Category Archives: Popular culture

‘Jumping the shark:’ You keep using that phrase. I do not think it means what you think it means…

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In today’s WSJ, under the headline, “Jumping the sequester,” columnist Kimberley A. Strassel writes the following:

The phrase “jumping the shark” describes that gimmicky moment when something once considered significant is exposed as ludicrous. This is the week the White House jumped the sequester.

The precise moment came Tuesday, when the administration announced that it was canceling public tours of the White House, blaming budget cuts. The Sequesterer in Chief has insisted that cutting even $44 billion from this fiscal year will cause agonizing pain—airport security snarls, uninspected meat, uneducated children. Since none of those things has come to pass, the White House decided it needed an immediate and high-profile way of making its point. Ergo, it would deny the nation’s school kids a chance to view a symbol of America.

The act was designed to spark outrage against Republicans, yet the sheer pettiness of it instead provided a moment of clarity. Americans might not understand the technicalities of sequester, but this was something else entirely. Was the president actually claiming there was not a single other government item—not one—that could be cut instead of the White House tours? Really?

Yeahhh… I don’t think that’s jumping the shark. Do y’all.? That sounds to me like somebody wrote the headline first, and tried to force the column to fit it. Let’s look at the Wikipedia definition:

Jumping the shark is an idiom created by Jon Hein that is used to describe the moment in the evolution of a television show when it begins a decline in quality that is beyond recovery, which is usually a particular scene, episode, or aspect of a show in which the writers use some type of “gimmick” in a desperate attempt to keep viewers’ interest…

And here’s the origin:

The phrase jump the shark comes from a scene in the fifth season premiere episode of the American TV series Happy Days titled “Hollywood: Part 3“, written by Fred Fox, Jr.[4] which aired on September 20, 1977. In the episode, the central characters visit Los Angeles, where a water-skiing Fonzie (Henry Winkler) answers a challenge to his bravery by wearing swim trunks and his trademark leather jacket, and jumping over a confined shark. The stunt was created as a way to showcase Winkler’s real life water ski skills.[5]

For a show that in its early seasons depicted universally relatable adolescent and family experiences against a backdrop of 1950s nostalgia, this incident marked an audacious, cartoonish turn towards attention-seeking gimmickry. Initially a supporting character, the faddish lionization of an increasingly superhuman Fonzie became the focus of Happy Days. The series continued for seven years after Fonzie’s shark-jumping stunt, with a number of changes in cast and situations. However, it is commonly[who?] believed that the show began a creative decline in this era, as writers ran out of ideas, and Happy Daysbecame a caricature of itself. As a nod to the episode, Henry Winkler’s character again jumped a shark in the 2003 show Arrested Development…

To me, that’s a pretty clear definition that the Strossel example doesn’t fit. You can call the White House cancellation of tours all kinds of things — in these parts, we’d call it a “Big Bird defense” — but it’s not jumping the shark.

That said, the very same Wikipedia entry I quote above gives an example, also involving Barack Obama, that I don’t think fits either:

In 2008 during the Obama presidential campaign, at a meeting of Democratic governors in Chicago, each governor was identified with a name plate while Senator Obama had a large seal – that looked official but was not.[11] The New York Times op-ed columnist Frank Rich wrote “For me, Mr. Obama showed signs of jumping the shark two weeks back, when he appeared at a podium affixed with his own pompous faux-presidential seal”.[12]

So what do I consider to be a perfect example of jumping the shark? This: When the Beverly Hillbillies went to England. Actually, that series jumped the shark several times; it was sort of a defining characteristic. It sort of did so when Jethro received his draft notice and costumed himself as Patton and bought a tank. It really, really did so when the whole cast jumped fictional universes, going to Hooterville to interact with characters from “Petticoat Junction” and “Green Acres.” (A radical change of venue can be a good sign that a shark is being jumped.)

In fact, those examples are so good that I have trouble coming up with any others that illustrate the  concept so well, as I understand it. It’s not limited to iconic sitcoms, of course. And it can be translated to politics. When Bill Clinton played saxophone on Arsenio Hall seems a pretty clear example. If you go way back, there’s Richard Nixon’s “Sock it to me?” on “Laugh-In.”

But closing the White House to tours? Not so much…

Sorry, but ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ wasn’t Best Picture

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The Wall Street Journal editorial board has been upset with U.S. senators Feinstein, Levin and McCain for criticizing the makers of “Zero Dark Thirty” for making it look like torture was essential to getting Osama bin Laden.

Now, the editors blame the senators for the movie’s poor showing at the Oscars:

As no one should forget, Senators Dianne Feinstein, Carl Levin and John McCain wrote letters to Sony Pictures and the CIA charging that “Zero Dark Thirty” was a “grossly inaccurate and misleading” portrayal of the interrogation of al Qaeda detainees. Ms. Feinstein’s intelligence committee opened an inquiry into what the CIA told the filmmakers, and the letters coincided with a media attack led by those great believers in artistic free expression at the New Yorker magazine.

Well, mission accomplished. The film was among the best reviewed of 2012 and has done well at the box office. But the attacks had their desired effect of intimidating Hollywood. Director Kathryn Bigelow was denied an Oscar nomination and the film won only a single (shared) award for sound editing. The Oscar ceremonies were Sunday night.

A day later, Reuters reported that the Senate is dropping its investigation of the film and CIA cooperation with the filmmakers…

The WSJ’s reasoning seems to go like this: Feinstein and Levin are liberals (McCain and his experienced-based objections to torture are conveniently forgotten). Hollywood is full of liberals. So Hollywood was cowed into stiffing ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ by fear of straying from liberal orthodoxy. Or something.

But the editors are ignoring something: “Zero Dark Thirty” didn’t deserve Best Picture honors, or Best Director. It was good, even important (important enough that I don’t blame senators at all for taking a political stand on it). But Kathryn Bigelow’s “The Hurt Locker,” which did win the Best Picture honor in 2009, was a more impressive, highly original film.

And the torture scenes? Speaking artistically and not politically, they went on too long. Long enough that it’s perfectly understandable that someone who doesn’t want our national defense to depend on the mistreatment of prisoners to think a political point was being made, and to object to that point. If this had been a work of fiction, devoid of political content, I think most critics would say the interrogations scenes were a drag on the storytelling.

I actually think the point being made by the filmmakers was neutral. I don’t think they were saying torture is good or necessary. I thought they were just saying (oversaying), it happened. And it sorta kinda maybe helped find bin Laden. It’s something to throw into the mix of how we feel about all that. War, including asymmetrical war, is filled with moral ambiguities.

I think they thought it would have been dishonest to leave out that part. Maybe they were right. In any case, they did not make this year’s best picture. Not this time.

Now, changing the subject slightly — what should have been Best Picture? Well, I can’t judge that, because I haven’t seen “Argo.” But I can say with all confidence that I wouldn’t have given it to “Zero Dark Thirty” in the same year that “Lincoln” came out. And if a director was slighted this year, it was Steven Spielberg.

Stephen Colbert, promoting his sister’s candidacy

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With 16 — count ’em, sixteen — Republicans running to replace Tim Scott, each trying to shout the word “conservative!” louder and more often than the others, it’s easy to forget that there’s a Democratic primary as well.

Here’s video of Stephen Colbert — you probably know him as the guy who gets all his SC news from this blog — speaking on behalf of his sister, Elizabeth Colbert-Busch, who is generally regarded as the front-runner over on the Democratic side.

Is that Joe Riley standing up on the steps behind him? If so, Hey, Mayor!

Macfarlane on the Oscars: Funny, offensive, both, or neither?

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Everyone’s buzzing about Seth Macfarlane’s performance hosting the Academy Awards last night. Such words as “sexist” and “racist” have been used.

But what did anyone expect? If anything, his material was significantly toned down from the stuff you can hear, and see depicted in cartoon form, on “The Family Guy” before prime time each evening. To call Macfarlane’s brand of humor sophomoric is to promote it several years past its middle-school level. That is, it’s the kind of humor you’d hear from a middle-schooler who was demonically quick and witty. Admittedly, Macfarlane’s material is the sort that makes people laugh, even if they’re feeling guilty while doing so.

Racism (we are all invited to laugh at Brian, the racist dog), graphic violence involving children, incest, and mockery of religion are pretty much standard fare on “The Family Guy.” (And at this point, I’m feeling pretty embarrassed for knowing all that.) Ditto with “Ted” — it’s funny, but don’t be fooled into letting the kids watch it just because it’s about a Teddy bear.

So explain to us why anyone would be shocked at his “We Saw Your Boobs” bit last night? From him, that’s pretty mild stuff.

At one point, a joke was made about how it would have been better to have engaged the services of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, who co-hosted the Golden Globes. Hey, no joke — they would have made people laugh without cringing.

But seriously, if you engage the services of Seth Macfarlane, this is what you get, at the very least. No sense moaning about it afterward.

House of Cards: A political fantasy in which a South Carolina congressional district is represented by a white Democrat

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That — what I said in my headline — is what struck me first about the American version of “House of Cards.” Kevin Spacey’s character is a powerful congressman who represents South Carolina’s 5th District. At least, he’s from Gaffney, and that’s in the 5th District. (The Peachoid features prominently in episode 3.)

Indeed, that district was represented by a senior white Democrat, John Spratt, just a couple of years back. But that was before the Tea Party, before the Republican Party cemented its hold on the entire delegation — except for Jim Clyburn, whose district is secure because the GOP doesn’t want those black voters in their six districts.

Have you seen the series? It’s the first original series on Netflix, and in keeping with the new national watching habit that that service helped foster, they’ve given us the entire first series all at once. I appreciate that. That is, I would appreciate it if the series had proven to be as addictive as “Breaking Bad,” or “Homeland,” or “The Walking Dead.”

But it didn’t. Netflix had hoped it would, that the series would give it the kind of cred as a content producer (because it is such a hassle negotiating with others to use their content) that “The Sopranos” gave HBO. But this is no “Sopranos.” Nor is it a “Mad Men.”

First, it’s not original. It’s based on the 22-year-old British series of the same name, starring Ian Richardson, whom I will always think of as Bill Haydon in the original BBC production of le Carre’s “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.” The first season co-stars the lovely Susannah Harker, who five years later played Miss Jane Bennet in the definitive production of “Pride and Prejudice” (the one with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. (Hey, did y’all recognize her in “Zero Dark Thirty”? Jennifer Ehle, I mean. I knew I knew her, but I didn’t realize who she was, with her hair down and all, until the credits. And can you tell my caffeine is starting to kick in? I’m writing this at Barnes and Noble, with a cuppa the black stuff from the Starbucks across the parking lot — I prefer it to the “proudly served” version served here — and since I don’t drink it much since my ear thing started, I’m feeling it. Sorry about the digressions…)

Let’s focus in on Ms. Harker’s character, because I think it will help define why I don’t like the new American series as much. Oh, the production values are better; you can tell more money was probably spent making it look good, and the technology’s just better now than it was in 1990. But it’s not as engaging. My wife and I watched two episodes a night for two nights, then stopped. Last night, I proposed going back to it, and my wife OK, but as I called it up, said with disappointment, “Oh, you mean the American one…?” So we watched the last of the first season of the original.

But back to Ms. Harker’s character. She’s much, much more engaging than the extremely irritating little girl (which I mean both literally, in the sense of stature, and in the sense that our governor uses the phrase) played by Kate Mara in the Netflix version. She’s also more believable. It is far more credible that this is a person who would be able to keep a job. OK, so she eventually gets fired, but she kept the job for awhile.

MaraYeah, I get it. Mara’s supposed to be the brash “new wave” of electronic journalism, sweeping aside the conventions established by the old-timey ink-stained wretches. And maybe that offends me because I’m pretty sure I’m as adept at blogging and social media as her character is, and even if I’m not a grownup, I know how to act like one. Obnoxious is obnoxious. Then there’s the fact that we’re asked to believe that Spacey’s character — who has Robin Wright waiting at home, and no end of young lovelies walking the halls of Congress — would be attracted to her. She was cute in “Shooter” several years ago, in a waiflike sort of way, but both physically and in terms of personality, is about as cuddly as a hedgehog in this.

By contrast, Susanna Harker’s character in the original series, which debuted when she was 25, draws you in. Even though, or perhaps because, her tragic fascination with Richardson’s character makes me think of the refrain of Elvis Costello’s “You Little Fool,” you can’t help caring about her. You see why, for instance, her editor loves her hopelessly. Oh, and for any young people who think, “Well that was made in the olden days before women were set free and allowed to have sharp edges,” I’ll point out that it was 20 years after the leading edge of the movement that produced today’s allegedly liberated generation. (Sorry, but y’all didn’t invent independence and assertiveness.) Harker made her soft and vulnerable, but she also made her real. I found myself wishing she were a little more cynical and tough-minded, to keep her out of trouble, but at least she doesn’t come across as cheesy and contrived.harker

Why is this difference important? Well, because the main problem with the new American series is the utter lack of a sympathetic character. Everyone is horrible. It doesn’t have to be a soft, vulnerable young woman — any sympathetic character would do. This sort of thing doesn’t bother everyone. And indeed, a really excellent series can get overcome that flaw, as I think “Breaking Bad” does — I keep watching in horrified fascination. But normally, the lack of a likable character will ruin any work of fiction for me. As much as I enjoy Tom Wolfe’s old New Journalism — especially Acid Test and The Right Stuff (his only book in which one could detect a hint of admiration of his subjects) — I hated Bonfire of the Vanities. Brilliant writing, interesting Tory social commentary, but everyone in it was so contemptible, like loathsome little bugs being fried under Wolfe’s magnifying glass.

Eventually, I’ll watch the rest of the new version, if only to see if it ever does anything interesting with the supposed South Carolina connection. But so far, I’ll have to say that it doesn’t live up to the ambitions that Netflix had for it.

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My brief conversation yesterday with the professor himself

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One of the truly awesome things about Twitter is the opportunity to converse with interesting people you might never otherwise meet.

I’ve mentioned in the past my exchanges with Adam Baldwin, of which I’m very proud because I’m such a fan of “Firefly” in general, and the wisdom of Jayne Cobb (a favorite example: “Eatin’ people alive — where’s that get fun?”) in particular.

I’m also an admirer of “chap-hop” artist Professor Elemental (greatest hit: “Fighting Trousers“). And so I thoroughly enjoyed this exchange with him yesterday:

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The Professor is so generous, deigning to converse with his fans, even those in the colonies. Such affability, such condescension; it is hardly to be credited.

For me, an exchange like that is as fulfilling as… well, as when my (fictional) hero Jack Aubrey was addressed by his hero, Lord Nelson, as follows: “Aubrey, may I trouble you for the salt?” After that, Jack always tried to say it just the same way…

So yes, an old newsman who in his time has had extended conversations with Barack Obama, John McCain, both George Bushes, Al Gore, Jesse Jackson, Fred Thompson (and the lovely Mrs. Thompson), Joe Biden and so forth can still get a kick out of a brush with a celebrity.

But it has to be a certain kind of celebrity. I wouldn’t be particularly excited to have a Twitter conversation with, say, Beyonce. But I’d be thrilled — and not really in a good way, given that I’m a happily married man — if Felicia Day acknowledged me in a Tweet. (Again, as with Baldwin, there’s the Joss Whedon connection there.)

My standards are a little idiosyncratic, even eccentric, but they are my standards…

‘Conservative.’ You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

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On a previous thread, Kathryn noted that “satire” doesn’t mean what Todd Kincannon claims to think it means.

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That put me in mind of this joke (at right) I ran across on the interwebs a few days ago. You may have seen it before; there seem to be several versions of it out there. Still, it’s funny, if you’ve seen the movie.

When we started watching “Homeland” at my house a few weeks ago (and, in the modern fashion, zipped through both seasons fairly quickly), it took me an episode or two to realize that “Saul” — the one really likable, admirable character on the show, which makes me worry something awful’s going to happen with him — was Mandy Patinkin! Then, for the rest of that episode, I kept thinking, “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You keeled my father. Prepare to die.”

Which in turn, this morning (after seeing Kathryn’s comment), got me to thinking about his performance as “Che” in “Evita,” so I listened to that on Spotify while doing ADCO work.

See how everything in the world is related? But no, I don’t know how many degrees away from Kevin Bacon Mandy Patinkin is…

Anyway… a couple of recent posts, this one and this one, centered around the word “conservative” and its obsessive overuse in SC politics. And indeed, one of my objections to hearing it over and over, apart from the pure monotony, is that I do not think it means what many of the people using it think it means. As Bud noted earlier, “Seems to me it’s not particularly useful to just advocate for ‘conservatism’ when the meaning of the term is so blurred and overused.”

For instance, 19th-century classical liberalism is not conservatism, although many in SC — those along the Mark Sanford/Nikki Haley axis — seem to think it is. Nor is the kind of rhetoric and attitudes that Todd Kincannon puts on display on Twitter a conservative way to communicate. It’s not prudent; it’s not respectful of traditions for human communication. It’s bomb-throwing rather than keeping the peace. So neither he nor those who cheer such Tweets as the Trayvon Martin ones are conservative people. Or at least within that context, they are not being conservative.

Conservatives don’t give themselves over to anger; they are temperate. If language is to have meaning, that is. But too many people gut words of their actual meanings, and restuff them with whatever strikes their fancy. And pretty soon, words don’t mean what any of us think they mean.

My Top Ten favorite ads from the 2013 Super Bowl

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To hundreds of millions of Americans, today is the day after Super Sunday. To me, it’s Monday. (Hey, if I were a football fan I’d use those Roman numbers instead of “2013” in my headline.)

Still, I took some time this morning to look at the ads from the big event last night for the ADCO blog, and following are the ones I put in my Top Ten. (“Top Ten” may not sound very selective, until you reflect that there were 47 of them. Really.)

Here were my admittedly simplistic, off-the-top-of-my-head criteria:

  1. Does it sell the product?
  2. If it features a celebrity, does it make good use of that star power (or is it just a gratuitous appearance)?
  3. Is it original, clever, creative, witty, funny, whatever?

Anyway, here’s my list:

  1. Time Warner Cable: “Walking Dead” — Definitely sells the product, and most awesome use of star power: Isn’t Daryl everybody’s favorite “Walking Dead” survivor? “Yes, ma’am.” See video above.
  2. Mercedes: “Soul” — Great casting (nobody else can do that evil look like Willem Dafoe), and only Martin Scorsese has made better use of the Stones’ music. I was wondering how they were going to get out of the trap of the Mercedes actually being a devilish temptation; it was handled deftly, by punching the car’s (relative) low price.
  3. Dodge: “Farmer” — Accomplished what the “Jeep” one tried to do, and did it in an unexpected way. This one is the rightful successor to the much-maligned, but remembered, Clint Eastwood one.
  4. Kraft MiO Fit: “Liftoff” — I’m gonna miss that character. Or maybe not. Good thing we have Netflix. My favorite line of his from last episode of “”30 Rock”: When he calls a computer “the pornography box.”
  5. Volkswagen: “Get Happy” — Not a match for the Darth Vader kid, but a laudably original attempt.
  6. Samsung: “The Next Big Thing” — Two of Judd Apatow’s stars took it to one level, Saul from “Breaking Bad” took it to the next.
  7. Toyota: “Wish Granted” — Funny. Good star power. Give it a B+.
  8. Go Daddy: “Big Idea” — Had the hurdle of communicating (to the remaining millions who don’t have their own websites) what Go Daddy, does; jumped over it nicely. Far better than the other GoDaddy ad that everybody’s on about.
  9. Hyundai Turbo: “Stuck Behind” — Loved the “Breaking Bad” reference, if that’s what it was (the guy in the hazmat suit).
  10. Budweiser: “Brotherhood” — Deftly evokes the question, “Can a really big horse be man’s best friend?” (See video below.)

 

Why would SC Dems want to link themselves to Bill Maher?

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I was a bit surprised that I received an email announcing that Bill Maher will appear in Columbia from… Amanda Loveday, executive director of the S.C. Democratic Party.

Then I saw why:

Bill MaherThe South Carolina Democratic Party will be hosting a fundraiser and pre-show reception in conjunction with show and invite you to join in the company of fellow Democrats, food, drinks and premier seating.  Click here to buy tickets to the show and take part in the pre-show reception.  Tickets are limited and they will be offered on a first come, first serve basis.

What was missing from the release was anything that might answer the burning question: Why on Earth would Democrats in South Carolina want to link themselves to Bill Maher?

It really kind of floors me. The guy is sort of a modern apostle of incivility. His whole shtick is about being obnoxious.

I’m not alone in thinking this. When I mentioned in a post awhile back that I was sorta kinda almost agreeing with Maher about something, and how rare that was, we had an extended discussion, and only one person didn’t find the guy (at best) off-putting. That was Phillip, which sort of surprised me, Phillip being such a thoughtful guy who deals respectfully with those with whom he disagrees. Unlike Bill Maher.

More typical were the comments from Kathryn Fenner:

Bill Maher has that tone of dripping sarcasm and snide condescension, and he did a lot to hinder the cause of vaccinations with his ridiculous campaign. What a jerk!…

Bill Maher divides people and turns off a lot of people who otherwise might agree with him. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert do a far better job of saying what needs to be said and possibly winning converts to their point of view.

Maher would be far more effective if he’d get over himself: stop trying to establish his superiority and disdain for those beneath him and just stick to his point….

His “humor” is of the tripping somebody or otherwise humiliating somebody kind that most of us out grew in junior high, if we ever found it funny…

So, I ask again: Why would Democrats in this state want to link themselves so directly to someone this unlikable?

The simple answer might be: Dick Harpootlian. But still…

Yeah… sadly, conventional wisdom on The Monkees was right, for the most part

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I was looking this week at some promotional material for an event called “SHE Columbia: The Ultimate Girls’ Weekend,” and given my penchant for digression, I of course got to thinking about Elvis Costello’s “She,” which seemed more aesthetically rewarding than thinking about the 1965 film by that name.

Then, I also thought of “She” by The Monkees.

Which got me to wondering…

I was into The Monkees when the show first came on, when I was in junior high school in New Orleans. That was in my first year or so back in this country after two-and-a-half years without television or any easy access to American (or English) pop culture, and I was really, really into almost everything that TV threw at me. Take your pick: “The Monkees,” “Batman,” “The Time Tunnel,” “The Wild Wild West.” Hey, I even enjoyed watching Merv Griffin and “The Dating Game” (which will always have my respect for using Herb Alpert’s “Whipped Cream”). If it was on TV, I thought pretty much anything was cool, with the obvious exception of Lawrence Welk.

Anyway, I bought The Monkees’ first couple of albums, and when I briefly took drum lessons, it was the percussion part of “Stepping Stone” that I tried to master.

So, when I found myself highly impressed at the choice of music over a meth-cooking scene on “Breaking Bad” this past half-season (sorry; I can’t find video of it), and finally recognized it as The Monkees’ “Goin’ Down,” I thought, Wow.

The song worked so well as the accompaniment for that frenetically edited scene that it got me to thinking… were The Monkees actually better, musically, than conventional wisdom had it? After all, I hadn’t listened to them since I was a kid with indiscriminate tastes. How would they sound now? I had that thought months ago, but it didn’t occur to me to test the supposition until this week, by calling up their songs on Spotify.

Well, I hate to break it to you, but, well, conventional wisdom was mostly right. On song after song, my mind went “Ow!” and I clicked on the “next track” button.

The good stuff — and “Goin’ Down” fits in that category, with “She” and “Stepping Stone” not being all that bad — was pretty rare amid all that dross. The few hits for which they are remembered, such as “Last Train to Clarksville,” tower over the filler material on the albums.

Which, I suppose, is what you’d expect from a made-for-TV band in the mid-60s. You can’t just manufacture hits; they sort of have to come from inspiration. Which makes the achievement of those who did the music for “That Thing You Do” even more impressive. You ever listen to the soundtrack? One song after another that, while it might not make your Top Ten, you can easily imagine getting decent airplay on the radio circa 1964-65.

But you have to hand it to The Monkees “Goin’ Down.” That actually clicked. Not even the lyrics made me cringe.

‘Demand a Plan’ actors part of problem?

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My favorite celebrity Twitter follower, Adam Baldwin, brings my attention to the above video, which is an answer to the below video, in which various Hollywood types demand a plan for ending gun violence.

Ouch. As a demonstration of just how pervasive gun violence is in our popular culture, the answering video packs a lot of punch…

Your ‘Zero Dark Thirty’ scoreboard

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1134604 - Zero Dark Thirty

OK, I think I’ve got it straight now.

I had thought that the official GOP position was that “Zero Dark Thirty” was the result of an unholy relationship between the filmmakers and the Obama administration, meant to aggrandize the latter.

I had seen Sen. John McCain’s criticism of that film as overlapping somewhat with that position, although I also saw it as consistent with his principled, and very personal, opposition to torture.

I was vaguely inclined toward emphasizing the latter reason for McCain’s objections over the former, because I had heard that Democratic Sens. Dianne Feinstein and Carl Levin were joining McCain in his criticism of the movie.

Anyway, the editorial board of The Wall Street Journal stepped in today to straighten me out and clarify the partisan battle lines over the film:

You know it’s a bad day in America when Hollywood seems to have a better grip on intelligence issues than the Chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee and the top two Members at Armed Services. The film depicts the “enhanced interrogation techniques,” or EITs, used on the detainees held at the CIA’s so-called black sites, and hints that the interrogations provided at least some of the information that led to bin Laden’s killing.

What Ms. Bigelow intended by depicting the EITs is not for us to explain: This is an action flick, not a Ken Burns documentary. Yet the mere suggestion that such techniques paid crucial intelligence dividends—as attested by former Attorney General Michael Mukasey and former CIA Director Michael Hayden, among many others—has sent Mrs. Feinstein and her colleagues into paroxysms of indignation. They even have a 5,000-plus-page study that purports to prove her case…

One day, perhaps, some of our liberal friends will acknowledge that the real world is stuffed with the kinds of hard moral choices that “Zero Dark Thirty” so effectively depicts. Until then, they can bask in the easy certitudes of a report that, whatever it contains, deserves never to be read.

So, in the never-ending partisan argument, which requires that everyone take one of two (and only two) directly opposing positions, apparently opposition to the movie is officially a Democratic, liberal position, and John McCain’s agreement with that position is designated as just one of his “maverick” positions.

Whatever. I still sympathize with McCain’s objection to our nation embracing torture on any level.

And… I still look forward to seeing “Zero Dark Thirty.”

First-person shooter: What games did Loughner play?

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This is a post I wrote back in early 2011, and didn’t publish. Recent discussions of gun violence bring it back to the fore, so here it is…

In my Monday Wall Street Journal (the only edition I received after coming back from England until late Wednesday, which was really frustrating), I read the following about the Arizona shooter:

“All he did was play video games and play music,” said Tommy Marriotti, a high school friend.

And that got me to wondering: What sort of games did he play? Since initially reading that, I see he recently played Earth Empires, a strategy game. But I suspect he has at least at some time — maybe back in high school, maybe some other time — played another sort of game.

I find myself wondering whether he was into first-person shooter games…

I have two reasons for wondering that. First, there are the theories of Lt. Col. Dave Grossman (ret.). Col. Grossman is the foremost expert in the field of “killology,” a term he coined. He wrote a fascinating book, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society, which I recommend. It discusses the psychology of killing, mostly within the context of war. He explains that for most of military history, as long as we’ve had projectile weapons in the hands of the average soldier, the overwhelming majority of soldiers did not shoot to kill. Frequently, they didn’t fire their weapons at all, and when they did, they tended to fire over the heads of their enemies — to engage in a sort of threat display, rather than use deadly force.

They did this because for most humans, the reluctance to kill is deep and strong.

The U.S. military, realizing this (on the basis of extensive studies during and after WWII), started conditioning that reluctance out of soldiers starting with the Vietnam era (or perhaps a little earlier; it’s been awhile since I’ve read it). Soldiers started to be trained to quickly acquire the human target and fire accurately before thinking about it too much. The result is that the U.S. military is, soldier for soldier, the most deadly fighting force in the world, perhaps in history. (Probably the most dramatic demonstration of this was the battle of Mogadishu in 1993, in which elite soldiers faced mobs of Somali militias with a tendency to fire randomly and wildly with their AK-47s — the result was 18 dead Americans, but about 1,000 dead Somalis.) But soldiers who shoot now often pay a profound psychological cost later, and that was what Col. Grossman was motivated to study.

He has also ventured into related peacetime phenomena, such as the popularity and increasing sophistication of FPS games, which train the reflexes of the kids who play them to shoot quickly and accurately, without reluctance. He asserts that it’s not a bit surprising that we have Columbines given the ubiquity of such games. Kids have had conditioned out of them the hesitation that affected trained soldiers through most of history.

You may say Col. Grossman exaggerates. And indeed, some experts are far more phlegmatic about such games. I don’t think he does, but that’s because of the other reason I was interested: I’ve played these games myself. A decade or so ago, I had a copy of an early version of Wolfenstein. The violence was non-stop, but it was also cartoonish and unconvincing, only a step or two beyond Space Invaders. Now, it’s different…

Two years ago, I got myself a copy of Call of Duty: World at War. I was fascinated by the premise, which was to put the player in realistic scenarios from the Pacific and Eastern fronts in the Second World War. (Some of them weirdly realistic. When I saw some of the scenes from the Peleliu campaign in “The Pacific” recently, I thought, I’ve been there… It was weird.) But I was completely unprepared for two things: First, the realism. When I first booted up the game on my computer (and I had to get a more sophisticated video card to run it, even though my computer was almost new), I thought I was watching a video prologue — I didn’t realize the game had started. I couldn’t believe the graphics were that realistic, that high-res.

Second, the emotional manipulation, which was stunning. There are two story lines: In one, you are a U.S. Marine named Miller, fighting your way across the Pacific. In the other, you are a Red Army soldier. The designers of the game came up with their own way of overcoming any reluctance the player might have to shooting the enemy. The Marine scenario begins with Miller being a prisoner of the Japanese. As Miller, you watch the Japanese torture and kill your buddy, before one of them moves toward you with a knife, prepared to serve you in the same way — before he is stopped by the commandos who have come to rescue you. Your rescuers hand you a weapon, and by this point, you’re expected to know what to do with it.

In the start of the Russian scenario, you are lying still among dead and dying comrades in Stalingrad. As you lie there (the game won’t let you move at first), you watch German soldiers step around you, casually shooting the wounded as you watch helplessly. Somehow they overlook you. As the enemy moves away, a grizzled Red Army sergeant who was also playing dead whispers to you to follow him, and he will show you how to get your vengeance on the fascists, who, as he keeps reminding you, are raping your homeland. He hands you a sniper rifle…

Creepy, huh? At this point, you’d like me to tell you I didn’t go on and play the game, but I did. I’ve played it all the way through a number of times. It’s very seductive, because it’s challenging. But I wouldn’t argue if you were to say, “Yes, of course it is — like other forms of pornography.” I expect those of you who’ve never played such games will have all sorts of critical things to say about me for playing it, and I won’t argue with those assertions, either. I know how it looks. When my wife enters the room when I’m playing, I hastily shut it down. Because she is my conscience.

But that’s not the really creepy thing: Over time, I played the game less. I had mastered the easier levels, and the harder ones were just ridiculous. Also, well, I’ve tried to spend less of my life in nonproductive pursuits. But a number of months ago, I got curious about something: I had never played the “multiplayer” option, in which you fight against other players over the Internet. So I tried that.

And I discovered that either the world is full of unsuspected super-soldiers, with reflexes that are not to be believed, or there are a lot of geeks out there who spend WAY too much time getting ridiculously good at playing these games. The latter, of course, is most likely. And hardly surprising. But I discovered one thing that positively sent chills down my spine. I quickly accepted that I could not survive more than a few seconds against people whose reflexes were so finely honed to aggressive play of the game. Fine — I have trouble with basketball, too. And I figured that the guys who spend a lot of time on these games are 20-something, and an old guy like me can’t hope to keep up. But what got me was when I encountered a few players who had activated the feature that enabled them to speak with each other in real time as they shot and stabbed their way across the landscape.

The thing that got me was when I heard their voices.

They were little boys. They sounded like they were about 10. And they were very, very efficient, hyperaggressive and unhesitating virtual killers.

I quit playing at that point.

Anyway, that’s why I wonder — what sorts of games did Loughner play?

Garrick completely unsatisfied by hearing on Richland County voting debacle, and so am I

131 Replies

This latest release from Rep. Mia Garrick reminds me that I had meant to post something about yesterday’s fairly useless hearing on the Richland County voting debacle, but got sidetracked:

After yesterday’s “legislative fact-finding,” the public can now add a plethora of excuses to this real-life “reality TV” drama.  From the nameless subordinate who screwed everything up to the mysterious numbers in red that just magically appeared, we can blame this debacle on broken voting machine batteries and phantom PEBs…but alas, there we were 20 days and a grueling 3.5 hours later, and very few new facts, if any, were revealed.

Here’s what we knew before Monday’s meeting:

  • The Richland County Election Commission broke the law on Election day, by deploying an inadequate number of machines at most Richland County precincts.
  • No one, including the Director, can tell us why.
  • Many Richland County voters stood in line for 3-6 hours or more, braving cold, harsh conditions regardless of age, physical conditions or disabilities
  • Many Richland County voters were not able to cast their ballots because of the extensive waits and were effectively disenfranchised.
  • Although these Ivotronic machines have been in use across SC for 8 years now, only Richland County had the types of issues we faced on Nov. 6.  The other 45 counties executed their elections without significant incident.

Here’s what Monday’s 3.5 hour fact-finding hearing revealed:

  • The Richland County Election Commission broke the law on Election day, by deploying an inadequate number of machines at most Richland County precincts.
  • No one, including the Director, can tell us why.
  • Many Richland County voters stood in line for 3-6 hours or more, braving cold, harsh conditions regardless of age, physical conditions or disabilities.
  • Many Richland County voters were not able to cast their ballots because of the extensive waits and were effectively disenfranchised.
  • Although these Ivotronic machines have been in use across SC for 8 years now, only Richland County had the types of issues we faced on Nov. 6.  The other 45 counties executed their elections without significant incident.

The technical aspects of how the machines work shouldn’t have been our primary focus and yet, the first half of our meeting was devoted to technical information that is of little or no value to voters who only want assurances that they can exercise their rights to vote and that their votes will be counted.

But this hearing wasn’t really about the voters of Richland County, was it?  If it had been, members of the legislative delegation wouldn’t have been forced to “sign-up” like school kids, just to ask questions of the Director and Commissioner. What’s the purpose of having a “legislative fact-finding” hearing if legislators can’t ask probing questions?  Why would any legislator be chastised for suggesting, as I did, that the delegation also give the public/voters an opportunity to be heard?

Yesterday’s meeting seemed to be more about confusing or minimizing the facts, rather than “finding” them.  Like many of you, I don’t think they were ever “lost.”  And although I’m one of the delegation’s newest members, I don’t need permission to host a public hearing in my District.  I’ve already hosted several in the 2 years I’ve served and will host more over the next 2 years.

But this Election Day disaster was not unique to House District 79.  In fact, every Richland County voter was impacted.  So I simply argued that our legislative delegation should want to hear from every voter who wants to be heard.  After all, we’re elected to represent you, so shouldn’t you be an integral and important part of this so-called fact-finding mission?

This is not about “throwing the Director (or anyone else) under the bus.”  It’s about holding those responsible for this debacle, accountable.  And even more importantly, it’s about the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of voters across Richland County who faced unprecedented and unnecessary impediments while trying to cast their ballots. It’s about the Richland County voters who were disenfranchised and denied their fundamental rights on that day.

Maybe some of my colleagues in the delegation didn’t witness the devastation of voters who were disenfranchised on Nov. 6th, but I did.  And I’ll never forget it.

After 20 days, we’re left with more questions than answers, more apologies, more confusion and more blaming.  And yet, there’s no accountability and admittedly, no plan for moving forward.

That does absolutely nothing to restore my confidence in the county’s election commission leaders or its electoral process.  So tell me…what does it do for yours?

Sounds like Rep. Garrick has a problem with delegation chairman Darrell Jackson, among others.

I agree that it’s absurd that we are still waiting for satisfactory answers as to how this happened, and more importantly, how it will be avoided in the future.

Keep watching, folks. This is what it’s like when a legislative delegation — an entity made up of people who were elected individually and separately for an entirely different purpose — tries to run something. Accountability is well-nigh impossible.

‘Lincoln’ is one of those rare films you really must see

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The nitty-gritty of greatness.

Over the weekend, I experienced the polar opposites of cinematic achievement: First, AT&T was having a free weekend for premium channels, and while I recorded a number of films I expect to enjoy, one of those channels also showed David Lynch’s execrable “Dune.” I had not watched it since that bitterly disappointing night in 1984 in a Jackson, TN, theater when it first came out. Those few minutes I watched over the weekend convinced me that it wasn’t just that my expectations had been so high at the time. This actually was the worst film I’ve ever seen in my life. Every line of dialogue, every visual touch, every gratuitous plot change from the book (“weirding modules”? Are you kidding me?), was so bad it had to be as intentional as those revolting pustules the make-up people put all over the Baron Harkonnen’s face (something else that wasn’t in the book). Every aspect of it was horrible.

So it was very nice, Sunday evening, to wipe that away by seeing one of the finest new motion pictures I’ve seen in years: “Lincoln.”

Everyone should see this. Every American should, anyway, because it tells so much about who we are and what led to our being what we are. And it tells us something I think we’ve forgotten, which is that great things can be accomplished through our system of representative democracy, even when the barriers and stakes are far greater than anything we face in Washington today.

I could go on and on about the way Daniel Day Lewis inhabits Abraham Lincoln and eerily embodies everything I’ve read about him, or how Spielberg has honed his craft to the very limits of film’s ability to tell a coherent story, while simultaneously making you feel like you’re looking through a time portal at the actual events.

But I’ll just zero in on one thing that contributed to making it so good: The political realism. Most specifically, the way the film not only avoids the temptation to make everything appear to be morally black or white, but rubs your nose in the messiness of real decisions made in a real world.

The main narrative has to do with Lincoln, after his second inauguration, pulling out all the stops to get the House to pass the 13th Amendment, which made slavery unconstitutional. To get the two-thirds, he needs at least 20 more votes even if every Republican supports the measure. This means not only peeling off some Democrats, each defection like pulling teeth out of a dragon, but somehow keeping the peace among the radicals (such as Thaddeus Stevens, played by Tommy Lee Jones) and conservatives (such as Preston Blair, played by Hal Holbrook) in his own party.

Every stratagem is used, starting with the hiring of some sleazy political operatives (I was amazed to realize after I saw the film that that was James Spader playing lobbyist W.N. Bilbo) to employ every trick they can come up with, starting with raw political patronage and moving on from there. (A key part of the strategy involved offering jobs in the second Lincoln administration to lame-duck members of the other party who had just lost their bids for re-election, but not left office yet.) The Lincoln team even stoops to a half-truth — told by Honest Abe himself — at a critical moment to keep the coalition from blowing up.

It’s very, very messy. No plaster saints here, and feet of clay all over the place. Yet through it all, the ultimate nobility of what is being done, in spite of all the odds, shines through irresistibly. We see how politics, with all its warts, can accomplish magnificent things. At a moment when Democrats and Republicans can’t even seem to do a simple thing like keep from going over a “fiscal cliff” with their hands around each others’ throats, we see how politicians (and they evince all of the worst things we think of when we use that term) can accomplish something great, even when (or perhaps, because?) the stakes are so much greater.

This film not only doesn’t flinch at moral complexity; it wallows in it, to wonderful effect. An excellent example is the scene in which Lincoln muses aloud before his team about all the convoluted, mutually contradictory, logical and constitutional boxes he put himself and the nation in when he decided to issue the Emancipation Proclamation. And the tension builds as we come to fully understand why the Amendment — which would fulfill the dream of freedom that the Proclamation could not — must be passed NOW, before the war ended. And we share Lincoln’s intense, focused urgency.

No significant aspect of Lincoln’s public character is missing from this portrait, including the delight that both he and his audiences took in his jokes. (But not all the people all of the time — Secretary of War Edwin Stanton storms out rather than listen to a funny story at a tense moment.) And at the end, after all the deal-making and maneuvering and fiddling and pushing and pulling and playing to venality and petty egos — one is left believing that Abraham Lincoln was a greater man than any marble statue could ever convey. I don’t know how to explain to you how the film achieves that; it just does.

I suppose there will be some people who just don’t get it — black-and-white, concrete thinkers who will be disturbed at the honest portayal of the messiness of politics as it was practiced in 1865. The neo-Confederates who think the Lincoln would originally have kept slavery if he could preserve the Union is some sort of great “gotcha” won’t get it. Nor will those like the local political activist who, a few days ago, said on Facebook that “Lincoln was not a good man” because his attitudes about racial equality weren’t a perfect match for those of a 21st-century “progressive.”

But seeing “Lincoln” may be among the best chances they’ll ever have to see that reality is broader, and often more inspiring, than their narrow perspectives on it.

No-holds-barred 19th-century lobbying in all its grubby glory.

Graham may not vote against Rice for SecState

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I thought this was interesting. After several days of being the point man on criticism of Ambassador Susan Rice, one might think (by the news coverage) that at the very least, Lindsey Graham would vote against confirming her were she nominated for secretary of state.

Well, on “Meet the Press” Sunday, he kept up the heat on the ambassador, but refused to say he’d vote against her:

GREGORY:  Senator, can Susan Rice– can Susan Rice be confirmed of Secretary of State if nominated by the president?

SEN. GRAHAM:  I– I don’t know.  You know, I’m deferential to the president’s picks.  I voted for Kagan and Sotomayor.  President, oh– Senator Obama voted against John Bolton, Elido and Roberts.  He had a very high bar for confirmation.  I have a very low bar.  I’m going to listen to what Susan Rice has to say, put her entire record in context, but I’m not going to give her a plus for passing on a narrative…

GREGORY:  But your…

SEN. GRAHAM:  …that was misleading to the American people…

GREGORY:  You wouldn’t filibuster her nomination?

SEN. GRAHAM:  ….and whether she knew it was misleading or not.  I’m going to wait and see what the State Department’s review has, but I’m very disappointed in– Susan Rice…

That may sound, to people who like a simple, dichotomous, partisan world, to be be inconsistent. But it’s actually completely consistent with the senator’s oft-expressed maxim that “elections have consequences” — which means you let the president have the people he chooses, barring some gross disqualification.

And bottom line, Graham indicated, it’s not Rice he really blames anyway. He seems mostly ticked that the administration put forward someone who didn’t know squat about Benghazi to speak publicly about it:

I’m saying that the ambassador that had nothing to do with Benghazi– why would you choose someone who had nothing to do with Benghazi to tell us about Benghazi?  That’s kind of odd.  The president said, why pick on her?  She didn’t know anything about Benghazi.  She was the most politically compliant person they could find. I don’t know what she knew but I know the story she told was misleading….

(W)hat about the months before this attack?  What about the rise of al Qaeda in Benghazi?  What about the British ambassador closing the consulate in Benghazi because it was too dangerous for the British?  What about the Red Cross leaving?  What about all of the warnings come out of Benghazi?  Did the CIA tell the president that Benghazi is falling into the hands of al Qaeda?  And I blame the president more than anybody else.  Susan Rice is a bit player here.  Was he– was he informed of the June attack on our consulate where they blew a hole where 40 people could go through?  Was he aware of the August 15th cable where Stevens was saying we can’t withstand a coordinated al Qaeda attack?  There are 10 militia groups all over Benghazi.  I blame the president for… making this a death trap.  I blame the president for not having assets available to help these people for eight hours…

Still, even with blaming the president, the Lindsey Graham who likes to work across the aisle asserts himself if Angry Graham lets his guard down for a moment:

I’m just not here to pick on the president.  I look forward to working with him on immigration and solving the fiscal cliff problems.  But I’m going to get to the bottom of Benghazi and hold him accountable for a national security breakdown…

He might find it’s tough to do both of those things, but we’ll see.

One other interesting thing from this interview was the senator’s musing on what’s wrong with his party:

We’re in a big hole.  We’re not getting out of it by comments like that.  When you’re in a hole, stop digging. … We’re in a death spiral with Hispanic voters because of rhetoric around immigration.  And candidate Romney and the primary dug the hole deeper.  You know, people can be on public assistance and scheme the system.  That’s real.  And these programs are teetering on bankruptcy.  But most people… on public assistance don’t have a character flaw.  They just have a tough life.  I want to create more jobs and the focus should be on how to create more jobs, not demonize those who find themselves in hard times…

The sound of authenticity

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I was really impressed to read about these details in Steven  Spielberg’s “Lincoln:”

That pure, unadulterated tick is the sound of an original watch that Lincoln carried.

“I heard the actual pocket watch existed,” Spielberg said in an interview with The Post, “and I wanted to know whether they’d let us wind it and record it. I didn’t know if they would, and they did. I thought that was very important. So, every time you hear that little ticking in the story, that’s Abraham Lincoln’s actual pocket watch.”

Spielberg dispatched a team to find other sounds that surrounded Lincoln in his final days. They collected the ring of the bell at the church Lincoln attended, the squeak of latches at the White House, the snatch of Lincoln’s carriage door, the weight of boots as a weary Lincoln walked through the White House, the creak of a seat from which he rose…

Wow. Very cool.

Reminds me of a story I heard about “Mad Men.” The cousin or nephew or something of one of my wife’s best friends had a bit part in the opening episode of last season. Remember when some young white jerks from a rival agency were dropping bags full of water on civil rights demonstrators down on the street? He was one of the young white jerks. Anyway, the interesting thing was the way they impressed upon him that he must not, under any circumstances, spill the water on any of the props in the office set. Because everything, down to the paper clips, was authentic, real like-new items from the mid-60s.

But these sound details seem to go beyond that. Too bad I’m losing my hearing.

Looking forward to seeing “Lincoln,” but I want to finish reading Team of Rivals first. I’m only a couple of hundred pages into it so far…

Is ‘The Walking Dead’ about today’s economy?

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Just another sunny day in the New Normal.

Late last night, in a fit of despond, I Tweeted the following:

Call me a pessimist if you will, but I must confess to a sinking feeling that things are not going to get better on “The Walking Dead”…

I mean, have you been watching this show lately? We thought things were as bad as they could get in the very first episode of the first season, but now? It’s almost like the makers of the show are daring us each week to keep watching. Recently on Netflix, I called up an episode from the first season — the one in which the survivors find temporary refuge at the CDC — and I was struck by how clean and relaxed and sane everyone was, even before they got access to the hot showers. Over the next two seasons, you can observe the decline of hope in the characters along with the layers of dirt and dried zombie blood encrusted on them.

Rick's just not inspiring a lot of confidence these days.

This show raises a lot of questions. For instance — if the only “life” in walkers (as demonstrated by the researcher at the CDC) was a trickle of activity at the very base of the brain, then how come a blow to anywhere on the head will put them down? Looked to me like the target area would be about the size of a walnut, and well shielded. And once you suspend your belief enough to ignore that, how are we to believe that humans with no firearms experience before the zombie apocalypse can hit a moving walker in the head at forty yards with a pistol, every time? That would be a toughie for the members of Seal Team 6, I  suspect.

But set all that aside, and let me get to my epiphany. Last night, as I looked on Deputy Rick covered in zombie mess, sitting there on the floor of the prison out of his mind with grief over the loss of someone dear to him, I got this sinking feeling that nothing was ever going to get better. Based, you know, sort of in the fact that this is the third season, and nothing ever DOES get better. Everybody was just going to keep scraping by, day to day, adjusting as well as they can to this new reality that seemed permanent…

And it hit me how much that felt like our economic situation since September 2008 (the show premiered in 2010, as we were realizing that our economic woes were the New Normal, and not a short-term thing). Only without everybody being covered in zombie  blood.

Is that what it’s about? Does that cause us to identify with these people enough to keep watching? Does it cheer us up, because unemployment and underemployment aren’t nearly that bad? Are the choices presented to the characters like our political choices? Is “the Governor” supposed to be Mitt Romney, presenting an idyllic suburban Republican sort of vision of what life could be? Deputy Rick seems to have the same pitch for holding on to leadership that President Obama used: No, I haven’t led you out of this, but without my leadership, things would have been worse.

Maybe not. But I’m trying to come up with a socially-redeeming excuse for why I keep watching. Because I do, and will. Right now, I can’t wait to find out who was on the other end of that ringing rotary-dial phone…

And I’m supposed to believe this kid can hit a moving walker in the head, at 50 feet, from a tower, with a pistol as big as he is?