Dear Whoever Stole My Library Books and CD's From My Car

Dear Whoever Stole My Library Books and CD's From My Car,

I hope you enjoy the soundtrack to Rudy, and that you return David Rakoff's book of autobiographical essays, "Don't Get Too Comfortable," back to the library on-time. I probably wouldn't have, but, hey.

Sincerely,
Ben

"I can't just sit at home and do nothing..."

The deadly earthquake that hit China nearly a month ago continues to deeply affect a lot of people. Cartoonist Coco Wang has written and drawn some amazing sequential art, documenting real-life stories of hope and tragedy. Read the ongoing set at paulgravett.com.

Wang writes: "Thousands of heart-breaking stories are happening 24 hours non-stop everyday, some are so sad that you can hardly bear, some are incredibly moving that you just can't stop crying... I wanted to go to the front to help with all those people ... but I heard that the traffic needed to be kept totally clear for rescue transportation at the moment. ... I have never felt more proud of my country and people ... their love, courage and kindness rock me to my core! I am going to send you comic strips almost everyday from now on, I hope you could know something about the earthquake in China, although you don't have to do anything, but I hope you could feel our love and hope."

Read the ongoing collection here.

"When I Fart, I Look Behind Me," and Other Bon Mots

David Sedaris visits The Daily Show, promoting his new book "When You Are Engulfed in Flames," and riffs on the Japanese and quitting smoking.

Sigur Rós & Ryan McGinley

Sigur Rós has a new single, "Gobbledigook," available for download from their official website. It's a pretty sweet song, and it's got a great-looking video to go with it (which is also available, exclusively, on sigurros.com).

(A warning: nudity and puns to follow!)

Stereogum uses the phrases "cheeky (as in ass-y)" and "We can Sigur asses, guys" in their write-up on the release, because both the video and the album feature the work of photographer Ryan McGinley...who, well, usually sometimes features naked people.

But don't let that deter you. Or arouse you, for that matter. McGinley is a really talented artist. So just like I'm excited for the new Sigur Rós, I'm excited to take this opportunity to look at some of my favorite photographs of McGinley's:






















































(Whoa! Slow down. Take your time and look at them again. Probably while listening to Sigur Rós.)

...So, um, in summation: Sigur Rós' new album, með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, drops stateside June 24th.

And, because I just can't pass him up, here's McGinley's portrait of Michael Cera for this year's NY Times Magazine Oscars feature:












You go, George Michael!

New Discoveries

A couple of fascinating new articles--

From BBC News:













"One of South America's few remaining uncontacted indigenous tribes has been spotted and photographed on the border between Brazil and Peru.

The photos were taken during several flights over one of the most remote parts of the Amazon rainforest in Brazil's Acre region.

They show tribe members outside thatched huts, surrounded by the dense jungle, pointing bows and arrows up at the camera."

From NYTimes.com:
















"Two monkeys with tiny sensors in their brains have learned to control a mechanical arm with just their thoughts, using it to reach for and grab food and even to adjust for the size and stickiness of morsels when necessary, scientists reported on Wednesday.

The report, released online by the journal Nature, is the most striking demonstration to date of brain-machine interface technology. Scientists expect that technology will eventually allow people with spinal cord injuries and other paralyzing conditions to gain more control over their lives."

...
Wow. Really captivating and beguiling stuff. The world is indeed an incredible place.

‘Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ – Review

Let’s just say it: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is not an “Indiana Jones” movie. It has little to do with it’s predecessors, save for some flagrantly transparent references to the earlier trilogy. If anything, it’s a rip-off of a rip-off, having more in common with schlock like National Treasure and The Mummy than a classic like Raiders of the Lost Ark. To call it “tongue-in-cheek” would be putting it mildly—it is a total assault on seriousness.

But now that that’s out of the way (and I think we’re in agreement so far), I really have to admit a couple points to myself: 1), National Treasure and The Mummy—and, indeed, Crystal Skull—have such an unabashed joyfulness in reckless adventure that I find myself admiring their offhandedness, and 2), The visual wit of Raiders (and, to a lesser extent, Temple of Doom and Last Crusade) is still here—it’s just buried under layer after layer of self-referential citation.

Too often, movie sequels inspire an obligatory “checklist” in their audience (and, for that matter, their filmmakers)—and I think the more beloved the original, the truer this axiom. Fedora? Bullwhip? Underground tomb? It’s all here, and then some. You’ll find, among other thematic repeat offenders, secrets hidden in plain view (sometimes right under your feet!), issues of trust and duplicity (i.e., “So what are you, some kind of... triple agent?”), and righteousness in the face of greed (“Their treasure wasn't gold, it was knowledge.”). But this is a dangerous game for filmmakers, as no two viewer’s expectations are ever the same. Favor conservatism, and the film is labeled a retread. Sway too far into novelty and fans complain about the changes. It’s the proverbial double-edged sword (though you could argue that the best solution would have been to simply not make another Indiana Jones movie…but that’s a moot point. Where there’s money to be made…).

So, of course, Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and screenwriter David Koepp made incredible miscalculations in the plot. Gone is the user-friendly Christian mythology that was so successful for Raiders of the Lost Ark and Last Crusade. Instead, we’re treated to a convoluted story about Soviet communism, parapsychology, mind-control, Aztecs, aliens, and expected (but tiresome) questions of parentage. And, unfortunately, that’s it—it doesn’t add up to anything. Plot points are hit, pert jokes each have their turn, and one regurgitated sequence after another only serves to remind you of another time in the series when Spielberg and Lucas and Harrison Ford pulled it off better. And because each of these moments comes packaged with its own pre-made punchline, based solely on recognition, the purpose of the 'jokes' is to “get” the 'jokes' (i.e., that Indy is old, that ants are the new snakes, etc.). Sometimes this works—like when Indy shifts gears into problem-solving mode (watching Ford as Indiana Jones is a kick, as he reinhabits the ticks and mannerisms of his most iconic character)—but usually it doesn’t (see: “ants are the new snakes”).

But that assessment's not totally fair, and I say that for two reasons. One, because even when the gears aren’t quite lining up and you can feel the effort behind the hamhandedness, there’s still some genuine pleasure to be gained from the attempt. Cate Blanchett makes as unconvincing a Soviet spy as I’ve ever seen, but the slipping accent and cartoon-dominatrix persona seem to be what makes the role fun (for her and, maybe, us). And when Blanchett asks Indy to find a single artifact in an eerily familiar military warehouse, stocked with wooden government crates—well, of course Indy hasn’t been there before and won’t know his way around, but…hasn’t he? It’s like the characters know as much about themselves as we (the audience) do, and because we’ve already seen such an enormous storage center (in Raiders), what’s the point in pretending we haven’t? Simply, places like that don’t exist in reality, but we believed it 17 years ago, so the characters themselves are willing to unquestionably believe in such a space.

And two, while the story is lacking, it’s the deft visual eye of Steven Spielberg that elevates Crystal Skull, if not to Ark/Temple/Crusade levels, than at least to the positive side of The Phantom Menace. Notice how even the most rote sequence can have moments of brilliance. For example, Crystal Skull begins on a highway in the Nevada desert, with a chain of military vehicles being passed by a speeding car full of teens in poodle skirts. Yes, it’s a lazy device to establish that we’re in the 1950’s, but pay attention to Spielberg’s camera movement. Before the lead truck is overtaken by the car, as they’re side-by-side, the frame moves from the point-of-view of the sock hoppers, to between the vehicles (reflecting the moving car in the truck’s side mirror), and then through the window into the truck, mischievously shifting the POV from flippant to combative in one fluid movement—and perfectly setting up the deadly confrontation at the military base. This kind of elegant and playful (and presumably difficult) camerawork makes for subconsciously compelling viewing.

So where does that leave me? Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull is, at times, a discombobulated mess. But certainly a tentpole picture like this is almost exclusively about spectacle, and as a serial adventure it doesn’t have to follow all the established rules of logic, or even come close to them, right? Therefore, maybe Crystal Skull has more in common with the “Indiana Jones” spirit than I (and it’s detractors) would like to believe—not because it rehashes all the past successes of the series, but because it harks back to the pulp serials of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas’ childhoods (which inspired the character in the first place). Where else would you find man-eating ants and an adventurer swinging through the vines of a rainforest? Isn’t it kind of refreshing to have a movie as enamored with logic and history as The Da Vinci Code, but function without the deadening weight of it’s own bloated self-importance (which, perhaps, explains the venture in plot from the spiritual to the supernatural)?

Inevitably, though, Crystal Skull doesn’t quite work. It’s like drawing in a coloring book. Though you may have all the “perfect” colors from your crayon box, sometimes you’re just stuck with the wrong picture for what you’ve got. Sure, the sun isn’t supposed to be purple, but damn if it’s not a pleasant shade of purple, and kind of endearing in it’s kindergarten simplicity.

“Wow, he is so great.”

A context-free highlight* (and picture!), wrought from the World Wide Web:

“ "You’re late again, Ma Nan."
"I’m sorry, Miss Zhang."
"When do you get up every morning?"
"At 7."
"Get up earlier. Don’t be late next time." ”


(*So, I plan on making "Context-Free ..." a regular feature here, but I actually think this little story is served better with just an eensy bit of context: it's from an English-language grade school textbook. And really, isn't hectoring the best way to learn English?)

More Pugs in Costume! (Sci-fi Edition)

Scoot On In...

"SCOOT ON IN FOR CHECK UP"

So says the roadside marquee at Hume Veterinary Hospital (at Eubank and Comanche, in Albuquerque).

You might think it's strange that Hume has, in my mind, a notorious reputation for displaying bad puns on their marquee, but I think this is the perfect example. I mean, what do you think of when you hear the word "scoot," when paired with a place associated exclusively with dogs and cats? Think about it: What are dogs doing when they "scoot"?

So...why in the Hell would you want to bring this imagery to the mind's of your potential customers? Why would you choose the word "scoot," when there are innumerable (and less, um, visual) alternatives still implicitly associated with animals (i.e., dash, trot)? ...I just don't get it.


(Just to be sure it wasn't just me, I did a Google search for "dogs+scoot", and the top results included pages titled 'Why does my dog scoot his butt across the floor?' and 'The Anal Sacs Page'.)

(I understand that this pun may actually be intentional--that is, they want to remind you of your dog wiping his butt on your floor, in order for you to bring your dog into the office to help it. But, seriously, is that really necessary? Even, ahem, diarrhea medications [like Pepto Bismal] have the decency to not allude to the physical act of...well, you get the picture.)

(Any reason to write about dogs is reason enough to post a picture of pugs in costumes.)

Daytime Television: A Sad, Strange World

You are ...NOT the father!

So, I was sitting at home the other day, flipping channels between the Maury show and the Today show, and all the other shows that show up on weekday mornings on broadcast TV, but I stopped on Maury because he's usually the most lascivious. On that day, Maury was revealing some exciting Caught On Tape footage, and he was discussing the outrageousness of it all with a certified specialist, some sort of therapist-type woman, who's gregarious personality and wide smile perfectly matched her simple, moralizing "advice."

Maury and the therapist-type were talking about a man who videotaped unknowing women in his massage studio, in various states of undress. Boos! Jeers from the live studio audience! He's a sick man! Those poor women! Well, of course they didn't show the actual video--that'd just be in bad taste. So instead they hired actors to "dramatize" the salacious invasions of this most intimate privacy. They hired women to strip to their underwear. For their cameras. They videotaped women, in various states of undress. To publicly scold a man who videotaped women in various states of undress. The live studio audience, of course, cheered when the therapist-type announced the man's prison sentence.

All in all, I don't really understand daytime television. Watching it really just bums me out. I mean, all it is is advertisements for diets and exercise programs, Associate's degrees, high school diplomas, game design classes, and airplane maintenance licensure programs, in between court shows, talk shows, soap operas, and The 700 Club. I mean, c'mon! What kind of sad, pathetic person watches The 700 Club?!? ... ... Well, I guess the same kind of person who'd condemn a man for doing THE EXACT SAME THING THAT THEY'RE DOING! I guess it's okay for women to be taken advantage of, as long as their bodies are being displayed to thousands of TV viewers, and she's getting paid for it. ...Hypocrites!