At this writing, there's the Naked Cowboy, the Naked Chef, the Naked Archaeologist, the Naked Economist, etc., et al., ad infinitum, ad nauseam, ad hoc, semper fidelis, caveat emptor. The first one is a guy who walks around Times Square in a diaper strumming a guitar; the rest are all real shows, no fooling.
The chief problem with all of these people is that they're all men! Who needs that? Naked women are what this country hungers for -- naked men are a dime a dozen. There was a comedienne who said she never understood the concept of Playgirl because if you want a naked man, all you have to do is ask one. Boom, naked man. Same strategy doesn't work on women; I know, I've tried.
But how come you don't see a rash of men on the street disrobing at the drop of a hat? Because no one wants to see that. Granted, most women, and some men, seem to be physically attracted to men on some level. But it's more of a emotional / spiritual / deep-seated whatever-the-fuck than the brand of clinical, dumbfounded simplicity that characterizes attraction for women. That is, when you're attracted to men, you want to see a particular brand of confident swagger that matches a certain effortless overall look, all of which is defined differently by different people at different times ... meanwhile, when you're attracted to women, you want to see boobs. Lots of 'em.
And the reasons are obvious. The female body, as Elaine from Seinfeld once said, is a work of art. The male body is utilitarian. The female body is all sensual smooth curves comprising an aesthetically balanced whole, with each individual body displaying its own unique cohesive beauty. The male body is a machine straight off an assembly line, all straight, dull lines, except, of course, for the knobby, gnarled protrusion in the middle. That's why women always laugh when they see a naked man for the first time: because it's funny. Totally absurd -- you get nothing but a lot of predictable blandness and then, out of nowhere, this messy blob of freak parts that looks less like an implement of love and more like a deformed snail clinging to a walnut.
Anyway, I've said all this before. Point is, I'm sure a show in which a hot naked woman discusses fiscal policy or explores Mayan ruins would be wonderful. But it would still a bit incongruous.
Why exactly you would want your archaeologist or economist to be naked is beyond my comprehension. With the archaeologist, it seems like you'd have to spend a lot of time getting dust that breathes the lives of the ancients out of embarrassing orifices. And that dust might be valuable. Maybe there should be a second archaeologist who takes a little chisel and broom and excavates the naked archaeologist after he rolls around in some ruins.
The Naked Economist is perhaps even stranger. Now I'm sure there are plenty of sexy economists in the world. But as far as I've gleaned in my years of observation, the sexy professions for men are typically the ones that involve being outdoors and using your muscles: cowboy, construction worker, policeman, biker, Indian chief, that kind of thing. Not so much some pasty guy who sits naked in an office chair hunched over government data.
And I'd rather not even think about the hygienic issues associated with the naked chef. I would hope he at least wears a hairnet. Several.
Anyway, all of this is besides the point. None of these naked professionals actually does anything remotely naked. The naked cowboy is at least wearing nothing but a diaper and cowboy hat -- for the rest it's all bait-and-switch. Not that anyone has ever complained; I'm sure people were actually relieved when the Naked Archaeologist turned out to be fully clothed.
Again, the difference between the sexes is illuminating: Can you imagine the uproar if you advertised a show called "The Naked Aviatrix," got the whole heterosexual male world to watch, and then just showed a fully clothed female pilot talking about rudders and altitude gauges? There would be a worldwide riot, cities would burn to the ground, Satan would rise forth and claim his new empire, and everyone would be forced to watch "The Naked Soil & Water Conservation District Commissioner" 24/7.
Perhaps I'm being too literal. Perhaps the titles of these shows are just meant to make their particular brands of archaeology and economics and chef-ing seem fun and exciting. But there are better ways to do that. How about "Xtreme Archaeology"? How about "Russell Simmons' Def Economic Theory Jam"? How about "The Chef that Kicks Fuckin' ASS, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!"
So clearly, guys, there's no reason to resort to the cheap (and disgusting) (and ineffective) strategy of jazzing up your show by calling it naked. Take it from me; I know all about naked. In fact, I'm naked right now! Eh, ladies, heh heh heh? Eh? No? Oh. Sorry. Never mind.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Another Myth That Even Smart People Believe
In a previous post, I mentioned one of my favorite myths that even smart people believe. These are not true urban myths, which usually involve someone stealing your organs or a deadly spider in your hairdo or a murderer who is CALLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE! I don't think anyone with half a brain really believes those kind of urban myths any more, especially since it's become so popular to debunk them.
I'm talking about the little factoids that people repeat to justify some prosaic little life lesson. In the last exciting episode, we (meaning I) talked about the myth that you only use a small percentage of your brain. Which is supposed to prove that you are a genius / ESP master waiting to explode. Too bad it isn't true, and that you're already using all you got.
This time, I'd like to shoot for one of my favorites, that "human beings are the only animals that kill their own species." Aww man, ain't that the truth. We're so evil compared to the animal kingdom, who live in peaceful harmony all the time, holding hands and sucking rainbow-colored lollipops as they belt out John Denver tunes.
Except that it isn't true at all. Animals are selfish little beasties, just like us. They protect the animals whose genetic material they share, such as immediate relatives, particularly children. The rest they don't give a crap about.
It depends on the animal, of course. Some are adorable, like ducks, who mate for life. Others less so, like lions, who often kill other lions' babies. Say a male lion (let's call him Leo) gets a new mate. Say that the lioness already has a bunch of cubs by some other poor sucker (let's call him Lucky). Leo will not hesitate to kill off Lucky's and the lioness' little lads and lassies. Why? Because he has to clear the way for him and his kids, of course. Make Room for Daddy!
In fact, infanticide is a pretty normal part of life for a lot of animals. Dolphins, who typically win awards for cutest animals EVAH, will sometimes take young ones and drown them. No one knows why. Seriously -- I wouldn't make that up. (Well, OK, I might, but this time I'm not, I swear.)
So where does this myth come from? It's clearly an attempt to to take humans down a peg. I'm usually in favor of that kind of thing. But you gotta use some better facts. Like destoying the planet for the sake of driving preposterously large cars -- that kind of thing.
And on the face of it, it sounds reasonable, doesn't it. It seems like animals have to do whatever they can to survive as a species, while we have the luxury of killing each other off and not really batting an eye, species-survival-wise. But evolution doesn't work that way, unfortunately. Each animals seeks to ensure its survival and that of immediate relatives. There's an inborn need to see your genetic material survive, but not necessarily those of mere species-mates.
Not that the example of these animals should be a justification for our behavior. That would be falling into what psychologists call the "naturalistic fallacy," which is the assumption that anything "natural" is inherently good. You see this on products everywhere -- look , these have natural ingredients! So you know they're good! Of course, cyanide is a natural ingredient. Not necessarily good, at least for humans.
So I'm not saying we should feel OK about killing each other because animals do. And I'm not saying that we should feel bad for killing each other because animals don't (in part because they do). I'm thinking that maybe we shouldn't compare ourselves to animals at all. It's kind of a different thing. A different ANIMAL, even! HA HA HA HA! HA ha ha ... ha ha ... ha ... (sigh).
I'm talking about the little factoids that people repeat to justify some prosaic little life lesson. In the last exciting episode, we (meaning I) talked about the myth that you only use a small percentage of your brain. Which is supposed to prove that you are a genius / ESP master waiting to explode. Too bad it isn't true, and that you're already using all you got.
This time, I'd like to shoot for one of my favorites, that "human beings are the only animals that kill their own species." Aww man, ain't that the truth. We're so evil compared to the animal kingdom, who live in peaceful harmony all the time, holding hands and sucking rainbow-colored lollipops as they belt out John Denver tunes.
Except that it isn't true at all. Animals are selfish little beasties, just like us. They protect the animals whose genetic material they share, such as immediate relatives, particularly children. The rest they don't give a crap about.
It depends on the animal, of course. Some are adorable, like ducks, who mate for life. Others less so, like lions, who often kill other lions' babies. Say a male lion (let's call him Leo) gets a new mate. Say that the lioness already has a bunch of cubs by some other poor sucker (let's call him Lucky). Leo will not hesitate to kill off Lucky's and the lioness' little lads and lassies. Why? Because he has to clear the way for him and his kids, of course. Make Room for Daddy!
In fact, infanticide is a pretty normal part of life for a lot of animals. Dolphins, who typically win awards for cutest animals EVAH, will sometimes take young ones and drown them. No one knows why. Seriously -- I wouldn't make that up. (Well, OK, I might, but this time I'm not, I swear.)
So where does this myth come from? It's clearly an attempt to to take humans down a peg. I'm usually in favor of that kind of thing. But you gotta use some better facts. Like destoying the planet for the sake of driving preposterously large cars -- that kind of thing.
And on the face of it, it sounds reasonable, doesn't it. It seems like animals have to do whatever they can to survive as a species, while we have the luxury of killing each other off and not really batting an eye, species-survival-wise. But evolution doesn't work that way, unfortunately. Each animals seeks to ensure its survival and that of immediate relatives. There's an inborn need to see your genetic material survive, but not necessarily those of mere species-mates.
Not that the example of these animals should be a justification for our behavior. That would be falling into what psychologists call the "naturalistic fallacy," which is the assumption that anything "natural" is inherently good. You see this on products everywhere -- look , these have natural ingredients! So you know they're good! Of course, cyanide is a natural ingredient. Not necessarily good, at least for humans.
So I'm not saying we should feel OK about killing each other because animals do. And I'm not saying that we should feel bad for killing each other because animals don't (in part because they do). I'm thinking that maybe we shouldn't compare ourselves to animals at all. It's kind of a different thing. A different ANIMAL, even! HA HA HA HA! HA ha ha ... ha ha ... ha ... (sigh).
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Things I Hate: Needlessly Misspelled Names
Names are always a good conversation topic. Doesn't matter who you're talking to -- you can always eat up about half an hour talking about names. But lately, I've noticed that the typical conversation pattern of "I like this name, I don't like this name" has given way to "I know this one woman who has the stupidest name ..."
It's an epidemic, America. It's an epidemic wrapped in crisis and smothered with panic sauce. You are getting worse and worse at naming your children.
There are many ways you can go with stupid names. You can choose a trendy name like Madison or Jordan or Colby or Chase or Dakota. That's annoying, but you can hardly get too upset about that -- partially because it's not exactly considered acceptable to scream at poorly named 3-year-olds in the mall, but mostly because you have to save your precious anger energy for the true affront to all that is good and holy: the needlessly misspelled name.
According to my exhaustive studies, the problem with needlessly misspelled names began about 30 years ago or so. I've now met two 30-ish people where I work (let's call it FLaw), both with needlessly misspelled names.
Actually, I've seen many others since then, but these two were especially outstanding. See, most of the time, the needlessly mispelled names take the form of a "Jordin" instead of "Jordan," a "Chrystyne" instead of "Christine," a "DjawsufffffFFFF" instead of "Joseph." They're annoying, lame attempts to be different, to be sure, but at least you can sort of tell what name they were trying to go for.
Not so for my FLaw co-worker Jacque. Looks normal enough, right? Except that it's pronounced "Jackie," and it's a woman. Sigh. What the hell's the point of that? Presumably, her full name is Jacqueline. Why would you abbreviate that into a different name entirely, but pronounce it like the conventional nickname for Jacqueline? If that's the way it works, fine, then I'm going to call my kid "Andrew" and then "And" for short. It's pronounced "Andy," but spelled "And." Meet my kid And.
This kind of thing accomplishes nothing, besides a lifetime off frustration for the name-holder. Jacque seems like a very nice person, and I'm sure she's sick to death of having the same conversation about her name every time she meets someone now. "Yes, I know it looks like I'm a French guy. But it's pronounced 'Jackie.' Yes, I know my parents were idiots."
That one's baffling, but I'm not sure it's extremely pretentious. I usually have a pretty finely tuned pretenti-o-meter, and Jacque's name scores a little bit of pretension just because it sounds French (anything French is a little bit pretentious by definition), but it's mostly just confusing.
The next one, though, blows Jacque out of the water as far as pretentio-goodness. When I heard this one, my pretent-o-meter started spinning around and smoking. It's pretentious with a capital P, plus a capital R, capital E, capital T, and so forth.
There was this woman at FLaw who spelled her name "Kristen." So people, perhaps foolishly, figured her name was "Kristen." But she was always very quick to correct us -- "It's actually pronounced 'Shisteen.'" Say what?
"Shisteen" out of "Kristen"? You're shisting me. No, it's true. And when I heard that she adopted that pronunciation in college (the time when most insufferably pretentious things occur), because she felt it was more accurate as far as how they pronounce it in Norway or Denmark or Tajikistan or Ohio or wherever her family comes from originally -- wow. That takes big brass balls of glistening pretension.
Now, I'm all for being proud of your heritage. But not if it means punishing everyone you meet in the process with a needlessly difficult name. You see, Shisteen, in America we have this system by which certain words and letters correspond with certain sounds. It's efficient, it's well-accepted, and it generally keeps the wheels of commerce turning. We don't really have a good reason to change it. The fact that your ancestors had a different system doesn't exactly cut it.
I guess I feel especially strong about this because my last name is so difficult. But I didn't choose it; I just have to live with it. I have to take ten minutes spelling it out very carefully to every customer-service rep I meet. If I could just be a nice, anonymous "Smith" I probably could've saved hundreds of hours per year. I then could have used those hours to write a book called "The Secret to Happiness: Simple Names" and already become fabulously wealthy. But no -- instead I'm doomed to spend my days yelling to people over the phone "No, 'E' as in egg! Egg!"
And then to see someone who had a normal name and then gave it up for a difficult one -- it's like living your life with only one eye and then meeting someone who intentionally gouged their eye out. "What the hell are you doing?" I would say. "You were living the dream and you chose the nightmare!"
Maybe she actually enjoys those long conversations where you have to correct people about the pronunciation of your name. Maybe she savors the words "No, it's actually pronounced ..." as they come tripping off her tongue.
Whether she did it for fun or not, when she changed the pronunciation of her name, she made a strong, binding, lifelong commitment to being a pretentious smart-ass. Some people adopt a pretentious accent, or wear a pretentious wardrobe, or work hard to cultivate an attitude of intellectual superiority. Those people look like amateurs compared to our friend Kristen/Shisteen. Putting pretension is your very name -- you don't get any more committed than that.
Who knows, maybe I doth protest too much. Perhaps I'm just jealous of people like Shisteen who are able to commit themselves to a lifelong mission. Maybe I should change my name to "Bob" and then tell people "it's actually pronounced 'OO-arr-WACK-Zeeble-boo!'" It's the traditional Latvian pronunciation, idiot. Geez.
It's an epidemic, America. It's an epidemic wrapped in crisis and smothered with panic sauce. You are getting worse and worse at naming your children.
There are many ways you can go with stupid names. You can choose a trendy name like Madison or Jordan or Colby or Chase or Dakota. That's annoying, but you can hardly get too upset about that -- partially because it's not exactly considered acceptable to scream at poorly named 3-year-olds in the mall, but mostly because you have to save your precious anger energy for the true affront to all that is good and holy: the needlessly misspelled name.
According to my exhaustive studies, the problem with needlessly misspelled names began about 30 years ago or so. I've now met two 30-ish people where I work (let's call it FLaw), both with needlessly misspelled names.
Actually, I've seen many others since then, but these two were especially outstanding. See, most of the time, the needlessly mispelled names take the form of a "Jordin" instead of "Jordan," a "Chrystyne" instead of "Christine," a "DjawsufffffFFFF" instead of "Joseph." They're annoying, lame attempts to be different, to be sure, but at least you can sort of tell what name they were trying to go for.
Not so for my FLaw co-worker Jacque. Looks normal enough, right? Except that it's pronounced "Jackie," and it's a woman. Sigh. What the hell's the point of that? Presumably, her full name is Jacqueline. Why would you abbreviate that into a different name entirely, but pronounce it like the conventional nickname for Jacqueline? If that's the way it works, fine, then I'm going to call my kid "Andrew" and then "And" for short. It's pronounced "Andy," but spelled "And." Meet my kid And.
This kind of thing accomplishes nothing, besides a lifetime off frustration for the name-holder. Jacque seems like a very nice person, and I'm sure she's sick to death of having the same conversation about her name every time she meets someone now. "Yes, I know it looks like I'm a French guy. But it's pronounced 'Jackie.' Yes, I know my parents were idiots."
That one's baffling, but I'm not sure it's extremely pretentious. I usually have a pretty finely tuned pretenti-o-meter, and Jacque's name scores a little bit of pretension just because it sounds French (anything French is a little bit pretentious by definition), but it's mostly just confusing.
The next one, though, blows Jacque out of the water as far as pretentio-goodness. When I heard this one, my pretent-o-meter started spinning around and smoking. It's pretentious with a capital P, plus a capital R, capital E, capital T, and so forth.
There was this woman at FLaw who spelled her name "Kristen." So people, perhaps foolishly, figured her name was "Kristen." But she was always very quick to correct us -- "It's actually pronounced 'Shisteen.'" Say what?
"Shisteen" out of "Kristen"? You're shisting me. No, it's true. And when I heard that she adopted that pronunciation in college (the time when most insufferably pretentious things occur), because she felt it was more accurate as far as how they pronounce it in Norway or Denmark or Tajikistan or Ohio or wherever her family comes from originally -- wow. That takes big brass balls of glistening pretension.
Now, I'm all for being proud of your heritage. But not if it means punishing everyone you meet in the process with a needlessly difficult name. You see, Shisteen, in America we have this system by which certain words and letters correspond with certain sounds. It's efficient, it's well-accepted, and it generally keeps the wheels of commerce turning. We don't really have a good reason to change it. The fact that your ancestors had a different system doesn't exactly cut it.
I guess I feel especially strong about this because my last name is so difficult. But I didn't choose it; I just have to live with it. I have to take ten minutes spelling it out very carefully to every customer-service rep I meet. If I could just be a nice, anonymous "Smith" I probably could've saved hundreds of hours per year. I then could have used those hours to write a book called "The Secret to Happiness: Simple Names" and already become fabulously wealthy. But no -- instead I'm doomed to spend my days yelling to people over the phone "No, 'E' as in egg! Egg!"
And then to see someone who had a normal name and then gave it up for a difficult one -- it's like living your life with only one eye and then meeting someone who intentionally gouged their eye out. "What the hell are you doing?" I would say. "You were living the dream and you chose the nightmare!"
Maybe she actually enjoys those long conversations where you have to correct people about the pronunciation of your name. Maybe she savors the words "No, it's actually pronounced ..." as they come tripping off her tongue.
Whether she did it for fun or not, when she changed the pronunciation of her name, she made a strong, binding, lifelong commitment to being a pretentious smart-ass. Some people adopt a pretentious accent, or wear a pretentious wardrobe, or work hard to cultivate an attitude of intellectual superiority. Those people look like amateurs compared to our friend Kristen/Shisteen. Putting pretension is your very name -- you don't get any more committed than that.
Who knows, maybe I doth protest too much. Perhaps I'm just jealous of people like Shisteen who are able to commit themselves to a lifelong mission. Maybe I should change my name to "Bob" and then tell people "it's actually pronounced 'OO-arr-WACK-Zeeble-boo!'" It's the traditional Latvian pronunciation, idiot. Geez.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Things to Like About America
It's well-known that us Americans don't like to acknowledge that other countries exist, unless, of course, we need to bomb them. The thing is, looking at other countires can be depressing (especially the bombed ones). Some are much worse off than us, starving and dying and such, and that makes us feel bad. One mention of Darfur on the radio and you almost feel guilty for speeding your Hummer down to the Consume-o-mart to buy your hundredth pair of shoes made by Chinese child laborers. Almost.
And fellow developed countries don't help. They may not be as rich or powerful as us, but somehow, without even letting us know, they sneakily end up solving a lot of the problems that still plague us. No one in England is worrying too much about the abortion issue. There's no health-care crisis in France. And Finland is so wealthy, successful and crime-free that the Finnish have nothing to be sad about at all, which apparently makes them very depressed. Poor guys.
But there are a few things that should make any American's chest swell and heart pump blood colored red, white and blue. There are a few things that make even liberal America-hating baby-eaters like myself shed a joyful tear in the shape of an eagle. Yes, Virginia, there are a few things that the good ol' U.S. of A. does better than all the Finlands and Belgiums and Central African Republics combined. And they are:
1. BATHROOM AMENITIES: OK, apparently Japan does these well. But every other foreign country I've been to had shit for bathrooms. Literally -- every single one had toilets, sinks, and showers made entirely out of shit. When you had to do your business, you'd do it and then carefully mold it so that it fit into the other furnishings. Word to the wise foreign traveler: Always bring lots of plastic gloves. And a kiln wouldn't hurt.
Actually, what you typically get in foreign countries is no hot water. And showers aren't showers so much as they're detachable spigots connected to a tub by a hose about two feet long. So if you like your showers lying down, in cold water, you my friend, are in for a treat.
Toilets aren't much better. Overseas you get a lot of the "eternal flush" thing where the toilet slowly fills up with water for days. How does it keep filling up, but never get full, you wonder? (And then your mind EXPLODES.) There's something quietly sinister and otherworldly about the eternal flush. It's like an axe murderer who's coming at you so slowly that even if you're staring at him you can't see him move. Or maybe not.
2) TELEVISION: If you're lucky enough to get cable in a European country, you know how many channels you get? Twelve! Wow! That's enough to fill, five, maybe ten minutes per day! Meanwhile, in America, even homeless people have digital cable boxes with 5,000 channels each. I'm no math whiz, but I'm pretty sure than 5,000 is about a million times larger than 12.
Now I hear you literati already. "More TV is a good thing?!?" you scoff, nearly spilling your cabernet all over your Harold Pinter fan club T-shirt. "Hasn't television already destroyed American discourse?" To that I say, "No, and you know why? Because you are a poophead. Heh, heh, heh. Heh, heh, heh. Poop."
Seriously, though, have you checked out TV recently? It's not wall-to-wall "Three's Company" reruns like in the old days. My cable has two, count 'em two, PBSes. I also have the Discovery Channel, Discovery Health, Discovery Times, Discovery Science, Discovery Philology, Discovery Kazakh Poetry, and a whole channel devoted to nothing but video footage of Bunsen burners. There is a wonderful network called History International, which is just like the History Channel except it has 2,300% fewer shows about World War II. (They still have some.)
Sure, 80% of TV is crap. But 80% of everything is crap. Ever been to a bookstore? Yeah, you can still find Dostoyevsky, but you have to go past several acres of books about how to lose weight while continuing to eat like the disgusting slob you are.
And you know what else? You can't blame television for dumbing down America, because America was always as stupid as it is now. You might not remember clearly, because your memories are sugar-coated, but there was no time in history when discourse was actually elevated. Life in the '50s was not all Edward R. Murrow slowly and gray-ly discussing foreign policy with Adlai Stevenson. Most people switched away from that and watched boxers beat the shit out of each other for fun.
But then, as now, there were pockets of smarties smart-ing it up, and God bless 'em. They're always there to work and strive and harangue and sometimes their messages break through to the dummies watching boxing or Ultimate Fighting or what have you. Then the world changes, usually for the better. TV is simply the messenger letting the sheltered smarties know how the rest of America lives. Don't shoot it.
Man, I've gone far afield of my point. My point was that America does TV great and big and bold, and we should be proud of that. And, uh, we got the bathroom thing going for us too. We don't do endings of Web log posts well though. At least, I don't.
And fellow developed countries don't help. They may not be as rich or powerful as us, but somehow, without even letting us know, they sneakily end up solving a lot of the problems that still plague us. No one in England is worrying too much about the abortion issue. There's no health-care crisis in France. And Finland is so wealthy, successful and crime-free that the Finnish have nothing to be sad about at all, which apparently makes them very depressed. Poor guys.
But there are a few things that should make any American's chest swell and heart pump blood colored red, white and blue. There are a few things that make even liberal America-hating baby-eaters like myself shed a joyful tear in the shape of an eagle. Yes, Virginia, there are a few things that the good ol' U.S. of A. does better than all the Finlands and Belgiums and Central African Republics combined. And they are:
1. BATHROOM AMENITIES: OK, apparently Japan does these well. But every other foreign country I've been to had shit for bathrooms. Literally -- every single one had toilets, sinks, and showers made entirely out of shit. When you had to do your business, you'd do it and then carefully mold it so that it fit into the other furnishings. Word to the wise foreign traveler: Always bring lots of plastic gloves. And a kiln wouldn't hurt.
Actually, what you typically get in foreign countries is no hot water. And showers aren't showers so much as they're detachable spigots connected to a tub by a hose about two feet long. So if you like your showers lying down, in cold water, you my friend, are in for a treat.
Toilets aren't much better. Overseas you get a lot of the "eternal flush" thing where the toilet slowly fills up with water for days. How does it keep filling up, but never get full, you wonder? (And then your mind EXPLODES.) There's something quietly sinister and otherworldly about the eternal flush. It's like an axe murderer who's coming at you so slowly that even if you're staring at him you can't see him move. Or maybe not.
2) TELEVISION: If you're lucky enough to get cable in a European country, you know how many channels you get? Twelve! Wow! That's enough to fill, five, maybe ten minutes per day! Meanwhile, in America, even homeless people have digital cable boxes with 5,000 channels each. I'm no math whiz, but I'm pretty sure than 5,000 is about a million times larger than 12.
Now I hear you literati already. "More TV is a good thing?!?" you scoff, nearly spilling your cabernet all over your Harold Pinter fan club T-shirt. "Hasn't television already destroyed American discourse?" To that I say, "No, and you know why? Because you are a poophead. Heh, heh, heh. Heh, heh, heh. Poop."
Seriously, though, have you checked out TV recently? It's not wall-to-wall "Three's Company" reruns like in the old days. My cable has two, count 'em two, PBSes. I also have the Discovery Channel, Discovery Health, Discovery Times, Discovery Science, Discovery Philology, Discovery Kazakh Poetry, and a whole channel devoted to nothing but video footage of Bunsen burners. There is a wonderful network called History International, which is just like the History Channel except it has 2,300% fewer shows about World War II. (They still have some.)
Sure, 80% of TV is crap. But 80% of everything is crap. Ever been to a bookstore? Yeah, you can still find Dostoyevsky, but you have to go past several acres of books about how to lose weight while continuing to eat like the disgusting slob you are.
And you know what else? You can't blame television for dumbing down America, because America was always as stupid as it is now. You might not remember clearly, because your memories are sugar-coated, but there was no time in history when discourse was actually elevated. Life in the '50s was not all Edward R. Murrow slowly and gray-ly discussing foreign policy with Adlai Stevenson. Most people switched away from that and watched boxers beat the shit out of each other for fun.
But then, as now, there were pockets of smarties smart-ing it up, and God bless 'em. They're always there to work and strive and harangue and sometimes their messages break through to the dummies watching boxing or Ultimate Fighting or what have you. Then the world changes, usually for the better. TV is simply the messenger letting the sheltered smarties know how the rest of America lives. Don't shoot it.
Man, I've gone far afield of my point. My point was that America does TV great and big and bold, and we should be proud of that. And, uh, we got the bathroom thing going for us too. We don't do endings of Web log posts well though. At least, I don't.
Friday, October 19, 2007
What the World Needs Now Is Plague, Sweet Plague
The real problem with the world today is that there are too many damn people. The human population is increasing exponentially, and I’m not sure how long the planet can sustain us. A good plague would solve that. Maybe it could kill off a few billion people and get us to a more manageable level.
But I wouldn’t want it to affect anyone I know. Or any countries that I like. Maybe it should happen in Bangladesh. I’ve never been there, I don’t know much about it, and I know it’s crazy overcrowded. I certainly have nothing against Bangladesh, but you gotta start somewhere.
But that won’t work, will it. Wiping out Bangladesh wouldn’t be nearly enough, because the way the human population is expanding, we would replace the Bangladeshianians within a matter of years.
Hm, maybe it would be better just to make a whole bunch of people infertile. That would work better. And no one who’s alive would have to die, so it would be a lot less cruel, too. Sure, it would be very sad for people who always wanted to have kids but can’t, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few dreams.
Why am I talking this crazy talk, you ask? Well, it’s all a load of crap, to be sure, but it does get at something I’m seriously concerned about. I am perpetually frightened for our species. Eventually, one way or another, there will just be too damn many of us for this planet to handle. We’re going to outstrip our environment somehow. Any species growing as fast as we are is trouble, and that’s trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for “catastrophe.”
My worries are based in well-accepted science, thank you very much. See, the world is made up hundred zillion little ecosystem cycles in the natural world, all carefully balanced, all interacting with each other. Having one species come out of nowhere and dominate can ruin everything. A wolf that becomes too good at killing deer will eventually eat up all the deer and then have no more food source.
The point is that too much success can ruin a species, and while we may be one hell of a smart species, we’re subject to the same rules. In the history of the natural world, extinction is common, and we’re not immune from it. This is seriously how I look at things. I am lots of fun to be around, let me tell you.
But I honestly don’t think it’s that crazy of a perspective. Like it or not, we do depend on natural cycles for survival. Granted, the wolf example isn’t a great one, because we're probably not going to run out of food for ourselves too soon. We have sorta made our own little ecosystems that are under our control, through agriculture and animal husbandry. So in one sense, we solved the problem. But now the greenhouse gases that we pump into the atmosphere are fucking things up. So we’re back to threatening ourselves with our own success.
Sometimes I look at global warming this way: Think of the world as an organism (this perspective, by the way, is known as the Gaia hypothesis). All large organisms have other little organisms inside them. Humans have tons of little amoebae and paramecia and who the hell knows what else inside us, swimming around and not really affecting us one way or another. Most are harmless, but occasionally you get a nasty one, and then you get a disease.
Humans, and indeed all other species, are microbes within this Earth organism. All other species, so far, have not affected the Earth one way or another. But now the human species is becoming a virulent little mofo. We’re expanding rapidly and taking over the Earth, much the way a virus expands rapidly within a host and takes over. The Earth responds by raising its surface temperature, much the way we get fevers. The point of a fever is to make the place inhospitable for the bug, to essentially kill it off.
That’s what global warming is for, to kill us off. It’s the Earth’s own self-regulating mechanism for doing what I was talking about before, getting our species to a more manageable, sustainable level.
Normally, plagues are good for this sort of thing, as I mentioned above. They’re the Earth’s white blood cells, keeping a population down before it can go past a tipping point into becoming dangerous. But we keep evolving these resistances to these plagues, through modern medicine. So the Earth’s only recourse is to turn up the heat and see what happens.
Of course, we’re talking in terms of geological time here. In geological time, our switch from harmlessness to virulence has been unbelievably fast, within the last 100 years or so. So the killing-off process will be similarly fast by geological time standards, but slow by our standards. Maybe temperatures will get hotter and hotter, and more and more parts of the world will become too hot to live in. Then those people will have to move somewhere, so they’ll crowd to the North.
Frankly, there’s plenty of open space in Canada and Russia, so we maybe actually have room for these folks. But like ecosystems, economies also work best when there’s a measure of stability. Think what crazy flux everything will be in if people have to abandon Texas en masse and move to Canada. Do you think the Canadians want about bunch of Texans around? Canadians are nice, but not that nice.
That’s a facile example, but you get the idea. We don’t know what kind of chaos that global warming is going to cause. It’s such a fundamental change that it will affect every aspect of our lives and our societies.
All this is why the environment is my number-one issue, and always has been. I’m not saying that what we’re doing to the planet will necessarily destroy it, but there’s the threat there of such widespread, cataclysmic change that will have ripple effects everywhere else, and that frightens the shit out of me. And frankly, it trumps everything else.
Take the Iraq War, for example. It’s very serious and very tragic, no doubt. But the human species has weathered serious, tragic wars before. I’m confident we can do it again, albeit with more scars and probably more wars to follow.
Meanwhile, our species has never faced something like global warming before, and I’m not so sure how well we’ll do. I’m sure we’ll survive in some form, but not the way we are now if we don’t make some serious changes fast. That’s scary. That could mean famines, economic collapses – who knows what.
This is why I’m a strident environmentalist – it’s totally self-interest. Or more precisely, interest in humanity. I don’t really give a crap about the planet per se. I give a crap about it because the species I love, human beings, depends on it for survival. It’s sort of like the fact that I care about the chair I’m sitting on. This chair doesn’t do much for me in itself, but if it were suddenly taken away, I’d fall and break my tailbone. I don’t want humanity to fall and break its collective tailbone. (OK, I took that too far.)
I’m not even that big on nature, exactly. It can look quite nice in small doses, but I find it looks best through the window of a comfortable hotel room. I’m not outdoorsy – I’m indoorsy. I can find my way around the indoors amazingly well, surviving only on the food and water I can forage together from refrigerators and food courts.
So yeah, I’ve been made soft by the comforts of modern life. I like them and I sure don’t want to give them up through some kind of man-made catastrophe that returns us to the Stone Age. So if we can make small changes now to stave off the big changes we might suffer down the road, I’m all for it. More solar panels and wind farms? Sure. Fuel-efficient cars? You betcha. Change to fluorescent bulbs? I’m on it. Maybe it’s a pain to make these adjustments, but it’s much better than the alternative. Granted, I don’t know what that alternative will be, but the odds are it won’t be pleasant.
But I wouldn’t want it to affect anyone I know. Or any countries that I like. Maybe it should happen in Bangladesh. I’ve never been there, I don’t know much about it, and I know it’s crazy overcrowded. I certainly have nothing against Bangladesh, but you gotta start somewhere.
But that won’t work, will it. Wiping out Bangladesh wouldn’t be nearly enough, because the way the human population is expanding, we would replace the Bangladeshianians within a matter of years.
Hm, maybe it would be better just to make a whole bunch of people infertile. That would work better. And no one who’s alive would have to die, so it would be a lot less cruel, too. Sure, it would be very sad for people who always wanted to have kids but can’t, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few dreams.
Why am I talking this crazy talk, you ask? Well, it’s all a load of crap, to be sure, but it does get at something I’m seriously concerned about. I am perpetually frightened for our species. Eventually, one way or another, there will just be too damn many of us for this planet to handle. We’re going to outstrip our environment somehow. Any species growing as fast as we are is trouble, and that’s trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for “catastrophe.”
My worries are based in well-accepted science, thank you very much. See, the world is made up hundred zillion little ecosystem cycles in the natural world, all carefully balanced, all interacting with each other. Having one species come out of nowhere and dominate can ruin everything. A wolf that becomes too good at killing deer will eventually eat up all the deer and then have no more food source.
The point is that too much success can ruin a species, and while we may be one hell of a smart species, we’re subject to the same rules. In the history of the natural world, extinction is common, and we’re not immune from it. This is seriously how I look at things. I am lots of fun to be around, let me tell you.
But I honestly don’t think it’s that crazy of a perspective. Like it or not, we do depend on natural cycles for survival. Granted, the wolf example isn’t a great one, because we're probably not going to run out of food for ourselves too soon. We have sorta made our own little ecosystems that are under our control, through agriculture and animal husbandry. So in one sense, we solved the problem. But now the greenhouse gases that we pump into the atmosphere are fucking things up. So we’re back to threatening ourselves with our own success.
Sometimes I look at global warming this way: Think of the world as an organism (this perspective, by the way, is known as the Gaia hypothesis). All large organisms have other little organisms inside them. Humans have tons of little amoebae and paramecia and who the hell knows what else inside us, swimming around and not really affecting us one way or another. Most are harmless, but occasionally you get a nasty one, and then you get a disease.
Humans, and indeed all other species, are microbes within this Earth organism. All other species, so far, have not affected the Earth one way or another. But now the human species is becoming a virulent little mofo. We’re expanding rapidly and taking over the Earth, much the way a virus expands rapidly within a host and takes over. The Earth responds by raising its surface temperature, much the way we get fevers. The point of a fever is to make the place inhospitable for the bug, to essentially kill it off.
That’s what global warming is for, to kill us off. It’s the Earth’s own self-regulating mechanism for doing what I was talking about before, getting our species to a more manageable, sustainable level.
Normally, plagues are good for this sort of thing, as I mentioned above. They’re the Earth’s white blood cells, keeping a population down before it can go past a tipping point into becoming dangerous. But we keep evolving these resistances to these plagues, through modern medicine. So the Earth’s only recourse is to turn up the heat and see what happens.
Of course, we’re talking in terms of geological time here. In geological time, our switch from harmlessness to virulence has been unbelievably fast, within the last 100 years or so. So the killing-off process will be similarly fast by geological time standards, but slow by our standards. Maybe temperatures will get hotter and hotter, and more and more parts of the world will become too hot to live in. Then those people will have to move somewhere, so they’ll crowd to the North.
Frankly, there’s plenty of open space in Canada and Russia, so we maybe actually have room for these folks. But like ecosystems, economies also work best when there’s a measure of stability. Think what crazy flux everything will be in if people have to abandon Texas en masse and move to Canada. Do you think the Canadians want about bunch of Texans around? Canadians are nice, but not that nice.
That’s a facile example, but you get the idea. We don’t know what kind of chaos that global warming is going to cause. It’s such a fundamental change that it will affect every aspect of our lives and our societies.
All this is why the environment is my number-one issue, and always has been. I’m not saying that what we’re doing to the planet will necessarily destroy it, but there’s the threat there of such widespread, cataclysmic change that will have ripple effects everywhere else, and that frightens the shit out of me. And frankly, it trumps everything else.
Take the Iraq War, for example. It’s very serious and very tragic, no doubt. But the human species has weathered serious, tragic wars before. I’m confident we can do it again, albeit with more scars and probably more wars to follow.
Meanwhile, our species has never faced something like global warming before, and I’m not so sure how well we’ll do. I’m sure we’ll survive in some form, but not the way we are now if we don’t make some serious changes fast. That’s scary. That could mean famines, economic collapses – who knows what.
This is why I’m a strident environmentalist – it’s totally self-interest. Or more precisely, interest in humanity. I don’t really give a crap about the planet per se. I give a crap about it because the species I love, human beings, depends on it for survival. It’s sort of like the fact that I care about the chair I’m sitting on. This chair doesn’t do much for me in itself, but if it were suddenly taken away, I’d fall and break my tailbone. I don’t want humanity to fall and break its collective tailbone. (OK, I took that too far.)
I’m not even that big on nature, exactly. It can look quite nice in small doses, but I find it looks best through the window of a comfortable hotel room. I’m not outdoorsy – I’m indoorsy. I can find my way around the indoors amazingly well, surviving only on the food and water I can forage together from refrigerators and food courts.
So yeah, I’ve been made soft by the comforts of modern life. I like them and I sure don’t want to give them up through some kind of man-made catastrophe that returns us to the Stone Age. So if we can make small changes now to stave off the big changes we might suffer down the road, I’m all for it. More solar panels and wind farms? Sure. Fuel-efficient cars? You betcha. Change to fluorescent bulbs? I’m on it. Maybe it’s a pain to make these adjustments, but it’s much better than the alternative. Granted, I don’t know what that alternative will be, but the odds are it won’t be pleasant.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Things I Hate: Vegas
I was approached by my boss yesterday and asked if I wanted to go on a trip. "Sure!" I said, thinking he was referring to one our typical trips, which involves meeting with a client in Poughkeepsie or Bridgeport or Gary, Indiana and having day-long meetings about their new site. That I'd enjoy. But then he revealed that he was actually talking about a mid-week conference in Vegas. "I'll pass," I said.
I hate Vegas. I hate everything about it. I had a bad experience there, but it wasn't the type you think. I didn't get rip-roaring drunk and pass out on the street or get crabs from a two-dollar hooker or anything. What happened was that I was surrounded the whole time by the hollow artificiality that is Vegas.
Everything I saw was fake in one way or another, often a bald-faced copy something great somewhere else. It's a whole city "faux," cheapness (often cheapness that cost a lot money, paradoxically), that is badly masquerading as elegance. And not in a kitschy fun way. It's fake in a calculated, focus-grouped sort way. When I was there, I felt manipulated just walking down the street.
And the streets I've walked were the newer Disneyland-for-adults part -- maybe if I had been in the legendary grungy old part I wouldn't have felt this way. Instead, I would probably felt sad and disgusted. I guess that's not a lot better.
I'm sure there are parts Vegas that I could enjoy. It's a big place, after all. But I know I wouldn't see those parts if I went on this junket. See, I would apparently be going with a nice, well-meaning coworker mine who would be the only person I know there. He would want to hit the strip after the meetings, and being a nice person (no, really, I swear), I would probably feel obligated to go. I would walk around and feel uncomfortable everywhere. We would hit the big, touristy bars, spend way too much, feel like yokels, and meet no one. Whee.
Perhaps I'd meet a few people at these conferences and maybe go out with them -- but that would mean lots forced, strained small talk. Or, more likely, they'd turn out to be obnoxious drunks and I would spend the whole time being irritated and wanting to escape.
Obviously, I'm not that wild about being drunk in public. Or, moreover, being around drunks in public. Young drunk people are the worst people in the . In a place like Vegas, young people get full license to let their true selves let loose, which means acting like the insufferable pricks they truly are. A whole city full them does not sound like a good time to me.
But I'm also not wild about gambling. I've gone to a few casinos and occasionally had a good time. But the problem is that the costs are not worth the benefits for me. When I win some money, I'm sorta like, "Hey, that's not bad. Now I can afford one those horribly overpriced cocktails." If I lose the same amount money, I'm more like "Jesus, what's wrong with me! I blew that money on nothing! Fuck!" Maybe I have a bit a bias towards negativity.
And there are other issues at work here. There's the conference itself, which sounds like several days nonstop awkward mingling. I don't know if you've ever been to an "industry event," but it's awful. It's like a party where you can't have fun. You can't be yourself; you have to be your work persona. You have to "network," which is a term that is appropriately soulless and mechanical-sounding for what happens. You have to pretend like you actually give a shit about what you do for a living, carefully hiding the fact that you really just go through the motions and then collect a check.
And then there's the simple fact that Vegas is unbelievably expensive. That's been my experience, anyway. Long gone are the days when you got a free shrimp buffet just for setting foot in a casino. Maybe those places are still out there, but I really don't want to sift through the rest it to find them.
And there's also my contrarian nature at work here. The assumption is that everyone loves Vegas. In fact, the site for this conference says so explicitly: "Everyone loves Vegas!" That's the kind thing that invariably makes me want to say, "Well, I hate Vegas. And I want you to hate it too, now." Any time it's expressed as a universal given that something is fun, I have the need to pop that balloon. I don't know why.
Maybe it's the programming that I feel everyone has succumbed to, the whole mythology that the Vegas marketing whizzes have created. I find all that bullshit very grating: Not only does everyone love Vegas, but it's the place to go crazy! Woo! What happens here, stays here! Like when the hooker you bring to your hotel room ODs on coke and pukes blood! Uh-oh! Well, what happens here, stays here!
And I don't think it's because I'm a prude -- I believe people should have the right to gamble and get drunk on the streets and snort coke with a hooker who then bleeds through her nose if they damn well please. I just happen to know that that I don't damn well please. I would rather go to Poughkeepsie for day-long meetings. Cuz what happens in Poughkeepsie, stays in Poughkeepsie!
I hate Vegas. I hate everything about it. I had a bad experience there, but it wasn't the type you think. I didn't get rip-roaring drunk and pass out on the street or get crabs from a two-dollar hooker or anything. What happened was that I was surrounded the whole time by the hollow artificiality that is Vegas.
Everything I saw was fake in one way or another, often a bald-faced copy something great somewhere else. It's a whole city "faux," cheapness (often cheapness that cost a lot money, paradoxically), that is badly masquerading as elegance. And not in a kitschy fun way. It's fake in a calculated, focus-grouped sort way. When I was there, I felt manipulated just walking down the street.
And the streets I've walked were the newer Disneyland-for-adults part -- maybe if I had been in the legendary grungy old part I wouldn't have felt this way. Instead, I would probably felt sad and disgusted. I guess that's not a lot better.
I'm sure there are parts Vegas that I could enjoy. It's a big place, after all. But I know I wouldn't see those parts if I went on this junket. See, I would apparently be going with a nice, well-meaning coworker mine who would be the only person I know there. He would want to hit the strip after the meetings, and being a nice person (no, really, I swear), I would probably feel obligated to go. I would walk around and feel uncomfortable everywhere. We would hit the big, touristy bars, spend way too much, feel like yokels, and meet no one. Whee.
Perhaps I'd meet a few people at these conferences and maybe go out with them -- but that would mean lots forced, strained small talk. Or, more likely, they'd turn out to be obnoxious drunks and I would spend the whole time being irritated and wanting to escape.
Obviously, I'm not that wild about being drunk in public. Or, moreover, being around drunks in public. Young drunk people are the worst people in the . In a place like Vegas, young people get full license to let their true selves let loose, which means acting like the insufferable pricks they truly are. A whole city full them does not sound like a good time to me.
But I'm also not wild about gambling. I've gone to a few casinos and occasionally had a good time. But the problem is that the costs are not worth the benefits for me. When I win some money, I'm sorta like, "Hey, that's not bad. Now I can afford one those horribly overpriced cocktails." If I lose the same amount money, I'm more like "Jesus, what's wrong with me! I blew that money on nothing! Fuck!" Maybe I have a bit a bias towards negativity.
And there are other issues at work here. There's the conference itself, which sounds like several days nonstop awkward mingling. I don't know if you've ever been to an "industry event," but it's awful. It's like a party where you can't have fun. You can't be yourself; you have to be your work persona. You have to "network," which is a term that is appropriately soulless and mechanical-sounding for what happens. You have to pretend like you actually give a shit about what you do for a living, carefully hiding the fact that you really just go through the motions and then collect a check.
And then there's the simple fact that Vegas is unbelievably expensive. That's been my experience, anyway. Long gone are the days when you got a free shrimp buffet just for setting foot in a casino. Maybe those places are still out there, but I really don't want to sift through the rest it to find them.
And there's also my contrarian nature at work here. The assumption is that everyone loves Vegas. In fact, the site for this conference says so explicitly: "Everyone loves Vegas!" That's the kind thing that invariably makes me want to say, "Well, I hate Vegas. And I want you to hate it too, now." Any time it's expressed as a universal given that something is fun, I have the need to pop that balloon. I don't know why.
Maybe it's the programming that I feel everyone has succumbed to, the whole mythology that the Vegas marketing whizzes have created. I find all that bullshit very grating: Not only does everyone love Vegas, but it's the place to go crazy! Woo! What happens here, stays here! Like when the hooker you bring to your hotel room ODs on coke and pukes blood! Uh-oh! Well, what happens here, stays here!
And I don't think it's because I'm a prude -- I believe people should have the right to gamble and get drunk on the streets and snort coke with a hooker who then bleeds through her nose if they damn well please. I just happen to know that that I don't damn well please. I would rather go to Poughkeepsie for day-long meetings. Cuz what happens in Poughkeepsie, stays in Poughkeepsie!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Things I Hate: Dane Cook
Every year, the baseball playoffs give me an amazing opportunity to get really, really sick of a few commercials. The entire playoffs are apparently only allowed two or three commercials, played over and over and over and over until your head starts to bleed. This year, the pain reaches a new, exciting level with heaping helpings of Dane Cook. He stars in a bunch of ads showing during the playoffs that try to get you excited about watching the playoffs. (Aren't the playoffs themselves supposed to do that? And moreover, isn't that sort of like McDonald's putting ads inside their own hamburgers? We don't really need to be told to buy the product, guys -- we already bought it.)
Basically, the ads feature him shouting a bunch of cliches about how "Dude, there is only one October!" and gesticulating frantically as clips from previous years play around him. Even if I weren't already watching the playoffs, Dane Cook is not exactly inspiring me to do so. Vince Lombardi he ain't. His demeanor is more one of a frat buddy trying to get you "psyched" to go to a kegger across town. Maybe I'm pretentious, but I like to think of the baseball playoffs as more than a chance to get blitzed and shout "woo!"
Of course, they got Dane Cook because he's popular with the young men. Let's be clear here: Young men do not, and have not ever, known what the hell they're talking about. Dane Cook is not funny and never has been. He's a spazzy frat boy at best. He's the "Don't tase me, bro!" guy without the self-righteousness. (Which doesn't leave much.) I've seen his stand-up -- it's a lot of "Dude, you know when you get really hammered and take home a really ugly girl? We've all been there, right?" No, Mr. Cook, I actually haven't been there. But thanks for bringing up the fact that even what you would find regrettable and beneath your standards would have been a dream come true for me when I was a sad, lovelorn college student.
But anyway, he doesn't do stand-up in the ads, so I suppose I should be thankful for that. But still, it's only going to get more and more grating as the playoffs progress. Last year's most-repeated ad was heaven by comparison -- it was the ad for Chevy (or Ford, or GM, I can never tell the difference) which featured John Cougar Mellencamp singing "Generic John Cougar Mellencamp Song #67578565," which I can only assume was created by loading all of his previous songs on a computer, shaking it vigorously, and then pouring the result onto a tape recorder. You know the one; Ford (or Chevy or GM) still plays it at every opportunity. "The dream is great, and so is America ... We lift dirty things into trucks all day, workin' dumb and hard ... Let the voice of freedom shine out of our big, fat, overfed mouths ... this is our country! (And by "our" I mean GM/Ford/Chevy and other massive multinational conglomerates!) From the East Coast! To the West Coast! To Indiana, where I'm from, cuz I'm just an ordinary hard-workin' American, just like me and you .. see, look, I'm wearin' jeans and everything, and talkin' all down-home ..."
Anyway. The point is that advertisers are shitting bricks over Tivo's ad-skipping capabilities -- well, they deserve it for making crappy ads like this and playing them ad nauseam. (Is that really the point? Well, yes it is, as of now.) And the other point is that Dane Cook needs to die horribly. Maybe he could be tased to death.
Basically, the ads feature him shouting a bunch of cliches about how "Dude, there is only one October!" and gesticulating frantically as clips from previous years play around him. Even if I weren't already watching the playoffs, Dane Cook is not exactly inspiring me to do so. Vince Lombardi he ain't. His demeanor is more one of a frat buddy trying to get you "psyched" to go to a kegger across town. Maybe I'm pretentious, but I like to think of the baseball playoffs as more than a chance to get blitzed and shout "woo!"
Of course, they got Dane Cook because he's popular with the young men. Let's be clear here: Young men do not, and have not ever, known what the hell they're talking about. Dane Cook is not funny and never has been. He's a spazzy frat boy at best. He's the "Don't tase me, bro!" guy without the self-righteousness. (Which doesn't leave much.) I've seen his stand-up -- it's a lot of "Dude, you know when you get really hammered and take home a really ugly girl? We've all been there, right?" No, Mr. Cook, I actually haven't been there. But thanks for bringing up the fact that even what you would find regrettable and beneath your standards would have been a dream come true for me when I was a sad, lovelorn college student.
But anyway, he doesn't do stand-up in the ads, so I suppose I should be thankful for that. But still, it's only going to get more and more grating as the playoffs progress. Last year's most-repeated ad was heaven by comparison -- it was the ad for Chevy (or Ford, or GM, I can never tell the difference) which featured John Cougar Mellencamp singing "Generic John Cougar Mellencamp Song #67578565," which I can only assume was created by loading all of his previous songs on a computer, shaking it vigorously, and then pouring the result onto a tape recorder. You know the one; Ford (or Chevy or GM) still plays it at every opportunity. "The dream is great, and so is America ... We lift dirty things into trucks all day, workin' dumb and hard ... Let the voice of freedom shine out of our big, fat, overfed mouths ... this is our country! (And by "our" I mean GM/Ford/Chevy and other massive multinational conglomerates!) From the East Coast! To the West Coast! To Indiana, where I'm from, cuz I'm just an ordinary hard-workin' American, just like me and you .. see, look, I'm wearin' jeans and everything, and talkin' all down-home ..."
Anyway. The point is that advertisers are shitting bricks over Tivo's ad-skipping capabilities -- well, they deserve it for making crappy ads like this and playing them ad nauseam. (Is that really the point? Well, yes it is, as of now.) And the other point is that Dane Cook needs to die horribly. Maybe he could be tased to death.
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