a funny topic. Having porn stars promote their websites is just not the best Stern. And yet E cannot bring itself to air any Stern episode that doesn't feature nudity. It's like they've got some bullet-point, ten-words-or-less understanding of what Stern is about. He's about hot chicks. Jesus.
89. "Gentle reader"
90. Selecting The Four Seasons or Mozart's A Little Night Music for that scene in your movie where you need some classical music.
91. Arial. It’s the ass of fonts, yet somehow everywhere you go it pops up as the default font. Why?
92. Saying "in statu quo" instead of status quo. Ooooooh I'm so impressed.
93. When books are written and published about current events and the events in question are still very much in progress. Some recent examples: a book on the 2004 presidential campaign published in August 2004 - a 9/11 retrospective published a month after 9/11 - a book on the Scott Peterson trial published during the trial, etc.
94. Low carb bread?
95. That weird, V-holdish blurry distortion when a computer monitor is on TV.
96. When you spend extra time making absolutely sure that you only took one paper plate, I mean really making sure, and yet you somehow took 3 plates.
97. Station Identification
98. When a line of dialogue is written to interrupt another line of dialogue, and there’s that just-noticeable-pause after the first actor artificially stops in his middle of his sentence and before the second actor actually butts in with the interruption. So it sounds like this:
Scotty: “But Captain! The torpedo tubes are jammed and I can’t possibly fix…”
Kirk: “……Damn it Scotty, there’s no time!”
99. Just ordering water.
100. The agony of deciding whether to pay or ignore the parking lot payment box, even when it seems logically impossible that the lot could really be monitored effectively, and even when the lot didn't use to charge anything and how dare they, and ultimately having to squeeze 3 dollars into a little slat into which 3 dollars cannot be squeezed.
82. Ghostwritten autobiographies
83. When someone you're sharing food with covers the entire portion with their condiment of choice without first getting your approval.
84. Cutting a piece out of the book jacket (or even just magic markering it) to get rid of the price. Look, it's perfectly obvious that the book was something like $21.95, and I would much rather just have an unmutilated jacket. I think that's reasonable.
85. Teaser Trailers with no actual footage
86. Striking up a conversation at the urinal
87. People who specifically request Captain Morgan
88. Why does the E Network only air Howard Stern shows featuring models or porn stars? Well, yes because people like hot chicks. But Stern is soooo much funnier when he's got a good celebrity guest or a funny topic. Having porn stars promote their websites is just not the best Stern. And yet E cannot bring itself to air any Stern episode that doesn't feature nudity. It's like they've got some bullet-point, ten-words-or-less understanding of what Stern is about. He's about hot chicks. Jesus.
89. "Gentle reader"
90. Selecting The Four Seasons or Mozart's A Little Night Music for that scene in your movie where you need some classical music.
91. Arial. It’s the ass of fonts, yet somehow everywhere you go it pops up as the default font. Why?
92. Saying "in statu quo" instead of status quo. Ooooooh I'm so impressed.
93. When books are written and published about current events and the events in question are still very much in progress. Some recent examples: a book on the 2004 presidential campaign published in August 2004 - a 9/11 retrospective published a month after 9/11 - a book on the Scott Peterson trial published during the trial, etc.
94. Low carb bread?
95. That weird, V-holdish blurry distortion when a computer monitor is on TV.
96. When you spend extra time making absolutely sure that you only took one paper plate, I mean really making sure, and yet you somehow took 3 plates.
97. Station Identification
98. When a line of dialogue is written to interrupt another line of dialogue, and there’s that just-noticeable-pause after the first actor artificially stops in his middle of his sentence and before the second actor actually butts in with the interruption. So it sounds like this:
Scotty: “But Captain! The torpedo tubes are jammed and I can’t possibly fix…”
Kirk: “……Damn it Scotty, there’s no time!”
99. Just ordering water.
100. The agony of deciding whether to pay or ignore the parking lot payment box, even when it seems logically impossible that the lot could really be monitored effectively, and even when the lot didn't use to charge anything and how dare they, and ultimately having to squeeze 3 dollars into a little slat into which 3 dollars cannot be squeezed.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Christmas Observations
On December 25th, I made an interesting observation. It was about Christmas music. You know by now I'm sure how much I hate the annual aerial bombardment of Christmas music. From the first moment some daring indivdual decides to pipe in "Silver Bells" over the system in the mattress store sometime in mid-October, to a few days after new years when the last Starbucks clerk realizes he needs to change the store CD back to Louis Armstrong, it's all-Christmas, all the time.
And of course, it's all really lame remixes of classic carols. I've commented on this at length before. But my observation this week was noticing the dramatic change on Christmas Day itself. For months, all the music we are subjected to is this pop-tripe. Hip teenage country vocal starlets giving us down-tempo Silent Nights with too much vibrato. Then suddenly on Christmas Day, no more of that shit! For one glorious day it's all bell medleys, purely instrumental versions of carols, boys choirs, orchestral pieces with generous horn sections.... Now that's good Christmas!
Too bad it's only one day a year we actually get some decent Christmas music. Or maybe, good that it's only one day. We wouldn't want to get sick of it.
Another observation. The calendar-as-Christmas-gift is PLAYED. It's the official least imaginative, least original, least exciting gift in the gift universe. It makes socks look like a 1st edition autographed copy of a favorite book.
I mean, sure, it's a somewhat useful gift. Sort of. And there are ways of personalizing your calendar choice. Kind of. But even if the person gets you a Weimeraner calendar because they know you love Weimeraners, there's still that feeling that they used Microsoft Gift-Wizard to get you the present.
For me, a present warms the heart in a direct proportion to how much thought was put into it. It's not about money, and it's not about practicality. Isn't it about an expression of affection? The calendar is the anti-affectionate gift. It says "I was obligated to get something, but I either a) don't care one bit, or b) lack rudimentary present skills."
And this years award for most irritating Christmas commercial goes to....
Honda's "Happy Hondadays" - for actually blending the loathsome use of holiday in the singular (as in "Have a great holiday" or "This holiday...") with blatant greed ("Hondaday") and simultaneously exploiting their little play on words as a way of excusing their taboo use of a Christmas Carol through humor. Hmm, I bet no one understood that. I think when it comes to hating Christmas marketing, I'm in my own little universe that only I can understand. Basically what I'm saying is, most commercials are too timid to actually use Christmas Carols in the commercial. It's too preferential to Christmas as the expense of say, Kwanzaa. Honda found a way around that politically correct obligation - not by growing a backbone - but by gently mocking the holiday through the use of a pun. Instead of "Holy", now it's "Honda"! Isn't that funny! Using a Christmas carol is okay, since it's meant in jest!
These are the things I think about.
Finally, I have a Christmas gift for anyone who's reading this. Don't think I haven't forgotten about you. Your present is that I'm going to spare you the long, detail filled, terminally boring story of my hassle-filled airport experience coming home yesterday. See, most people would tell you every last excrutiating detail, as if they were the only people in history who ever had hassles at the airport, and as if it was an interesting story, even though it would not be one. Like these people, I too am seized with a desire to start talking about it. But I will refrain. Merry Christmas.
And of course, it's all really lame remixes of classic carols. I've commented on this at length before. But my observation this week was noticing the dramatic change on Christmas Day itself. For months, all the music we are subjected to is this pop-tripe. Hip teenage country vocal starlets giving us down-tempo Silent Nights with too much vibrato. Then suddenly on Christmas Day, no more of that shit! For one glorious day it's all bell medleys, purely instrumental versions of carols, boys choirs, orchestral pieces with generous horn sections.... Now that's good Christmas!
Too bad it's only one day a year we actually get some decent Christmas music. Or maybe, good that it's only one day. We wouldn't want to get sick of it.
Another observation. The calendar-as-Christmas-gift is PLAYED. It's the official least imaginative, least original, least exciting gift in the gift universe. It makes socks look like a 1st edition autographed copy of a favorite book.
I mean, sure, it's a somewhat useful gift. Sort of. And there are ways of personalizing your calendar choice. Kind of. But even if the person gets you a Weimeraner calendar because they know you love Weimeraners, there's still that feeling that they used Microsoft Gift-Wizard to get you the present.
For me, a present warms the heart in a direct proportion to how much thought was put into it. It's not about money, and it's not about practicality. Isn't it about an expression of affection? The calendar is the anti-affectionate gift. It says "I was obligated to get something, but I either a) don't care one bit, or b) lack rudimentary present skills."
And this years award for most irritating Christmas commercial goes to....
Honda's "Happy Hondadays" - for actually blending the loathsome use of holiday in the singular (as in "Have a great holiday" or "This holiday...") with blatant greed ("Hondaday") and simultaneously exploiting their little play on words as a way of excusing their taboo use of a Christmas Carol through humor. Hmm, I bet no one understood that. I think when it comes to hating Christmas marketing, I'm in my own little universe that only I can understand. Basically what I'm saying is, most commercials are too timid to actually use Christmas Carols in the commercial. It's too preferential to Christmas as the expense of say, Kwanzaa. Honda found a way around that politically correct obligation - not by growing a backbone - but by gently mocking the holiday through the use of a pun. Instead of "Holy", now it's "Honda"! Isn't that funny! Using a Christmas carol is okay, since it's meant in jest!
These are the things I think about.
Finally, I have a Christmas gift for anyone who's reading this. Don't think I haven't forgotten about you. Your present is that I'm going to spare you the long, detail filled, terminally boring story of my hassle-filled airport experience coming home yesterday. See, most people would tell you every last excrutiating detail, as if they were the only people in history who ever had hassles at the airport, and as if it was an interesting story, even though it would not be one. Like these people, I too am seized with a desire to start talking about it. But I will refrain. Merry Christmas.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Man of the Year
Time Magazine's Person-of-the-year award just annoys the hell out of me. And for so many, many reasons. It's POTY season just about now, in fact I think the POTY is being announced in a day or two. But let us look back at the many failures of this botched enterprise, and see just what they're doing wrong.
Let me start by pointing out that the reason I'm able to get pissed about the many glaring failures in the history of Man of the Year is because Man of the Year is, genuinely, a really good idea. You don't see me getting worked up over the daytime Emmys or the People's Choice awards. What would be the point? Time's POTY, by contrast, is actually really cool. It's cool because it acknowledges the "Great Man" theory of history, which I strongly concur with - basically the idea that the tides of history can turn on the actions of individuals. That a charismatic, passionate individual of will and determination can really change the face of history. Maybe by being a head of state, or an artist, or a scientist, or a general, or even a poet - who knows. The individual can make a difference. I think that's just obviously true.
So bravo Time Magazine. I love the idea. But man, sometimes they just really make terrible choices!
First offense: whenever they choose a non-person. Like "The Personal Computer" or "The Endangered Earth"
Obviously I won't dispute that the personal computer has massive historical importace. And global warming too is an important issue. But, um, so is the rise of the internet... and the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the disintigration of the USSR, and 9/11, and the end of South African apartheid, and genetically engineered food, and the transfer of Hong Kong to Chinese rule, and HUNDREDS OF OTHER THINGS. Time has over 50 other weeks during the year to do a big cover on global warming. This is the MAN of the year issue, not the PET CAUSE of the year issue.
There will always be big stories. But POTY should acknowledge a person.
Second Offense: choosing whole groups of people. Like "The American fighting man.", "Middle America", "The American Woman" and I even include "The Peacemakers" (concerning the Oslo Accords)
The American fighting Man was from the Korean War era I think. But just last year it was "The American Soldier". No no no no no. Nyet. I hate these the most, even more than the abstract choices like the personal computer, because they represent to me a denial of the Great Man Theory. A lot of people don't like the great man theory. They think there's a kind of arrogance or elitism in saying that this one person made more of a difference this year than everyone else. In their view, the common man and his culmulative actions are really in history's drivers seat.
Now I don't wholly disagree with that point. But I reject that naming one person the Person of the Year is an arrogant, elitist thing to do. It seems like everytime Time Magazine gives it up for "The American Soldier", they do it as kind of an apologetic concession to this alternate viewpoint. "Hey readers," Time seems to be saying, "Most years we give this thing to a CEO or a president, but our hearts just go out to the troops right now. They're the ones making it all happen. They're the people of the year!"
Well, except that it's just not true. In WWII, at various points, Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt and Churchill were all men of the year. Why wasn't it "The British Soldier"? When the CEO of General Motors won it, how come it didn't go to "The Assembly Line Worker?"
Do you see my point? If the purpose of the award is to say "Here's one person who changed history this year", then give it to one person. If the purpose of the award is really just "The Big Thing of the Year", then give it to "The Iraq War". Either way, giving it to "The American Soldier" is not correct, and obviously just a concession to the Great Man Theory rejectionists.
Unless, I don't know, did the American Soldier really reinvent the wheel on soldiering in 2003? Were they an entirely new kind of soldier? I don't really think so.
Third Offense: The provincialism. Examples: every newly elected or newly reelected US president - also "The American Soldier" and the "American" anything.
Granted, the US is the lone superpower and all that. The things we do as a nation and a culture are worthy of a little extra scrutiny. Our trends can become global trends. But that's no excuse for the way-over-the-top America-centric worldview of POTY. I mean, if you want to add the disclaimer that the POTY award is meant to be by Americans, for Americans, about Americans, then yes, many of the choices are fine. But I don't think that's what Time has in mind. Time wants it to be global. Every single US president since POTY got started (hmm, except Ford) has been included. Is there no difference in importance between Carter and FDR?
A politician who I will not name, said (during the debate from 1999 about who should be named Person of the Century) that it should be "The American Soldier". Wow, I just find that so arrogant it makes me want to cringe and apologize to anyone reading abroad. Now if you wanted to name "America" the country of the century, then you have a case. But the "American Soldier?" Are we talking about the same American soldier who turned a blind eye to global atrocities in two world wars and only belatedly joined the struggle each time?
Now, I love my country and I love our soldiers, but how is the American Soldier any braver, nobler, smarter, stronger and more courageous than any other soldier of any other nation fighting the good fight? How about the British soldier in WWII, fighting on against Hitler after every other ally had given up and surrendered, fighting on for a year with no help when England's defeat seemed inevitable. The Brits alone in 1941 against the entire nazi war machine. But no, let's give it to the "American Soldier". Great suggestion Hillary. (whoops!)
Fourth offense: the whole gender thing with the name of the award.
Look, they found a great way to do it in the 80s and 90s. If it was a man, then that year it was the Man of the Year. If it was a woman, then it was the Woman of the Year. That's great. That works. Now, whoever wins it, it's the person of the year. That sucks. It's doesn't sound good. It's annoying in that unique way that only a politically correct phrase can be.
And how about that 1975 winner "U.S. Women"? It's the hat trick of bad. It commits offense two, offense three, and also this one. Just as "The American Soldier" is really just a concession and an apology to the "Great Man Theory" rejectionists, isn't "US Women" really just a way for Time Magazine to declare that the Man of the Year award is not sexist? Does it serve any purpose besides the rah-rah cheerleading of the "American Soldier" variety?
Now who could possibly agree with everything I've just said? Probably no one. Oh, one more: naming Gorbachev man of the decade for the 80s. Great choice comrades. Really, there's maybe half an argument for "Reagan & Gorbachev" as a men of the decade duo, but just choosing Gorbachev? Time could have just sent Reagan a private letter saying Fuck You and spared their readership the burden of actually having to read all that drivel.
There. Now definitely no one can agree with all that.
But I will give Time props for the eventual man of the century choice: Eintstein. That was the right choice. Though an equally opinionated friend of mine was insistent that it should be Churchill and we almost came to blows.
Here, for reference, is the full list. http://www.time.com/time/personoftheyear/archive/stories/
Let me start by pointing out that the reason I'm able to get pissed about the many glaring failures in the history of Man of the Year is because Man of the Year is, genuinely, a really good idea. You don't see me getting worked up over the daytime Emmys or the People's Choice awards. What would be the point? Time's POTY, by contrast, is actually really cool. It's cool because it acknowledges the "Great Man" theory of history, which I strongly concur with - basically the idea that the tides of history can turn on the actions of individuals. That a charismatic, passionate individual of will and determination can really change the face of history. Maybe by being a head of state, or an artist, or a scientist, or a general, or even a poet - who knows. The individual can make a difference. I think that's just obviously true.
So bravo Time Magazine. I love the idea. But man, sometimes they just really make terrible choices!
First offense: whenever they choose a non-person. Like "The Personal Computer" or "The Endangered Earth"
Obviously I won't dispute that the personal computer has massive historical importace. And global warming too is an important issue. But, um, so is the rise of the internet... and the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the disintigration of the USSR, and 9/11, and the end of South African apartheid, and genetically engineered food, and the transfer of Hong Kong to Chinese rule, and HUNDREDS OF OTHER THINGS. Time has over 50 other weeks during the year to do a big cover on global warming. This is the MAN of the year issue, not the PET CAUSE of the year issue.
There will always be big stories. But POTY should acknowledge a person.
Second Offense: choosing whole groups of people. Like "The American fighting man.", "Middle America", "The American Woman" and I even include "The Peacemakers" (concerning the Oslo Accords)
The American fighting Man was from the Korean War era I think. But just last year it was "The American Soldier". No no no no no. Nyet. I hate these the most, even more than the abstract choices like the personal computer, because they represent to me a denial of the Great Man Theory. A lot of people don't like the great man theory. They think there's a kind of arrogance or elitism in saying that this one person made more of a difference this year than everyone else. In their view, the common man and his culmulative actions are really in history's drivers seat.
Now I don't wholly disagree with that point. But I reject that naming one person the Person of the Year is an arrogant, elitist thing to do. It seems like everytime Time Magazine gives it up for "The American Soldier", they do it as kind of an apologetic concession to this alternate viewpoint. "Hey readers," Time seems to be saying, "Most years we give this thing to a CEO or a president, but our hearts just go out to the troops right now. They're the ones making it all happen. They're the people of the year!"
Well, except that it's just not true. In WWII, at various points, Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt and Churchill were all men of the year. Why wasn't it "The British Soldier"? When the CEO of General Motors won it, how come it didn't go to "The Assembly Line Worker?"
Do you see my point? If the purpose of the award is to say "Here's one person who changed history this year", then give it to one person. If the purpose of the award is really just "The Big Thing of the Year", then give it to "The Iraq War". Either way, giving it to "The American Soldier" is not correct, and obviously just a concession to the Great Man Theory rejectionists.
Unless, I don't know, did the American Soldier really reinvent the wheel on soldiering in 2003? Were they an entirely new kind of soldier? I don't really think so.
Third Offense: The provincialism. Examples: every newly elected or newly reelected US president - also "The American Soldier" and the "American" anything.
Granted, the US is the lone superpower and all that. The things we do as a nation and a culture are worthy of a little extra scrutiny. Our trends can become global trends. But that's no excuse for the way-over-the-top America-centric worldview of POTY. I mean, if you want to add the disclaimer that the POTY award is meant to be by Americans, for Americans, about Americans, then yes, many of the choices are fine. But I don't think that's what Time has in mind. Time wants it to be global. Every single US president since POTY got started (hmm, except Ford) has been included. Is there no difference in importance between Carter and FDR?
A politician who I will not name, said (during the debate from 1999 about who should be named Person of the Century) that it should be "The American Soldier". Wow, I just find that so arrogant it makes me want to cringe and apologize to anyone reading abroad. Now if you wanted to name "America" the country of the century, then you have a case. But the "American Soldier?" Are we talking about the same American soldier who turned a blind eye to global atrocities in two world wars and only belatedly joined the struggle each time?
Now, I love my country and I love our soldiers, but how is the American Soldier any braver, nobler, smarter, stronger and more courageous than any other soldier of any other nation fighting the good fight? How about the British soldier in WWII, fighting on against Hitler after every other ally had given up and surrendered, fighting on for a year with no help when England's defeat seemed inevitable. The Brits alone in 1941 against the entire nazi war machine. But no, let's give it to the "American Soldier". Great suggestion Hillary. (whoops!)
Fourth offense: the whole gender thing with the name of the award.
Look, they found a great way to do it in the 80s and 90s. If it was a man, then that year it was the Man of the Year. If it was a woman, then it was the Woman of the Year. That's great. That works. Now, whoever wins it, it's the person of the year. That sucks. It's doesn't sound good. It's annoying in that unique way that only a politically correct phrase can be.
And how about that 1975 winner "U.S. Women"? It's the hat trick of bad. It commits offense two, offense three, and also this one. Just as "The American Soldier" is really just a concession and an apology to the "Great Man Theory" rejectionists, isn't "US Women" really just a way for Time Magazine to declare that the Man of the Year award is not sexist? Does it serve any purpose besides the rah-rah cheerleading of the "American Soldier" variety?
Now who could possibly agree with everything I've just said? Probably no one. Oh, one more: naming Gorbachev man of the decade for the 80s. Great choice comrades. Really, there's maybe half an argument for "Reagan & Gorbachev" as a men of the decade duo, but just choosing Gorbachev? Time could have just sent Reagan a private letter saying Fuck You and spared their readership the burden of actually having to read all that drivel.
There. Now definitely no one can agree with all that.
But I will give Time props for the eventual man of the century choice: Eintstein. That was the right choice. Though an equally opinionated friend of mine was insistent that it should be Churchill and we almost came to blows.
Here, for reference, is the full list. http://www.time.com/time/personoftheyear/archive/stories/
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