Saturday, March 28, 2009

Things I Hate: TV Ads that Try to Make It Touching to Work Instead of Being with Family

That's a long title, and requires a bit of unpacking. So I feel like I'm always seeing TV ads that depict some wonderful technology that allows career-obsessed businesspeople to "connect" with their children and work at their white-collar jobs at the same time. The "connect" in there does not have a sufficient number of ironic quotation marks. Let's try it again: ""connect"". Maybe ""connect?!?!?"" (and I'm also doing air quotes at the same time, but you can't see them).

My point is that these ads are always meant to be touching and they always depress the hell out of me. Most involve some guy on a business trip sitting at some faceless hotel and then linking up his Microsoft brand QualityTimeWithJohnny microprocessor so that he can wish happy birthday to his kid. That's plenty depressing on its own. One recent one was even more brazen though: Some dude's showing his boss some building plans through some InterWebconference-inar-i-doo, and then the camera pans up, and hey! It's an adorable kid on the beach! Hi, Junior! The guy's at the beach with his kid! Isn't it adorable! 

No, it's not, not at all. Its deeply offensive, in fact. You're at the fucking beach with your family and you're still working at your dumb-ass job? That qualifies you for the Worst Father of the Year Award. Why not get some sales calls done during your kid's graduation ceremony? Hey, you could squeeze in a board meeting at the hospital while your child is being born! You can have it all, and simultaneously!

These ads always have voiceovers about "now you can make time for those who are truly important." But you know what? If your family was truly important to you, you wouldn't be at a sales conference in Yuma while your kid has a birthday party. You wouldn't be looking at schematics rather than helping your kid build sand castles. You would be with your kid, accomplishing nothing but being with your kid.

I know, some people have demanding jobs. My point is, quit those jobs. Take something lesser. If your family is truly important to you, work less hours so you can spend more time with them. If that means less money, so be it. If that means sacrificing your all-important Career, fuck your career. Careers are for the selfish. Real people have jobs. 

I'm overstating the case, per usual -- people should be able to pursue jobs that challenge and interest them. But this attitude of "having it all" really gets to me. There's a very sick and very American idea that everyone should be able to work extremely hard while also being the greatest parents ever. In reality, it's always one or the other. 

And what exactly does this career obsession get people? Nicer houses that then collapse in value? It's not like we're in a developing country where you have to work like a dog just to survive. There are plenty of blue-collar folks who might not be well-off but survive just fine, thank you, on 40-hour-a-week jobs. Of course, there are also plenty of blue-collar folks who have to work three jobs to support their family, but that's a different story with a whole different set of issues. We're taking about the upwardly mobile, who work prestigious, crazy-hour business jobs and do it by choice, completely for their own selfish reasons, regardless of what they tell themselves.

And I can hardly object to someone wanting to torture themselves with insane jobs if they're the only ones who suffer. It's the same reason I believe in legalizing drugs: Hey, if you want to kill yourself, be my guest. If you have such an urge, the world would probably be better off without you. Just don't take innocents down with you. 

Kids would qualify as innocents here. Kids don't need "quality time," which implies trying to maximize the efficiency of time spent with your kids so as to pack in as much fun as possible, like he or she is some kind of cog in an assembly line that needs specific amounts of caring each day. Kids need "quantity time." They need parents who sit around with them and do a lot of unstructured nothing. That's how you truly develop bonds with children. You can't manufacture or manage these kinds of things. They just happen with time.

Maybe in the current economy this seems like a crazy notion, to actually try to work less, when so many people are not working at all. But this is more of a core American concept, this Work Uber Alles, that all work is good and there is no limit to how much work you should be wiling to do, that has always baffled me. It's not necessary to undergo this to have a high standard of living -- in fact, people in most developed countries take it much easier than we do. Any European in August is not looking at schematics, I'll tell you that. 

I've been beating up on the businesspeople, but the core of the problem is American institutions themselves, and the expectations they have. For example, most large law firms expect their new hires to work 70 hours a week. Why? What's the point of putting them through that kind of hazing? To make them lose their families so they can devote themselves fully to making money for you?

I saw an article saying that old crusty lawyers were actually complaining about how the new crop isn't willing to put in those kind of hours. Good for the new crop, I say. Fuck you, old man. I deserve to have a job I like and also be able to sleep and eat and know other human beings. 

This Work Uber Alles attitude in America is perpetuated by macho bullshit about being tough and working hard, but it actually has its roots in Puritanism. (This is the part where you fall asleep, if you haven't already.) A guy named Max Weber, a founder of sociology, wrote all about it in a great book called "The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism." Basically, in the olden days, when people were even dumber than they are now, all people cared about was whether you were making it to heaven. John Calvin, however, thought that heaven was predestined for some people, and you couldn't buy your way in, as the Catholics thought. So a bunch of people believed Calvin, and they became Calvinists.

Maybe Calvin was trying to get people to chill out and stop worrying about heaven. It's sort of like telling who a kid who won't shut up about going to Chuck E. Cheese's "we'll go when we can. Now go play." But just as that won't work, Calvin's brainstorm didn't work either. People instead started looking for outward manifestations of some inner "chosen"ness. One way to tell if you were destined to be heaven-bound is if you're well-off. This really appealed to people who were well-off, particularly merchants who weren't really accepted in higher society: Hey you know all this money that I squeezed out of weak suckers and don't really need? Turns it out it makes me a saint! I dig this religion!

Meanwhile Catholics still believed poverty was a virtue, and thus let monks go live in a distant hillside and try it out while they amassed wealth. But still, it was an ethic, and wealth was not necessarily a sign of being good.

In America, though, as the Calvinists, including Puritans, swarmed across the land, they brought this idea that greed is heavenly and set it as a firm belief. But they exercised it in sort of a pious way, not making a show of their wealth and fetishizing work instead of conspicuous consumption. Weber quotes Benjamin Franklin saying that every moment of the day should be spent working in some way, always adding to your revenues while minimizing costs. That quote really made me hate Benjamin Franklin for a long time until I learned that he retired at 40 and then spent the rest of the time being a celebrity, going to an occasional Constitutional Convention and then spending the rest of his time snorting blow off of hookers' girdles as he sped down the cobblestone roads in his Porsche. He was kind of a Bill Clinton, really. 

Anyway, this new fetishization of work turned out well for us, because industrialization came along and Americans saw an opportunity to really amass some big, big, big wealth and thus get into Super-Duper Heaven (which has better waterslides). Meanwhile, Europe was still busy wearing painful clothes and then taking out their uncomfortableness on each other in the form of bloody wars, and America came out on top. That's all of human history for ya. You're welcome.

Point is, our American worship of work has deep roots and probably isn't going anywhere, as your society, our religious life, and our economy were all largely founded on it.  So why am I even bothering to fight it? I don't know. I'm tired now. I'm taking the rest of the day off. 

Friday, March 6, 2009

Things that Smart, Cool People Think Are Great but Really Aren't, At All: Joss Whedon

This is a difficult topic for me to discuss openly. This is something that I feel very strongly about but that directly contradicts the deeply held beliefs of many of the people whom I love the most in this world. These are people whose perspectives and sensibilities are typically impeccably attuned with mine, whose opinions I usually hold in the utmost regard. My wife, my sisters, my brother-in-law: all love Joss Whedon with all of their hearts and souls. And boy oh boy I really can't stand him.

Even academics in the humanities, whose only real job is to have good taste in stuff and then yak about it, talk rapturously about his work and teach entire classes about him. Something is awry here -- I'm fundamentally out of sync with my people. I have to try to work this out. I don't like feeling this alone. 

For those who don't know, Joss Whedon is the creator of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Angel," "Firefly," and now "Dollhouse," the last of which I just tried unsuccessfully to sit through tonight with my wife. And I really tried. My wife had talked it up like it was the new best show ever. I hope I didn't hurt her feelings, but halfway through I had to turn away and play on the computer. It was just that painful.

No mediocre show would ever be this painful. Any show that doesn't even try to be original or interesting  (for example's sake, let's say "Two and Half Men,") would just wash over me in a numbing haze, after which I'd sit up and say, "Wait, that sucked!" But at least it wouldn't jab me in the gut while it was going on. Well, maybe it would. "The Housewives of Orange County" does, and it isn't anything but bad, bad, bad.

But "The Housewives of Orange County" hurts me in a more crass and obvious way, because it blatantly offends my values -- Joss Whedon shows are much more subtle, reaching deeper into my gut and offending values I didn't know I had.

OK, there are many good things about Joss Whedon shows. They often have very creative plots, for example. The high-concept episodes can be very inspired. Hair and makeup seems adequate. But the fundamental problem is the dialogue. It's always dreadful in a very unique way, a way I have trouble describing. In the spectrum of terrible dialogue, it's on the opposite end of the kind you'd find in any "Mystery Science Theater 3000"-type movie, in which the dialogue is contrived to serve the plot or is ridiculously melodramatic or just generally shows the signs of being written by dumb people with a tin ear for how real people really talk. In Joss Whedon shows, it's smart people, who are probably very nice in real life, writing smarty-pants dialogue that shows they have a tin ear for how real people really talk.

An example is in order. I can't find the exact quote I'm thinking of from tonight's episode -- hopefully I soon will and I'll revise this later. This exchange will do in the meantime.

OK, so the guy who created this ace of assassins or whatever (Boyd) hands a gun to Eliza Dushku (Echo), who is one of the assassin people. 

Boyd (handing Echo a gun): Do you know how to use this?
Echo: Four brothers. None of them Democrats.

OK, on the surface, students, this could possibly be a funny concept. Democrats don't have guns. This is probably something that "The Simpsons" has used to good effect at some point.

But this exchange takes that concept and delivers it such a ham-handed, look-at-me-aren't-I-clever way that it completely kills it. It's as if some blundering chunkhead got ahold of all "The Simpsons"' joke topics, ate them, and then puked all over an action film. 

But I don't know if that's even Simpsons-worthy, actually. I'm tempted to believe that the line above is a result of someone going to an irony mine that has long ago been tapped, dredging up some sludge, taking it home and calling it gold. 

Maybe a great actor could actually turn that shit into gold. Meryl Streep could say a line like that and make it seem like it's a joke for the sake of the other characters, one that might actually make sense within the narrative, instead of just seeming a wink and a nod at the audience. 

The problem is that in all Joss Whedon shows, all parts are performed by third-rate actors who aren't up the challenge. They don't ever seem like people who could ever come with a quip of any kind, good or bad, on the spot. As a result, all the dialogue seems so "written" that it keeps pulling you out of the action.

And a key problem is the context of these lines: in Joss Whedon shows, these kind of overwritten arch-clevernesses are usually in the midst of some hard-boiled moment, as in the above scene of being handed a gun. I guess it's supposed to be funnier, or cooler, or something, that these characters are able to quip "witticisms" while in the midst of some tense, tough-guy situation. Maybe it's supposed to make them seem even tougher. For me, it just ruins everything and makes them seem like annoying, showy pricks. I'm thinking "OK, yeah, you're hilarious, just take the damn gun." And then here comes a giant, slobbering, ugly monster -- nothing wrong with that -- but then you get a cloying, smart-ass quip that some good guy tries unsuccessfully to toss off -- "Someone needs a good spa treatment!" -- and all the tension it shot straight to hell, as if the screenwriter popped his fool head out from the machine and says "Hey, wasn't that hilarious! Ha ha! Aren't I clever! OK, now back to the action."

Also, Joss apparently gets a big woody when it's tiny, young, attractive women delivering these unfunny quips in the midst of action sequences. And I'm all for it in principle. I'm a strong believer in feminism and fundamentally believe that women should be whatever they want to be. I defend to the death their right to do it, even if I feel it's extremely disappointing to see that what they would want to be is action heroes delivering lame quips. Action heroes delivering lame quips suck. Action heroes delivering lame quips are just men with inadequacy issues who are so intimidated by life's complexities that they can't deal with them in any way besides pretending they can punch and shoot and quip their way through them. Ladies, don't buy into that bullshit! You're accepting the oppressors' flawed and violent worldview. You're being as prickish as the pricks from whom you're freeing yourselves. You've got Stockholm syndrome, embracing the ways of your captors. It's as if black people, once freed from slavery, decided to dress up as plantation owners and go to cotillions. 

OK, maybe I went WAAAAY too far there. But that's a side issue -- the fact that these characters are women really isn't anywhere near the core of the problem. The core of the problem is that it's all comic-book shit dressed up in a good budget and competent plots. It's unrelateable characters spewing trite dialogue while doing macho wish-fulfillment things, thus inspiring hero worship and panting fanboys and etc.

I'm no psychologist. And I haven't ever learned much about Joss Whedon. But I predict that his formative years went something like this:

1. Youth and adolescence spent reading comic books. That was about it.
2. In college, his eyes were opened to women. Maybe he took a few Women's Studies courses and really dug it. He gained an appreciation for women as they really are, as opposed to the horny, lonely male's conception that he'd seen in comic books. Good so far, right? The kid's growing up.
3. Here's where he went wrong: He couldn't get away from the comic books. He awkwardly shoved the Women's Studies stuff into the world of comic books. Granted, that's a world that could probably use it. When your vision of womankind is an amazon wearing a bustier, maybe a little feminism could help.

And it does make for an improvement, I'll grant that. But, at the risk of being repetitive, that's basically just painting shit gold. The basic problem is that comic books suck. They really, really do. They are all oversimplified tropes and cookie-cutter characters with farcically clear-cut conflicts and ridiculously bulging muscles and no discernible human characteristics. And this is all so sucky that anything with a foundation in comic books, no matter how modernized, will suck too.

OK, fine, there are great comic books out there. I've read graphic novels that I found to be terrific. But those are drastic departures from the main comic book theme of simple-minded wish fulfillment, of power porn for the powerless. Maybe they're great for teenagers who really do need porn and are pretty powerless -- I don't know. I have a feeling that Superman is just the male version of Barbie: a culturally constructed ideal form that is never truly attainable and only serves to foster deep-seated feelings of inadequacy. Maybe.

But anyway. Despite all apparent evidence to the contrary, I really don't have that much animus towards comic books. Fine, comic book fans, go your own way, wave your freak flag high, I don't care. We all have escapes -- mine is fantasy baseball, which is just as stupid in different ways. 

Joss Whedon shows, on the other hand, tear at my soul, and I'm still left wondering exactly what values of mine they so offend. Perhaps it's not actually a matter of values being offended. Perhaps it's more about what I started this with, about seeing everyone else put it in the pantheon of Things Smart, Cool People Love, along with "The Simpsons" and "Seinfeld" and all of these other great cultural achievements (and I don't mean that sarcastically) that I totally get, a hundred percent. And I can feel a deep kinship with all the Smart People through these common touchstones ... but then it comes to Joss Whedon shows and I'm like, "Hold on, what? Really? That leaden line delivered horribly didn't bug you? OK, yeah, sure it had the exterior trappings of Simpsonian or Seinfeldian cleverness, but it wasn't clever, not at all; it was un-clever in a freakish, perverse way, like a puppy that should be cute and is indeed fuzzy and small and happy but then has only one eye in the middle of its forehead. Can't you see that it only has one eye? Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I the freak here? Do I have no one?"

OK, that's a bit dramatic. It's just a show, and everyone has different opinions. And maybe I put too much stock in opinions about trivial things like TV shows as far as gauging deep kinship. But it's just very rare for me to be so at odds with everyone I know and love. And I don't like it. I like peace and togetherness. I want to be with you all. But somehow I can't.

"Man, get this guy a dry rag and shrink pronto, kemo sabe!"

Ha ha, yeah, that's hilarious, Joss. Fuck you, Joss Whedon. Fuck you.