I thought that I'd never get back to my Guide to Being Cultivated! But, with the New Year rolling around, why not rehash it? Here are some Scandinavians that you absolutely must become familiar with in your lifetime:
August Strindberg: One of the great playwrights of modernism, Strindberg's work still perplexes, frustrates, and provokes the contemporary theatregoer. A personal favorite is The Father, in which the anonymity of the womb efaces masculine identity and drowns it in a river of invisible others.
Henrik Ibsen: I've said before that I think A Doll's House is fairly overrated, but there's no denying the power of Ghosts or Peer Gynt. One should make up their own mind about Ibsen, which is fairly easy since his works are constantly performed.
Knut Hmasun: His Nazi sympathies and the declining quality of his later works have long overshadowed the great novels that he wrote. But, Hunger and Wayfarers are two of the great novels of the twentieth century.
Ingmar Bergman: Arguably the greatest filmmaker of all time, Bergman has at least fifteen films that could be considered masterpieces. The easiest of these to start with is Wild Strawberries. His most difficult (But one of my favorite films of all time) is Persona.
Søren Aabye Kierkegaard: Quite a bit of conversation between these fellows, isn't there? Bergman's films deal with several of the same themes (dread, faith, and the thin line between the two) as do Kierkegaard's treatises, and 'Persona' is essentially a reworking of Strindberg's 'A Dream Play'. There must be something about the bracing Northern air that gets people struggling with the nature of existence in their work! I don't expect this to be touted in any of the tourism adverts. Kierkegaard is sniffed at in quite a few philosophy departments; but his stuff still terrifies me. I mean that as a compliment.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
I thought that I'd never get back to my Guide to Being Cultivated! But, with the New Year rolling around, why not rehash it? Here are some Scandinavians that you absolutely must become familiar with in your lifetime:
The caste system has survived for about 1,500 years in Indian culture. The ranks of Hindu society originate, according to legend, from the main groups, or varnas, that emerged from a primordial being. From the mouth, emerged the Brahmans- the priests or teachers. The arms of the being became the Kshatriyas- the rulers and soldiers. The thighs became the Vaisyas- merchants and traders. Lastly, the laborers, or Sudras came from the feet of the being. The Untouchables, or Dalits (or Achutas, or Mahars), make up a fifth group that the primordial being does not claim. They literally do not belong to the general body of humanity in Hindu belief.
The Untouchables, to this day, perform the work that Indians consider 'unclean'. Usually this means any work that requires contact with blood, excrement, and other bodily 'defilements', as defined by Hindu law. Most aspects of daily life and behavior are set down in the Law of Manu, a text compiled 2,000 years ago by Brahman priests. The caste system is formally outlawed in India; since 80% of Indians are Hindus, it still persists.
Mahatma Gandhi (a Vaisya) naturally opposed the situation for Untouchables, without taking the natural next step of opposing caste itself. He rechristened them "Harijans" or "children of God" and toured the subcontinent in 1933 agitating for their rights. He also adopted an Untouchable daughter. However, Untouchables note that Gandhi ultimately upheld the orthodoxy of the caste system.
Bhimo Ramji Ambedkar: (Pictured) Untouchable hero, who drafted the Indian constitution, wrote several books, and founded the first Untouchable political party. He was outspoken and controversial; in one case, burning a copy of The Laws of Manu during a public protest. Unlike Gandhi, Ambedhar felt that the religious underpinnings of civil life in India should be done away with. Gandhi objected on religious grounds. For some time, the relative merits of Ambedkar versus Gandhi were debated in India.
Things have improved greatly for Untouchables since the days that they could be beaten to death for touching a higher caste member (or casting a shadow upon them in some cases). Today they are represented in the Indian Parliament and in equal opportunity laws. However, they are still socially separated, shunned, relegated to 'unclean' work, and often attacked for openly defying the caste system. Violence against Dalits is still common. The Untouchable status has been called the strongest racist structure in the modern world. Without taking account of skin color or genetics, the status brands millions of Indians as lower than the rest of humanity from birth. The status, and the caste system itself, has no place in the modern world.
With some fanfare, the entertainment industry announced 'the death of the DVD' this year- a big surprise for those of us who didn't even know that the DVD was sick. Happily, reports of the DVD's death have been greatly exaggerated, with millions of people still buying them, instead of Blu- Ray DVDs or High Definition DVDs or whatever crap the industry is currently trying to shove down the throats of consumers through the usual planned obsolescence.
Ideally, the way the market works is that it's driven and responsive to the demands of consumers. So, if a great majority of us want DVDs, they manufacture DVDs. Unfortunately, they figured out some years back that they could make more money by telling us what it is that we want- manufacturing our desires- and giving us no choice in the matter. So, if ten percent of us are the sort of schmucks who are buying higher priced Blu-Ray DVDs, they announce with great fanfare that DVDs are dead and the rest of us had better get with the times. They do this all of the time.
Take albums for example. When the industry brought out CDs, they announced that the LP was dead, long before the damand for albums had actually dried up. Then they gave those of us who still bought LPs a guilt trip for being Luddites. "Come on! This is the twentieth century! Throw out that crappy record player and buy CDs! Listen to the incredible clarity of CDs! They're so much better than your stupid LPs!" Then to give the schmucks the impression that demand for LPs really had dried up, they just stopped manufacturing them, and kept the 'clarity' hyperbole coming.
The buzzword is always 'clarity'. You're supposed to feel deficient if you can't actually hear or see this clarity. The difference between VHS and DVD was supposedly in the incredible 'clarity' of DVDs. As a test, I recently rented a film on DVD that I own on video and played them back to back. Want to guess what happened? They both looked exactly as sharp and clear as each other. I suppose that video tape gets old and rots eventually and DVDs don't. So, there is that. I mean, I would hate to think that all of those people who threw out their videos for DVDs were just a bunch of tools.
And actually the LPs I own sound better than the CD versions; they sound warmer and fuller because they play an analog wave. The digital wave of CDs, which supposedly replicates the analog wave, actually leaves out certain sounds, and has holes where the computer cannot quite replicate the analog wave. Record collectors go on about this all the time, but it's true. Listen to The Cramps' "Songs the Lord Taught Us" on the original LP and then on the CD and see which one sounds more like you're listening to a rock band.
I don't think most shoppers really care one way or the other about such things. They just want to buy things. I have this horrible suspicion that there are people my age who spend most of their free time buying shit. They don't have much to say, aside from telling you what shit they've bought, and they're painfully boring otherwise. They seem to go out buying shit three or four times a week, and for no real purpose. I think it's good for them to feel like they're keeping up with the times and getting better quality each time, but they're really just maxing out their credit cards to keep buying shit. Those are the sorts of putzes who need Blu-Ray DVDs or Blackberries, or whatever other stupid bauble is for sale this week.
And the industry feeds them overhyped rehashes of the same old shit in a constant spiral of meaninglessness. There is a more than obvious similarity here with academic programs that ride the latest wave of intellectual hyperbole (politcal uses of space, discourses of gender, Atlantic studies) to sell products that even they don't have any idea what they do anymore. Let the buyer beware.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I've had this fucking song stuck in my head for twenty years now! They used to run this commercial all the time when I was a kid. I know it's destroyed some part of my long term memory- I just know it.
1. The source of a running joke on the Simpsons, C.H.U.D. stands for "Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller".
2. If you were to base your judgment on 1980s exploitation movies, you'd think that NYC is a semi-apocalyptic nightmare of crime, prostitution, drugs, and violence. CHUD is no exception to this rule.
3. It's interesting how prevalent the homeless are in this film. You see them quite often in 1980s American films, although rarely in 1970s films, or films after the 1980s. This suggests that they were a big part of the mental landscape in the Reagan era, which is how I remember it.
4. Also the CHUDs are mutants who have been created by toxic waste- another huge obsession in the 1980s. (same with Acid Rain) Maybe we'll get global warming monsters in future films.
5. The acting is better than I expected in this movie. Daniel Stern is quite good and John Goodman has a nice cameo role. John Heard is decent. Of course, some of the lines are silly, so that might skew my take on the acting.
6. I like that the two homeless buddies who live underground are named Victor and Hugo. It's a witty reference and I like that the movie, for as ridiculous as it is, never goes for any over-the-top jokes. It's played straight, unlike the abyssmal sequel CHUD II: Bud the CHUD.
7. The makeup effects are the real highlight though. The craftsmanship of those John Caglione monsters is incredible, and I was amazed at how realistic the severed head that Ed French created was. Even in close-ups, that thing looks real. All of this would be done with computers now, and we'd have lost the artistry of those effects. When you see the amount of work that went into traditional effects- particuarly matte paintings and prosthetic effects, it's just unbelievable.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Kate Millett’s 1969 work of literary study and feminist theory aims at explaining how misogynous social relations poison sexual relations in reality and in literature. In other words, Millett expands the field of struggle to the bedroom and leaves the bodies of D.H. Lawrence, Sigmund Freud, Henry Miller, and Norman Mailer in her wake. Actually, that’s not fair; most of her shots leave mere flesh wounds: for example, she doesn’t really deal with Freud seriously enough to call him “the strongest individual counterrevolutionary force in the ideology of sexual politics in the era” with any real authority. (241) And yet she does.
Most of her portraits of writers and thinkers reduce them to strategic positions on a chess board- were they feminist or anti-feminist? Were they revolutionary or counterrevolutionary? You’re either with us or you’re against us. To reduce the dream world of fiction to political parrying is painfully middlebrow and results in tone-deaf sentences like: “Ibsen’s Nora Helmer is the true insurrectionary of the sexual revolution; Salomé a retreat into archaic slanderous accusation, that symbolic emptiness that predicts the counterrevolution.” (213) What’s amazing about this sentence, for me, is how perfectly it encapsulates a take on these plays that is the exact opposite of my own. My belief: a bourgeois dish towel like Nora Helmer threatens no one, while Salomé still boogies through the nightmares of the civilized.
The worst part about all of this is the ugly idea that literary criticism can be reduced to party allegiances- who cares about an author’s use of language, creative insights, or depth of psychological understanding?! What really matters is whether or not they’re down with the revolution, baby! The most interesting idea here- that it is not possible to have politically neutral sex- is overshadowed by a literary analysis that doesn’t even seem to understand the difference between fiction and autobiography.
So, I think we need to separate the political argument from the literary one here. The political argument as I see it, is that the patriarchal family structure is the basis for all other hierarchal structures in civilization and so has to go. Moreover, patriarchy manifests itself in sex, which has to be dealt with, as well as in literature. Millet draws a surprising amount from Wilhelm Reich, which might serve to date this as a late 60s text. All of these arguments are interesting to me, if only because they're so at odds with the weak willed equivocation that seems to be the case in gender relations today. The fact that a 1950s gender stereotype like Jessica Simpson could be treated as a sex symbol should be cause for some alarm.
But, it's not entirely possible for me to tell if Norman Mailer was dissecting patriarchal sexuality, or championing it- probably a bit of both. And even if we agree that Mailer was a sexual reactionary, what are we to make of D.H. Lawrence? Can we really make him out to be a Jungian version of Archie Bunker, as Millet does? And it's much more difficult to get at the core of Henry Miller for me than it is for Kate Millet. There's something troubling about how quick feminist critics have been to dismiss writers like D.H. Lawrence and Henry Miller who are, at least, challenging, if not egalitarian. Millet wrestles with them in a way that seems daring and challenging itself- but, she has to ignore a lot about their work in order to enlist them on the side of Patriarchy in a war that they might not have seen themselves as taking part in. Henry Miller's expressions of wounded masculinity over his chronically unfaithful wife cannot be reduced to a position in the struggle for women's liberation, even if they unsettle us.
At some point, literature has to be taken seriously as literature, and not as political work, or a Rorschach test of its author. Any number of critics since the late 60s have taken the same shortcut as Millet does in reducing art to agitprop, and at no small expense to our culture's sense of the value of art for its own sake.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
From my dreary ramblings on this blog, one might think that my teaching style is something akin to the main character on the show House (one of Claire's favorites), or a somber German philologist. In reality, I am very goofy when I lecture, and highly animated. Often I am covered in sweat when I get done. Increasingly, I have been bucking the trend for playing 'learned and ironically dismissive' in academia and lecturing in an over-the-top and exuberant way. I'm turning into Auntie Mame.
I think we all need to emulate Auntie Mame at times. Universities like mine are full of grouches. They sort of perfect a dismissive pose. The undergrads come in with a naive contempt for culture and perfect it over four years. A Freshman will complain about having to learn about any art; but by the time they reach Senior year, they've learned to cuss only the art of 'dead, white males'. Then, in graduate school, they write a thesis about some specific dead white male whose poetry reveals that he was a rapist. After that, they go on to teach seminars on "Images of the Other in Colonial Narratives" or some other such dreary thing.
Add to it the fact that I'm teaching in an American city that God has forgotten, at least weather-wise (eight months of grey skies per year), and you can see why coming to class whistling a song starts to feel like a revolutionary act. Come in and wax rapturous about Mozart and you look like a loon. But, damn, it's fun! One of my favorite lectures to give begins like this:
"Your textbook tells you that 'we must remember that the Renaissance artists did not care about the poor or middle classes. They were only concerned with the wealthy and powerful.' (Pause)... And so what! Why do we always think that art has to make the world a better place? Isn't the overwhelming, the mentally and spiritually elevating beauty of Michaelangelo's David enough? Is Michaelangelo deficient because he didn't have a 'social conscience'? Can you actually call his David deficient?"
And then I'm spinning around the room again, trying to express my idea of greatness through history. There's a real fear of discussing greatness in the classroom. It seems arrogant and elitist somehow. But Massachio and Coleridge are part of an elite. They are gifted with genius, and my role, if I have any, is to develop the sort of beings whose souls can be open to Massachio and Coleridge. So, I'm learning to gush and giggle and have a good time in class. In fact, it's probably the best time I have all week.
And I think this is something that we need to do. Because teaching someone to appreciate greatness will allow them to live fully, and people don't live fully anymore. Teaching them social justice is fine; but an awareness of social justice comes naturally to those who live adamantly- a great soul is innately just. A being who is happy and adamantly free is not vindictive or racist or mysognyist or any of the rest of it. Despair is counterrevolutionary! But making ironic comments in lecture like: "Well, the Founding Fathers said that all men are created equal. Do you think they meant blacks too?" in a sardonic tone (and God have I seen that done a million times!) doesn't do anything but comfort teenagers in their conviction that the world sucks. Which isn't hard really.
And I love the world. It doesn't suck, or at least, it doesn't have to. So let's be a bit more ecstatic, shall we? As Her Holiness Auntie Mame (blessed be her name!) said: "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!"
Surprise! Religious groups are upset about the upcoming release of Dimension Pictures remake of Black Christmas, a movie about a killer at Christmas. There are actually quite a few movies about Killer Santas, or killers at Christmas. When I was a kid, back in 1984, religious groups protested th release of Silent Night, Deadly Night, a mediocre Killer Santa film. Admittedly though, it is far better than its sequel, and has some amusing touches, like a kid who is decapitated while sledding! Black Christmas, which was shot at the University of Toronto in the 1970s, is one of the best, although my favorite is still Christmas Evil. I used to have a marathon of Santa Slasher films with my friends each year. You'd be amazed at how cathartic it is after a few weeks of holiday shopping. Also, it's my way of doing my part to support the War on Christmas!
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Here I sit, surrounded by stapled stacks of paper strewn around the room like the dead and wounded on some bloody battlefield. I suppose that makes me one of the survivors! I've done my part to defend America from grammatical terrorism and Wikistudying. From where the sun now stands, I will grade no more forever.
Or, at least, not tonight. My brain has threatened that, if I read one more sentence of undergraduate prose, it will cease to work and render me unfit for anything more complex than singing 'You are my sunshine' on street corners for the rest of my life. I've been grading for the last nine hours- so it's time to take a break and play with the cat. Have I mentioned that I've discovered that our cat Lola likes it when I sing to her? If I sing her "Rock-a-bye Baby", she stops what she's doing, starts purring very loudly, curls up in my lap, and goes to sleep. It's ridiculously adorable.
Anyway, the essays aren't terrible- only one plagiarized one so far. And I've rented John Carpenter's The Thing. So, I'm going to lay down my arms for tonight and get back to the battlefield tomorrow. Old graders never die, we just look that way some evenings.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Confused about your own Solar System? No need to be! Here's a handy guide to the new order of planets. The first thing to remember is that there are still eight of them- they've just changed a bit. Also, I've included the dwarf planets, including poor old Pluto, to let you know where they are. Here we go, moving away from the Sun:
1. Mercury: 3,032 miles in diameter. It takes about 56 earth days to rotate once on its axis.
2. Venus: 7,521 miles in diameter. It takes 243 earth days to rotate once on its axis.
3. Earth: You are here. 7,926 miles in diameter. It takes 23.9 hours to rotate on its axis.
4. Mars: So far, so good. Mars is 4,266 miles in diameter & takes a day to rotate on its axis.
Ceres (dwarf planet): 602 miles in diameter, and takes 9 hours to rotate on its axis.
5. Jupiter: Big Mamma- 88,846 miles in diameter, making it the largest planet in our soular system, and it takes 11.9 hours to rotate on its axis.
6. Saturn: Also big- 74,898 miles in diameter. Its day is 10.7 hours and it has 56 moons. Its distinctive rings may be shattered ice or remnants of moons brought into its orbit.
7. Uranus: 31,764 miles in diameter and takes 17.2 hours to rotate on its axis. It is blue because of the methane in its atmosphere. (I will refrain from making the obvious joke here)
8. Neptune: 30,766 miles in diameter, and its day is 16.1 hours. Like other giant planets, with the exception of Uranus, it generates great internal heat. This internal heat generates intense weather, including storms whose winds top out at 900 miles/hour.
Pluto (dwarf planet)
Eris (dwarf planet)
This week, while people are generally miserable about having to run around and finish Christmas shopping, I am longing for the sweet release of being shoved around by smelly strangers in the Mall. Instead, I am slogging through final grading for the semester, an experience that I find more accutely painful than anything else I do all year- including the dental work I had done a few weeks ago! By the end of grading week, I look like the hollow-eyed and shell-shocked soldiers in old WWI paintings. You know how they say that 'prison changes a man'? For me, grading is a bit like that.
Do I exaggerate? Maybe a little. But, grading is a bit like the slow torture of watching a loved one being beaten to death. You call that exaggerating? Such words wound me! People who accuse me of exaggerating my pain might as well be shoving hot needles into my eyes! Anway...
Grading is horrible for me because I'm often grading essays, and one rule about the undergrad essay is that it's 10% facts and 90% talking out of one's own ass. For some reason that I can't possibly comprehend, when undergrads don't know very much about a topic, they make the one thing they do know out to be hugely significant. Instead of playing it cool, they write things like: "The invention of the Yale lock by Linus Yale Jr. in 1860 was the most important thing that ever happened in world history. It totally changed the way people thought of the world." And they go on like that for the next two pages.
In general, my problem is twofold- on one hand, my standards are extremely high. Truth be told, I only had two final exams this time that I think should have been above a C, and a great number that I think should have failed. Even the ones that had a good number of pertinent facts in them demonstrated so little understanding of those facts that they might as well have been reciting the flag pledge in Swahili. The parrot says what he knows; but he does not know what he says.
In contrast to my high standards is my deep, dark secret- I really like these students as people. When I read an essay by the kid who has been struggling all semester long to understand history, it's incredibly hard for me to be as hard on him as the whiz kid who got straight As. Conversely, with the straight A kid, it's hard for me to accept that he didn't get an A on the final. In general, I want all of the students to do well. I'm rooting for them.
This makes it accutely painful when I read stupid crap from them. It's painful because my standards are so high, and I'm constantly questioning myself on that, and also because I strongly believe that they can do better. But, they usually don't. Usually I get about ten really strong essays and 40 essays in which people are talking out of their ass. By the time I've graded the first fifteen or so, I want to lock them in a safe, drop it to the bottom of the ocean, get drunk, and be alone for a while! (God, I'm such a drama queen!)
Anyway, I inevitably end up giving them the benefit of the doubt. I try not to inflate the grades, and generally I don't- although often the professor will do it for me!- but, I also try not to forget that they're 18, and don't care about this stuff, and are stressed out, and low on time. (And in my darkest hours, I admit to myself that there are more of them than I like to admit that should not be in a university.)
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Nathan Rabin has a request for documentary filmmakers: Stop appearing in your films already! He ties this weird practice back to Michael Moore, although it might also come from 60 Minutes or Candid Camera (seemingly two influences on Moore himself). Lately, documentarians haven't just been asking questions from off-camera; they've given themselves central roles in their films, often staging outlandish stunts in the vein of Jackass to critique capitalism, or get attention- whichever works better.
On one hand, I'm thrilled to see so many documentaries coming out. I love a good documentary, especially when it's about something that I have no knowledge of, or a part of the world that I've never seen. A great documentary can achieve a level of honesty that few films reach.
On the other hand, I haven't got a lot of interest in seeing the recent wave of muckraking documentaries. It's not that I worry about their factual accuracy, because after all, I adore the documentaries that Herzog has done, knowing that he often stages scenes in them. Also, the complaints that people make about the Muckumentaries often seem quibbling. I don't honestly care if Michael Moore editted his shots out of chronological order or not. Actually, I don't honestly care about Michael Moore one way or the other.
What bothers me about the documentaries of Moore's epigoni is that I already know what they're going to say before I rent them. I tend not to read books whose argument I can guess from the title. It seems like there are a lot of documentaries that I can pretty much take a guess on. "Super Size Me" likely makes the argument that McDonald's sucks. "This Film is Not Yet Rated" probably argues that the MPAA sucks. "Wall Mart: The High Cost of Low Prices"- I'm guessing it argues that Wall-Mart sucks. I did actually see "The Corporation", and yep- it argues that Corporations suck.
I mean, I'm all for letting people make these Bitchumentaries; but, for God's sake, isn't there more to human experience than 'the take down'? A lot of times I feel like we've forgotten how to live, but have no ability to conceptualize dying. There's something that plays like lousy Beckett in our obsessive need to construct bullet points about our daily annoyances, with little to no understanding of the reality beyond and outside of those annoyances.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Our department didn't hire any new people for about a decade, so we've been hiring them right and left for the last few years. What this means is that I've seen an ungodly number of job talks by potential hires. A job talk is when an academic who is applying for a position in a department comes to that department and reads a sample of his or her research, usually a short essay or chapter from their manuscript. They come to town, get shown around the campus, meet with everyone, usually get a dinner and hotel room, read their work, and then leave. After we've gone through a few hundred applications, we boil them down to three or four potential hires, and that's who goes through the job talk process.
The grad students are asked what we think of the applicants, although honestly, our opinion really doesn't matter to the hiring committee. But, we're supposed to meet with them for an hour and get an idea of how it would be to work with them, and then show up for their talk. Usually, the PhDs show up for the meeting with the applicant and the Master's and PhD students show up for the job talk. This is because the Master's students are required by the department to come to the job talks, and frankly most of them won't take a piss if they don't think it's a requirement to get their degree!
Anyway, this time around, I seem to be in disagreement with most of the other grad students on the applicants. Basically, the guy they all like, I'm not too thrilled with, and the guy they hate, I think should probably be hired. The job is for a professor and director of an interdisciplinary department that I won't name, but will say that it's one of the few 'studies' that seems totally legitimate to me.
The problem they have with the guy that I like is that he seems like a bit of a prick. He was very cocky in his interview, and when asked why he wrote on the topic that he's dedicated his career to, told us at length about how well his books sell and how popular his courses are. So, he's in it for the money. And he's a bit full of himself. God's gift to academia.
So, the other grad students hate him. There seems to be a gender aspect to it too, because they're women, and they have all said that they don't want to work with a man who is so full of himself, as he's likely sexist. But, I don't really think that arrogant equals difficult to work with, and I don't think that difficult to work with equals sexist. In fact, I'm not really concerned with the interpersonal dynamic of the department at all, and that might be a gender thing as well. I just think his scholarship and his ideas for the department are better than the other fellow in line. Conversely, I think the other guy is nice enough, but his reasearch seems to have no point to it, no overarching context or theoretical model. He just studies what he studies and has very little to say about it.
It's strange this emphasis on 'getting along' and 'working together well'. Last year we had an applicant whose research was brilliant, but again, the grad students thought he was too full of himself. But, I guess we all know where I stand on pretension! So, I supported him based on the scholarship he did. Luckily, the committees aren't too worried about 'people skills' either and they hire based on the level of scholarship. So, basically, they seem to have gone with the same people as I have, and honestly, again, they don't really care what we think anyway.
But, I just find it strange to focus so much on interpersonal relationships. Most of us do our research alone, and if someone's not abusive or rude, I don't see why it matters if they're likeable or not.
The movie Silent Hill is aptly named I've discovered. It's at least a step closer to a return to the silent films. When I watched the film on mute while playing a CD, I found that I was perfectly able to keep up with the storyline, or at least, no more confused than when I watched it with the sound.
This isn't a criticism either. I think that these CGI extravaganzas are becoming pure cinema- fantastic images with no roots in human reality. Because American films are increasingly shot for the 'international market', they're getting shorter on dialogue. For entire stretches of this film, there are no lines, aside from one character calling out another's name. The idea, as far as I can tell, is that these sorts of films are easier to dub. So, there is little dialogue, and the characters are paper-thin, and there are incredible visuals derived from comic books and video games- I would call this geniune silent filmmaking.
It seems a bit startling how disinterested contemporary filmgoers are in human beings. But, like anything else, I think it grates on me not because movies like this one get made, but because our video store doesn't get a lot of movies that aren't based in comic books or video games! I mean, let them eat Ultraviolet! But, I want to see the human face every once in a while. What I love about Ingmar Bergman is that he can reveal something about the human condition in a scene with a couple talking over the dinner table. I don't see many directors that can do that anymore.
But, if this is where films are going- purely disconnected and surreal images that can be valued for their craftsmanship alone- in spite of the fact that the storyline can be summed up as "Mother wants to save her daughter from ghouls"- well, then I'm not sure there isn't something worth watching here. Carol Spier's sets are incredible- she made the next town over from ours look totally abandonned- the special effects are astounding, and the overall look of the film is so textured that you feel like it's going to leave dust on your living room floor.
So, maybe these sorts of films should take the next step and do away with scripts altogether. A film like this doesn't seem like it needs the flimsy story that has been attached to it- the dream logic of the visuals should be enough. If people aren't interested in reality, don't weigh them down with it. These films shouldn't be scripted or even directed anymore- let the F/X people assemble them from their dreams and hallucinations.
So, I'm grading the final exams today, and I keep seeing the same strange mistake on them. When asked to describe 'the Renaissance man', over half of these students characterize him as, first and foremost, 'physically perfect', or 'very strong physique'. This seems really weird to me, because nothing I've ever read about the Renaissance suggested that its prime thinkers were hotties.
(Note: Picture of beefcake Leonardo DaVinci)
It could be that they're just really shallow. But, even worse, I'm guessing that their dumbass textbook told them this nonsense about the Renaissance artists pumping iron. So, now I have to comb through this godawful text once again to see if it has the passage 'Renaissance Men: Hot or Not?'
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Why are some men gay? Is it nature or nurture? Well, according to columnist Jim Rutz, it's soy. That's right, soy is a 'devil food' that is 'turning our kids into homosexuals' because it contains estrogen. "Soy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality." Of course you know that gay men don't actually measure as having higher estrogen levels than straight men (well, or smaller penises). And that gays predate soy milk by several centuries. And that there are plenty of lesbians who got soy milk as kids. But, Rutz doesn't know that. So, let him ramble. He's old and confused. And throw out that soy milk! If you want your baby boys to grow up crazy about dames, put something in their bottle that will turn 'em straight- like Budweiser.
After that last post, I've been thinking about not posting anything else about politics. I mean, what more can I say? Both sides claim to stand for all sorts of high ideals, but they use them largely as a pretext to enforce power, I hate state power, and therefore I disagree with just about everything they do. Pretty much sums it up. What else can I say about it?
Not much. For one last laugh, The Onion has totally nailed the Pinochet nostalgia thusly:
"At least he kept communism out of the country the only way a Fascist, bloodthirsty dictator could."
Okay, this is the last douche I call out for getting all misty-eyed about a man who 'disappeared' over 3,000 of his citizens after taking power from a democratically-elected government in a military coup. Jonah Goldberg on moral equivalence: "I think in the grand debate we can characterize as Pinochet V. Castro, Pinochet wins in a cake walk, as the late Jeane Kirkpatrick would surely agree." Heck of a contest, eh? We have to choose between Castro and Pinochet? Oh, and after we choose Pinochet, we can beat our chests about how much we love liberty. Okay, Jonah, Castro is a lot worse. Fidel Castro is a brutal dictator who has ruined Cuba, and who the world would be much better off without, and plenty of idiots love him. Which doesn't really change the fact that Pinochet was a brutal thug who should have been prosecuted, and plenty of idiots still love him. They both suck, and honestly, I don't believe the right or the left when they beat their chests about 'freedom' and 'democracy' any more.
The National Review is also waxing nostalgic about Pinochet. I'd forgotten how beloved he was by certain segments of the right for 'proving free market ideologies right', or some other such claptrap. Anthony Daniels explains: "The reason Augusto Pinochet was universally hated by leftists and many academics worldwide was not because he was so brutal or killed so many people, but because he was so successful." You really can't make up a quote like that. I'm guessing the flip side of this would be that he was loved by conservatives, in spite of the fact that he was so brutal and killed so many people, because he was so successful? It's great to think that the Geneva Conventions are being debated by these people, eh?
Monday, December 11, 2006
Chilean architect of state terror, Augusto Pinochet is dead at age 91, proving once again that only the good die young. Christopher Hitchens remembers that other 9/11: "His overthrow of civilian democracy, in the South American country in which it was most historically implanted, will always be remembered as one of the more shocking crimes of the 20th century." And Margaret Thatcher has said that she is 'greatly saddened' by the news of Pinochet's death (although it probably came out 'gweatwy saddened'), proving once again that Margaret Thatcher is a stupid cunt.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Well, Stephen Harper has declared that the issue of gay marriage is now closed in Canada. We have gay marriage, and it hasn't hurt anybody over the last year and a half, so please stop complaining. I griped that they were rehashing this non-issue to please the Christian nationalists in the states and Canada. But, even though it was political pandering, Harper played it well. He's made the religious groups happy by giving their complaints a day in court, and he's made those of us who live in the real world happy by telling them that the case is closed. He's more savvy than I thought.
Friday, December 08, 2006
One pretty interesting thing about this new David Lynch movie is the fact that he's distributing the movie entirely on his own, with no help from a major or an independent distributor. He's been moving towards this for a while- his company has been releasing short films and his early works on DVD through his website- but I think it says a lot about why he makes movies in a way that is applicable to my struggle against the word 'pretentious'.
There are two basic views of movies: one holds that movies are a form of art and the other holds that they are an entertainment medium. For some reason, people have trouble seeing eye-to-eye on this issue. The 'art' people tend to see mainstream blockbusters as banal and unchallenging, and the 'entertainment' people see more personal and impressionistic films as being 'pretentious' and 'self-indulgent'. However, if you see movies as entertainment, you're not looking to be 'challenged' by something like Finding Nemo, and if you see films as art, you expect a film-maker like David Lynch to be 'indulging' his own artistic inclinations.
For me, I absolutely love Finding Nemo, and I absolutely love Eraserhead; but for very different reasons. Finding Nemo is an expertly-crafted work of entertainment that succeeds in being funny, exciting, heartwarming, and all of the other things that I look for in entertainment films. Eraserhead is a film that challenged how I understood movies. The first time that I saw it, I hated it, frankly. But, a month later, I was having nightmares about its deeply disturbing images. So, I re-watched it, and realized how much the imagery, and even the structure of the film works on a subconcscious level in imitation of nightmares. I have no idea how David Lynch found this stuff in his own subconscious and brought it into the light; but I appreciate the film in a very different way than I do a work of entertainment.
So, Eraserhead isn't exactly entertaining, and it's definitely not heartwarming! And Finding Nemo isn't intellectually and artistically challenging. But, they're both fantastic movies. And I think the 'art' camp and the 'entertainment' camp could learn to broaden their horizons a bit. There are so many great cultural productions out there, and one of the things I love about writers like Dargis or Roger Ebert is that they take films on their own terms. This is a skill.
As for the word 'self-indulgent', it just doesn't hold up in the case of films that weren't really made solely for the entertainment of the audience- to get the most butts in the seats as they say. And the word 'pretentious' doesn't work at all for David Lynch- his vision is not a pretense and it's not in imitation of anyone else. It's singular. For me, the ideal "David Lynch scene" takes place in a very beautiful and banal environment and, during the scene we discover that something is very horribly wrong. And when I see scenes like that in movies now, I think: "Wow, this is just like David Lynch". But, he's one of our great artists because of his singularity and fanatical devotion to his own obsessions, and for that, he should command our respect.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
According to Andrew Sullivan, this essay by Manohla Dargis is the work of a "poseur". According to John Podhoretz, it is "the single most pretentious review, ever written, in any publication, anywhere, of anything."
Now, read the actual review in question. It's a mystery to me how exactly Dargis was supposed to critique a 179-minute non-linear, bafflingly surreal David Lynch movie and not talk above the level of the room. But, I've read this thing three times now, and I'm still amazed at how clearly she has expressed herself. She's dealing with the film on its level, and wrestling with its obscure meanings, and yet, she's still writing in a way that can be understood by an adult. And writing for adults is taken as being 'pretentious'.
I'm getting a bit tired of 'pretentious' being used as code for: 'Hey! Think the way we do, dammit!' There's this single patois, let's call it "Dudespeak", which seems to be rigidly imposed in our culture right now. It pretends to be democratic and populist (in fact, it assumes that pretense!); but really Dudespeak is authoritarian- it demands that we think and express ourselves in one and only one way. Don't ever speak or write in a way that requires people to pay attention and consider what you're saying, Dude. Don't think about things that require patience and consideration to understand, Dude. Don't use metaphors, Dude. Life should be simple, and anything complex is not worth considering, Dude. Understand the world the way we do, and the way we tell you to, or we will snark you down, Dude. Be trite, be simple, be 'unpretentious', Dude.
In other words, shut-up and get back in line, Dude.
Yesterday, I listened to a professor unspooling and laying out her despair over a plagiarism scandal in her 300-level history course. I mention this because there has been a lot of talk about plagiarism lately, and one of the tired arguments that gets trotted out year after year is something like: "Students cheat because the courses are so flimsy. If we returned to traditional academic standards, and inspired them, they wouldn't cheat." It's a strange argument in that it often made by conservatives, whose reasons for wanting more traditional academic standards are easy to fathom, and whose willingness to excuse lying, cheating, and stealing is baffling.
It's important in this case too, because I've been a visiting student in the class in question and it has been anything but flimsy. The history that has been assigned is top-notch, the literature that has been used to enrich that history is of world classic status, and the lectures have been witty, informative, and fascinating. I've literally found a dozen things that this Professor does that I plan to borrow in my own lectures. And yet, a quarter of the students plagiarised on their last essay.
It wasn't exactly a hard assignment: just one book was necessary to complete it, and the students could choose that book from a list. Previously, the Professor had required three books and extensive research to complete the assignment. This time she wanted close reading. Not to mention the fact that this was a 300-level course. And yet, a quarter of the students plagiarised on their essays.
When your students cheat, it hits you right in the gut. It's like an assault- the first thing I ever think is 'What did I do to deserve this?' Even though it's become so endemic that many of us expect it, I think we still go through the stages of grief.
1. DENIAL: They couldn't have really copied this from somewhere else. It reads as a bit overly professional; but I can't just assume that my student isn't smart enough to write at this level. What kind of cynic am I?
(This usually lasts until you get a second identical essay.)
2. ANGER: Goddammit! I didn't ask that much of them and they still lied to me! Don't they have the slightest shred of honesty? What is the matter with these fucking kids?!
3. BARGAINING: Okay, maybe they had a good reason here to copy this. Maybe they really didn't know that it was plagiarism. Let me read to the end, and maybe they'll start writing their own ideas. I'll call them to my office and have them explain it to me.
4. DEPRESSION: They did it because they just don't care about academics. They just don't care about being honest in an academic course because education means nothing to them. I might as well be a habberdasher for all my relevance in this world. Why do I care so much about these kids, and this culture, and education, when they look at me with contempt?
5. ACCEPTANCE: Okay, they cheated. But, not all of the kids cheated, and the ones that did cheat did so because of a failing on their part. It's not my fault that they're dishonest. It's not personal. They cheated. I'll flunk them. End of story.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Germaine Greer has administered the smack down to the Plain English Campaign, which awarded her the 'Golden Bull' award this year. Ideally, the award goes to those writers who use pointlessly confusing jargon. The Campaign is pushing for 'crystal clear English'. They had a problem with the following sentence by Greer:
'The first attribute of the art object is that it creates a discontinuity between itself and the unsynthesised manifold.'
They claim not to know what the unsynthesised manifold is, which is altogether likely, and blame Greer for being needlessly confusing. Greer's response is, basically, "look it up, dummies!" The concept of the unsynthesised manifold is commonplace in aesthetic criticism, and besides, there's no way to talk about the unsynthesised manifold and call it something else in plain English. As with a lot of Kant's ideas, once you absorb what he's talking about, you get why he's actually being as clear as possible. In other words, you can't just call it "the big shabang!"
So, her response is pretty amusing, and I think there is a big difference between pushing people to express their thoughts more clearly and pushing them to stick to thinking simpler things.
Monday, December 04, 2006
This is the time of the year that I generally get a little cranky. Up to my neck in unread books, shut in by the cold weather, and needing to relax, I get ultra critical about things that usually don't bother me. Like, for example, when CNN subtitles people who I have no trouble understanding! The other day, I got irritated by the new DVD section at our Video Store! By Christmas, I'll be a real bitch.
What I do for a living is not very social. This is an isolating profession. Reading is a solitary practice, and we do it for hours a day. The things that we love to talk about most people don't love to hear about. There aren't a lot of people in my daily life who would like to talk about Mediterranean trade in the 1800s for a few hours every day. We're like Trekkies really, largely isolated by our interests. When I go to seminars, I see people who come across as misanthropic during the working week light up. They're like idea junkies, huddled in their cold, dark seminar halls and getting their fix. But, after that, it's back to their closed offices.
There are a few interests that are generally widely accepted. Sports fans can always find other sports fans, for example. Talk about sex, alcohol, sports, or physical appearance and you're likely to find someone to shoot the breeze with. But, there are no 'History Bars', and even the History Channel is usually crap. And being as fragmented and hyper-specialized as academia is these days, there's no promise that even History scholars will have any ideas about what I study.
Even worse, you end up thinking in this way that is alienating to others all the time. Instead of being pragmatic, you become critical. Instead of being cut & dry, you obsess over nuances and try to make the nuances more confusing! Academics are often lonely people. I think that's why they complain so much about the 'dumbing down' of American culture. This is always a good way to strike up a conversation with them. Is American culture really any dumber than it used to be? I think American culture just plays dumb, probably to get laid. Is it any dumber than any other culture? Honestly, I have no idea.
But, catch me in about three weeks from now, and I'm guessing that I'll have some strong opinions about it.
At SUNY Buffalo, they have decided to dismantle their School of Informatics. Why? Well, read the article and tell me if it doesn't sound like nobody involved can explain just what 'Informatics' means. A member of the founding committee tried to describe it in the local newspaper:
"The study of informatics goes beyond the technical aspects of information technology and focuses on human interaction with information and information systems," wrote Jeff Carballada in a July 1, 2006 opinion piece in The Buffalo News. "As these systems become more complex, it is critical that we deepen our understanding of the societal implications of how information is disseminated and utilized."
Um, okay. But, unfortunately the heavy-handed Provost Satish Tripathi didn't understand what that means, and nobody could explain it to him.
"(Tripathi) had repeatedly refused to free up resources, indicating he was not ready to invest more in the school when he felt its focus was unclear," Penniman said. "He consistently rejected arguments regarding the broader definition of informatics that took us beyond the computing domain into a broader perspective of informatics."
It could perhaps be defined by its parts, but that was a problem too.
"The School of Informatics was originally conceived as constituting three departments and one school: Communication, Media Study, Computer Science and Engineering and Library Studies. Subsequently, two of the departments (Media Study and Computer Science and Engineering) declined to merge to establish the school." he said.
Okay, so Communication and Library Studies? They decided at first to "focus on the 'intersection of human communication and information processes'." But, that was apparently too vague, and Tripathi investigated the school, as he describes in managereese:
"As a result of the school's strategic planning process, I gained a broad and comprehensive perspective from the faculty as to the efficacy of the school and the ability of the school to develop intellectual — academic and scholarly — synergies between the (Departments of Communication and Library and Information Studies)."
Uh, okay. Academic synergies. Very important.
Anyway, Tripathi still didn't know what was going on here.
Says another member of the Founding Committee:
"Provost Tripathi was always questioning the program and how it fit in with fields like computer science," he said. "In my opinion, the provost just didn't get it."
Yeah, old man! You just don't understand us! We're the future and you just can't handle it!
Anyway, the Provost claims that he couldn't figure the school out, so he decided to dissolve it, which solves the problem, I guess. But, since nobody is losing a job, they say they will surivive:
"We were strong before the School of Informatics, I believe that we were strong during the School of Informatics, and I think that we'll be strong after the School of Informatics."
I've been watching more television than usual lately (well, more than just the Simpsons), and I've noticed something weird on CNN. Maybe this isn't new, but I don't remember them ever subtitling so many English speakers before. Every time they have on a documentary in which we hear a non-native speaker speaking English they use subtitles. I also noticed this in An Inconvenient Truth, the Al Gore documentary about the horrors of global warming and the glory of Al Gore. When Al was talking to two Chinese industrialists, both of whom were speaking very clear English, they were subtitled. It was actually sort of annoying because they were both so easy to understand. Granted, they had accents, but by that point, we'd been listening to Al Gore's accent for over an hour!
I mean, it doesn't exactly offend me because there are some people whose English really is hard to understand. But, doing it for everyone who has an accent annoys me because it's just another step in accomodating the lazy minds out there who can't be asked to pay attention to other people when they are speaking. "What? Listen to an accent? That's too hard for me! When's lunch? I'm tired!" These are the people who can't be bothered to put down their cell phone when they're in the line at the grocery store. It's really not so hard to listen closely while other people are speaking, even though it means making the slightest bit of effort. When did people become so incredibly lazy, so unwilling to think at an adult level, or behave as adults? And why do we have to accomodate the militantly stupid?