I have some weird eye condition going on. It's either: a) a blockage of the oil glands in my eyelids; or b) a blockage of the oil glands in my eyelids PLUS pinkeye. (The doctor isn't sure.) So for now, my eyes are swollen, red, and goopy. Also, because of the eye irritation, my nose is running like a broken faucet. And I'm extremely sensitive to light, AND I go from being able to see a little to not being able to see at all.
This is all supposed to clear up somewhere in the neighborhood of three to ten days. In the meantime, I'll blog when I can...if I can...
For some
reason today I had a flashback to the 2006 Virginia Senate race between George
Allen and Jim Webb. You may remember that Webb had dispatched a kid to film all
of Allen's campaign events, hoping to catch him in a screw-up. Annoyed by this,
Allen referred to the kid at one campaign stop as "Macaca, or whatever his
name is," and later said, "Let's give a welcome to Macaca."
This caused a flap when it was revealed
that the word "macaca" is used as a racial slur in certain parts of
the world, and that the kid filming Allen was of Indian ancestry.
When asked about his use of the word
"macaca," Allen said that it was just a "made up word," one
that he had "never heard before."
Now, I can understand making up a word for a guy, or
a nickname, but "macaca"? That sounds like baby-talk; it has no
meaning. If you were going to make up a name you'd come up with something like,
"Sneaky Pete." If you wanted people to make note of his dark skin,
you might come up with something like "Haji" or "Apu." You
wouldn't come up with "macaca," precisely because it's meaningless.
Ah, but you might come up with "macaca" if
you knew it had racist connotations in certain cultures. Yes, very clever...
Here, though, is Wikipedia's explanation of the word:
Macaca[1] is a pejorative epithet used by francophone colonialists in Central Africa'sBelgian Congo for the native population.[2] It may be derived from the name of the genus comprising macaque monkeys. The word macaque has also been used as a racial slur. The macaque's genus name, Macaca, is a latinization of the Bantu (Kongo) ma-kako,[3] meaning "monkey".
You think George Allen knew that? Again, it defies
belief. The brainiest, most well-read people I know had never heard the word
"macaca." You think George Allen--who has all the brains and
worldliness of a fruit fly--knew the origins and meaning of this word? Even if
he did, his audience clearly did not, so why use it? He might as well have told
a joke in Swedish...not a single person in the crowd would get it.
So, we're left with a mystery. "Macaca"
can't have been some randomly generated, meaningless nickname. At the same
time, though, Allen couldn't possibly have known the meaning of the word among
"francophone colonialists," or, on the exceedingly slim chance that
he did, there would have been no reason for him to use it with an audience that
could only hear it and say, "Huh?"
As I said, a mystery.
Footnote: my own theory is that "macaca"
had some meaning within the campaign...it was an inside joke of some sort, the
meaning of which was too embarrassing or damaging for Allen to share with the
press once the scandal erupted.
I went to see "The Happening" last night, primarily out of a desire to see just how low M. Night Shyamalan had sunk. I was expecting the movie to be bad--really bad. And it was bad. Or at least not good. But it wasn't terrible...not "one of the worst movies of the year" bad...not so-bad-it's-good bad. Just plain old bad, maybe even verging on so-so.
The movie actually has two interesting ideas at its heart: 1) what if nature started to defend itself against man?; and 2) what if the safest response to a crisis were not to come together, as we humans instinctively do, but to isolate ourselves and get as far away from one another as possible?
The main problem with the movie is that it has no place interesting to go with these ideas. So it goes nowhere. Really. There's no narrative arc, no real tension that has to be resolved, no payoff. It doesn't make for an entertaining 90 minutes.
P.S. Also, the performance by Zooey Deschanel is one of the weirdest by a leading lady that I can remember.
You probably read today that Barack Obama has reversed himself on an earlier pledge to accept public funding--and the associated spending limits--for his fall campaign. Instead, he will continue to accept private donations, which will allow him to raise and spend vastly more than he could under the public system.
Indisputably, this is a broken promise. How does Obama explain it? Here's how:
It’s not an easy decision, and especially because I support a robust
system of public financing of elections. But the public financing of
presidential elections as it exists today is broken, and we face
opponents who’ve become masters at gaming this broken system. John
McCain’s campaign and the Republican National Committee are fueled by
contributions from Washington lobbyists and special interest PACs. And
we’ve already seen that he’s not going to stop the smears and attacks
from his allies running so-called 527 groups, who will spend millions
and millions of dollars in unlimited donations.
This is nonsense on soooooo many levels. If you doubt that, drop a note in the comment box. I will overwhelm you with evidence.
The question is, will this broken pledge matter at all?
On one level, no it won't. It's seriously inside baseball. Your average voter won't understand the details, and won't care enough to get educated on the details. McCain will say "X" on this subject, Obama will say "not-X," and voters will shrug.
On another level, though, I expect it will matter. That other level involves mainstream media coverage.
To this point in the campaign, Obama has gotten fairly affectionate press coverage. Now that he's defeated Hillary, it's time for that tide to turn. It's a natural cycle in media coverage. And just as that new cycle is set to begin, Obama serves up this decision...a decision that puts the lie to his whole argument about mending the broken politics of Washington, about change you can believe in. This is a cynical, purely political, purely self-interested decision, supported by an explanation that is insulting to the intelligence of anyone who follows politics at all. That "anyone" includes political reporters, who from this day forward are going to think that the black Jack Kennedy is perhaps just another ambitious pol who's interested in winning first, everything else second.
That will show up in the media coverage of Obama. And that will filter down to the masses.
Some of you may remember the late-night visit I had a couple of months back from the drunk girl with a bottle of Chianti. Well tonight I had a visit from a drunk guy without a bottle of Chianti. He knocked on my door at 3:30 a.m. because he saw my light on. My light was on because I was working. I was working because I did Krav Maga today, after which I was so wiped out that I had to take a nap. That means I'm going to be up half the night.
So, anyway, the guy's name was Tim. Tim stopped by just to see what I was doing, wanted me to know that he was gay, wanted to say "hi" because we'd never met before, wanted me to know that he was in Unit #3 and that I could stop by some time if I felt like it.
If all of this had come from a straight guy, I would have said to myself, "Nice guy. Very thoughtful." Because it came from a gay guy, though, I thought, "Nice guy. Very thoughtful. Wants to see me naked."
Footnote: I don't know why, but the time stamp on my posts is still set to Mountain Time. I'm on Central Time now, though, and it's coming up on 4:00 a.m.
I saw "The Promotion" last night, pretty much on a whim. I knew almost nothing about it. But I like Seann William Scott, and John C. Reilly, and Jenna Fischer, and it looked like it might be a hidden gem, so off I went. I was the only one in the theater, which is never a good sign. HOWEVER, I really enjoyed the movie. I laughed a lot, which means something when your laughter is not being egged on by the laughter of others. There were no moments that made me shake my head, either, and say, "Oh come on...", and nothing that seemed like a kowtow to audience expectations or the needs of a Hollywood studio. It was just a good, funny, realistic, low-key comedy about some decent, average Americans (and one Canadian, and a Scots-woman) trying to deal as best they can with an uncomfortable situation at work.
When I got home, I looked up the movie on Rotten Tomatoes. I expected it would be a critical darling, but instead it was rated only 46 percent fresh. Critics were VERY divided. One guy said this:
All in all, The Promotion deserves to be remembered fondly
when this year’s award season comes rolling around. At last, we have a
completely and profoundly American movie with all the classical skills
of timing, editing and character development that we associate
nostalgically with some Hollywood golden age.
Another guy said this: "This is easily the worst movie I've seen so far this year."
So, I guess you see it at your own risk. But if your sensibilities are anything like mine, you'll really enjoy it.
***
There's nothing healthy to eat at the movie theater. I feel guilty, though, about not buying anything. Why? Well, theater owners only break even on ticket sales. The money comes from concessions. At least that's what I've heard. So, I feel bad about buying my ticket, blowing past the concession stand, watching my movie, and leaving. Last night, therefore, I stopped at the concession, as I normally do. About the healthiest thing I saw was one of those big soft pretzels, so that's what I got. Unfortunately, this one came with some nutrition information. (They re-heated it for me in a plastic pouch that had all the info printed on the side.) Brace yourselves--480 calories! It had almost no fat, which is good, but 500 calories are still 500 calories. One of those big movie hot dogs would have been about half as much. (I need to look up movie popcorn, too. If you get it without any butter flavoring, it might be in the tolerable range, calorie-wise.)
Intra-post footnote: do you know why the sizes of things at the concession are so large? I mean, if you want a popcorn or a Coke, there's Super-Colossal, Just Plain Colossal, Ginormous, Huge but not Quite Ginormous, Really Big, Just Plain Big, and (in very small print up on the food marquee), Tiny Penis Size. I think the reason for this is that, because of the aforementioned business model, they have to charge a lot on concessions to make a buck. And if they're going to charge a lot, they have to seem to justify it by giving you a lot. Because the marginal cost of a little more Coke or a little more popcorn is next to nothing, they can, in fact, give you a lot without cutting into profit margins too much. Hence, the ridiculously large sizes. That's my theory, anyway.
***
Back on the subject of "The Promotion," I found an interview last night in which Jenna Fischer, who I think is very cute, and sometimes downright sexy, said the following about Seann William Scott, who I don't think is particularly attractive:
He’s gorgeous. When I’m looking at him I need a 15 minute break before
I look in a mirror because it would just depress me. His features are
so perfectly, wonderfully defined. He’s like a Greek God, and he’s got
tattoos and muscles.
Really? Stifler? Okay, different strokes for different folks, I guess.
Speaking of which, Lili Taylor was also in "The Promotion," and there were moments in which she looked--dare I say?--beautiful. Here's a picture of her looking the way I think she normally looks. Not bad, but certainly not beautiful. Here's a picture, though, where maybe you can see the beauty starting to emerge. And here's a bonus picture, not of Lili Taylor, but of Seann William Scott, a.k.a., Stifler. I'll admit that he looks like a reasonably handsome guy in that pic, but "gorgeous"? "Greek god"? Ladies, where do you stand on this?
***
Check out this chart depicting the critics' view of M. Night Shyamalan's post--"Sixth Sense" pics. (You'll need to scroll down just a bit.) He peaked at 74 percent with "Signs," and has been in free fall ever since: 43 percent for "The Village," 24 percent for "Lady in the Water," and 20 percent for "The Happening." How could a guy who showed such a deft hand for creepy mass entertainment in "The Sixth Sense" be turning out such crap in the last few years? Let's just hope he gets his mojo back.
***
And finally, I saw "You Don't Mess with the Zohan" this weekend as well. I think this is the first time I've ever seen an Adam Sandler movie in the theater. Just not a fan. BUT, I've been reading so much about the Middle East, and Israel, and Judaism, and Islam, and Arabs, I needed a little cinematic fix, no matter how far afield of my substantive interests. My reaction? I'm still not a Sandler fan. The comedy is much too broad for me. However, Sandler was surprisingly good. I think of him as being a terrible actor, with only two notes (rage and man-childishness), but he's obviously expanded his range and gotten much more comfortable on screen. Rob Schneider was fine, despite one critic referring to him as the "comedy tax" you have to pay when you see a Sandler movie. And there were laughs scattered throughout--not a lot of big ones, and not a lot that were particularly hard-earned, but laughs nonetheless. If you can find a date to take, then go ahead, enjoy yourselves. Otherwise, save it for a Saturday night at home.
I heard the news about Russert while driving around yesterday, and it was quite a shock. Very sad for Russert himself (who had many productive years left), his family, his friends, and his colleagues.
When I got home, though, I thought the coverage was a little over the top--even allowing for the fact that the media were paying tribute to one of their own. But then when I started to hear the stories about Russert, it seemed that he really was a very different sort of guy, a guy who touched a lot of people's lives. These didn't sound like post-mortem conversions, either--you know, like when the biggest son-of-a-bitch in the world dies, and people remember only the rare good moments as opposed to all of the bad ones. No, the stories people shared and the affection they had for Russert seemed genuine. (It got me thinking that if he'd been a bit more conventionally attractive, he could have had one helluva political career.)
Russert was most famous for the hot-seat, gotcha interview, in which he would force politicians to explain flip-flops, broken promises, and apparent double standards and examples of hypocrisy. He also tried to get them on record with hypothetical questions: "If...would you...?" For example, "If Sen. Obama took a pledge to forego all negative campaigning this fall, would you also take that pledge?" The main reason for doing this, I think, is so that there was always fertile ground to plow in looking for even MORE flip-flops, broken promises, etc. If you answered one of Russert's hypotheticals, and the "if..." part came true somewhere down the road, he could call you back in and force you to explain why you hadn't lived up to the "would you..." part (if indeed you hadn't).
Without a doubt, Russert was the best in the business at this kind of journalism. He was also, I think, quite fair, seeking to skewer both the left and the right with equal vigor.
Unfortunately, I never found this approach particularly edifying. Russert could question someone for an hour, and you would walk away knowing a lot about how they handled themselves under Russert-style questioning, and a lot about how they might deal with some hypothetical issue, but almost nothing about things that matter (namely, the ins and outs of their policy positions on the most important issues of the day, and their responses to the most salient criticisms of those positions). That's because Russert was a political junkie--loved the game--but not a policy wonk.
So, Russert seems to have been a good man who led a good, productive life and touched a lot of people. That's not a bad legacy. I hope, though, that his particular style of journalism does not also become part of the legacy. "Meet the Press" occupies a prime chunk of real estate on Sunday mornings. Russert's successor ought to build something more significant there than one giant hot seat.
I'm reading a book called The Iron Wall. It's about Israel's foreign policy toward its Arab neighbors over the past 60 years. It's part of a revisionist school of thought among Israeli historians that says, basically, "You know, the Arabs haven't always offered us lemonade and cookies over the fence, but in some respects we've been rotten neighbors, too." I decided to read the book because most of the stuff I had read before was highly sympathetic to Israel (as I am). This book, while not overly sympathetic to the Arab countries, has no hesitation in criticizing Israel's foreign policy.
So, anyway, here's what I've concluded about why the Arabs and Israelis can't settle their differences. One side says, "We don't like you, we don't trust you, and we'll always be angry at you because you did X." Then the other side says, "But the only reason we did X was because you did W." Then the first side says, "But the only reason we did W was because you did V." Then the second side says, "But the only reason we did V was because you did U."
And so on. Eventually it loops back around to the original X.
Footnote: sure, it goes much deeper than this, and there are lots of other factors at work. Some Arab Muslims, for example, just hate Jews, and some Israelis look at the history of the Jewish people and think, with some justification, that all threats are existential ones. But I think what I've described above, while simplistic, has been a big part of the problem.
