Monday, December 31, 2007

Sour Shoes

It's about time I wrote about Mikey DelCampo, aka, Sour Shoes, a Stern misfit. Unlike the Wack Pack, SS is talented and has a sense of pop history. I listened to his recent holiday show and broke out laughing so many times and had a smile on my mug I'm glad I was working alone. He's been a contributor to the Stern Show for a long time, but was only given his Sirius show fairly recently.

I don't suffer entertainers easily - I walk out on movies all the time. Folks, I listened to his show four times!!!

It's weird to describe what SS does - basically he can play classic rock/pop at the drop of a hat, some impressions, and some wacky voices. For me it's a combination of his deep play list, chops, cultural references, and manic delivery. He edits on the fly - one sec he's riffing on Alan Parsons, and all of a sudden Marv Albert is calling play by play, then without missing a beat Parsons is back. And he does it all impromptu, because callers make their requests and he just goes. In fact, the holiday show he produced had a girl call in who somehow had knowledge of an old 70's kids show, "New Zoo Revue." And he riffed on it!

The guy's also kind of a maniac; he's 30+, lives with his parents and is practically a virgin. No wonder he's got so many skills. But what's super funny is he'll call the Stern Show which airs at 7am EST and be wailing away, and Howard, Artie or Fred will just crack up and say, "Can you imagine what his parents must be thinking, listening to this ruckus this early in the morning?"

Seriously, the dude has issues; Stern said that SS used to follow him around NYC while he was doing his business, until one day he had to read him the riot act. Thankfully, SS continued to call in, evidently, constantly.

His Scotty Ferrall is indistinguishable from the real Ferrall. The guy is so entertaining, and kudos to Stern for giving him his show. Personally, I think he should just have Sour Shoes in the studio, kind of like what talk shows do with a band.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Not My Idea, but I'll Take the Check, Thank You.

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
-T.S. Eliot


I've just watched Naomi Klein on her Charlie Rose book flacking tour, and I must say, while there's no doubting her good intentions, (here I go again), it amazes me how what passes for insight and incisiveness is "just another white liberal's discovery of (fill in the blank)."

Her take on "disaster capitalism" (I can see her editor chiding her, "You need a buzz phrase! You know, like, "The L word," to make it stick), which basically boils down to a catastrophe (natural or human-made), posits that when a population is in calamitous shock that it is a prime time for monetization, baby. So, bomb the fuck out of the Japs and then bomb them with credit cards.

What dope can't see that? What dope hasn't seen that, a loooooong time ago?

It gets better, folks. In 2005 she was evidently on some big fat list of "world's leading intellectuals" or some such poll taken on the net. Whoopee friggin' doo, now brainiacs have an Oscar show cum People's Choice Awards. And although Chomsky came out on top, Camille Paglia, I see, is still around, although she did come in behind Wolfowtiz. Gotdam, I don't think I could live with myself if the world said Wolfie was smarter than me. Oy.

Given her lineage, Klein's prominence is just the natural growth spurt of a pre-ordained chain of events. In fact, one would have been surprised if she had not been successful, what with her blue blood.

Her forte, evidently, is globalization, and I thought it amusing in the least when she was going on about the WTO protests in Seattle a few back. She said, and I paraphrase, that "the irony of it all was that protests were happening worldwide, facilitated by globalized networks... that the protests were really about the march of corporations..." And other such horseshit.

I suppose this marks the latest litcrit fad as a conflation of the mundane and the obvious. My, how out of touch I am.

It also points out how certain people have opportunity before them, and how most people these days really have nothing to say, then plagarize, steal and co-opt. Gladwell's "Tipping Point" is a perfect example; what marketer worth their salt isn't familiar with what he talks about? Even more pernicious is the way in which recycling takes an evil bent, as with Herrnstein & Murray's "The Bell Curve." (Which couched 17th century "scientific" eugenics in a modern-day take and aims its scope at "inferior" mud peeps. Stephen Jay Gould, god love him, blasted Murray [Herrnstein died shortly after publication from intellectual dishonesty] to smithereens. Ah, Gould, where are those who have sipped from your golden cup?)

To her credit, Klein talked about the way Bechtel was monetizing water (I believe in Bolivia) and the way water prices rose 300% and the evil way it was claiming unfair competition when citizens were capturing rain water! What she failed to deconstruct are the ways in which, when corporations install themselves, they are aptly positioned to lobby and institute the system of payoffs in order to leverage their monetary interests into political reality and then subsequent leverages. Talk about unfair competition.

But even more egregious, she passes this "discovery" of hers off as if she were Columbus. The truth is, Alan Snitow produced and directed an excellent doc, Thirst, in 2004. While Klein told Rose that she had been laboring for four years on her book, anyone who's produced a movie -- especially one as auspicious as Thirst which spans several countries -- knows pre-production not to mention research and then raising money (unless one is rich) begins way before production, much less release, the latter sometimes occurring years after production.

I don't fault Klein for putting the topic out on the table for discussion and in fact appreciate it; I do fault her not citing Snitow's work. Surely a non-fiction writer as acclaimed as her ("No Logo") must do hardcore research. How could she not mention Snitow's film? It's not like it was relegated to the doc ghetto, after all, in perfect poetic/ironic symmetry, it aired on PBS's POV, Rose's own network!!!

$ = $ = $ = $ = $ = $ = $ = $

Now the conversation on my part will shift gears, although it relates to Klein's theme, because I want to talk about recent history; the rise of global capital and, specifically, the way it was enacted via its audience. Is it wrong for Klein to say that corporations go forth and run roughshod over the world in the pursuit of capital expansion and profit? Of course not, but one of the "problems" of her kind of analysis is that she falls into the trap of examining symptoms, or re-labeling symptoms as causes, while positing the wrong things as causal agents. Yes, corporations are "bad" and "do bad things", but they are only the expression of what enabled them to do so - an American capitalist system.

For the individual, dis-empowered as they may be, I think it can be persuasively argued that macro arguments such as these obfuscate and further the illusion that there's simply nothing to do. Thus, the, "What can I do, I'm just one person?" syndrome remains unchallenged.

Now drill further; by what means have these corporations extracted their booty from the laity? For my money, that's the trillion dollar question.

First, we have to understand an axiom; that as a basic principle, and insofar as it concerns global capital, nothing is reified in this world without an audience. Global capital as mass consumption defined in absolute, demands large common denominators.

Second, what are the means of capturing said audience?

A brief historical look back is first in order. (I've actually mentioned this before in this blog) It's a favorite question of mine to ask friends, "Only 3 or 4 decades ago, the baby boomers protested against and helped stop a war, ousted an evil president, fought for civil rights, and women's rights. But in the 80's all of that began to radically change with the rise of the Yuppies, Wall Street and the `greed is good' zinger, paving the way toward the present day march of globalization. How did that happen in such a short span of time?"

[By the way, I'm no Marxist and think Marx ultimately got it wrong. And while I think some of his critiques of capitalism are spot on, there's no way Marx - or anyone then - could have foreseen the current manifestation of global capital and the rise of the mega-corps.]

Think about this before you read on for my take, because it is one of the most serious things to consider in our lifetime. It encompasses everything; colonialism, the rise of multi-nationals, foreign policy, co-opted mass media, group-think, mind control (seriously)....

Over the years I've heard many different answers, but the one thing I noticed amongst them all was that they never boiled down to specifics; how this system was funded. (Let's leave the system of state-funded corporate welfare and theft via taxes alone for now. For a roiling critique of that, see: David Cay Johnston's "Perfectly Legal" - highly recommended, although a tough read.)

Here's my take, and it's simplicity itself; I remember being in school in the 80's and walking down Bruin Walk at UCLA. Then, Visa and Mastercard and probably AMEX had tables with freshly scrubbed people handing out applications for credit cards. And they were easy to get.

Fast forward to today, and we can now see the residue of that insidious scheme; record numbers for credit card debt, and a system of slavery so far-reaching that it touches virtually every facet of modern life.

Eighty percent of American households have at least one credit card.
-Source: www.cardweb.com

Total credit card debt in the United States has reached about $665 billion on bank credit cards and about $105 billion on store or gas credit cards. According to the Fed's G19 release, the total is roughly $800 billion.
-Sources: www.cardweb.com and the Federal Reserve

I remember one spring, just before summer break, talking to a friend and asking what her plans were for the summer. "Oh, travel. Europe or Asia." I asked how she, a student, was going to fund such a trip. Her answer pre-figured this entry; "Oh, I'll charge it. You know, us college students, we're the privileged poor..."

And there you have it - too simple, you say?

On the face of it, yes, but when you think about the insidious way credit hooks each and every one of us consumers into the mix, I don't think it's a leap to see how the consumer conditioning finds fertile ground in this scenario.

What I really mean is, Marx got this completely wrong as well; religion isn't the opiate of the masses, it's the ability to get something, and get it now, "painlessly" ... that's the ultimate drug.

This is why it's much easier to punish the laity these days. Commit all kinds of horrendous shit and be the worst administration in history, but as long as the people have cable, McDonald's and their SUVs, they may groan and bitch, but they will not revolt. They will medicate by ... SHOPPING!!! Wasn't it dumbya himself who, after 9/11, urged Americans to go out and shop fer god's sakes? Read: suck on that crack pipe, and even though things are horrible, at least you'll feel better. The Boomers hadn't drunk the Kool Aid - yet - which helps explain why in the halcyon 60's/70's they got up off their asses and did shit, not just talked about it.

That addiction to a "vastly improved" consumer lifestyle provided the impetus for mass marketing on an unprecedented scale. Take Nike, for example. Their timing couldn't have been more perfect, pioneering out-sourcing in the 70's (cheap imports were already an American staple, marked by the, "Oh, `Made in Japan?' That's cheap," signifier), first in Japan, then all throughout Asia, because once the standard of living rose, labor became too expensive in Japan. Which raises another interesting question: What happens when labor has become too expensive everywhere? It's not like there are an unlimited number of undeveloped countries - we may not and probably won't see the end of this string in our lifetimes, but it has built in obsolescence.

The naysaying absolutist Friedman/Rand free-marketers point to raising standards of living for developing countries, completely ignoring business metrics such as total cost of doing business, a highly subjective but, necessary analysis when talking about something as impactful as out-sourcing. In an elementary equation, they'd say having a car(bon)-based transportation system, such as LA, is worth it because it raises standards of living. The immediacy of being able to get somewhere, pick up loads of stuff, then cart it back is, a high luxury. Despite terrible air. It's like saying you can have an Olympic-sized swimming pool, but every day someone is going to show up and piss in it. BUT, you've got an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

The problem is now exacerbated by longevity and intransigence; simply, the familiar. Go into the hood to any Walmart (China's largest customer, the world's largest corporation and with all of the heirs in the top ten richest people in the world) and you'll see the drug-addicted going crazy. Why? Because they can buy a sweatshirt for ten bucks.

And while everyone's implicated, you can't fault the working poor for wanting to pay less, but you can point fingers at mega-corps like Walmart for extracting capital out of local communities and concentrating it in a tiny fraction of the population.

The implications spread out further; schools and an educational system that's simply incompetent insofar as educating kids into the real world with even a basic understanding of real-world economics, mass media (who suck on Walmart's crack pipe) and politicians who are intellectually dishonest about the way globalization wreaks havoc, both here and abroad.

I've gone on too long here, but if you're still with me, the only way to fight back is to consider your dollars as votes, or even, as JT said the other day, as a representation of your energy. Where you place that energy is something to consider.

Beyond a ten buck sweatshirt, and beyond the Klein-esque macro view of globalization, and in an ironic twist, it really does boil down to agency.

Much to Ayn Rand's chagrin.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Zero Degrees of Separation

Beware of those in whom the urge to punish is powerful.
-Goethe

Zero Degrees of Separation looks at the Middle East conflict and the Palestinian Occupation, through the eyes of mixed Palestinian and Israeli gay and lesbian couples. Ezra is against the Occupation, yet he’s an Israeli. His partner, Selim, is a Palestinian whose protests against the Occupation landed him in jail at age 15. Ezra is a simple plumber whose courage and cheek take on prophet–like proportions as he travels across the country risking his life to protest the walls, fences and military checkpoints that divide them. Interwoven with their stories is footage of Elle Flanders' grandparents, who were intimately involved in the founding of the state of Israel. Through these home movies, Flanders artfully retraces her grandparents’ travels as they tour a fledgling nation brimming with pioneering joyous youth, immigrants, refugees and endless open vistas of the Holy Land, contrasting the ideals at the birth of the “holy land” with the reality of today’s Israel, a country mired in the rubble of Occupation.

Just saw this on Sundance and if you can, see it. Beyond the usual rhetoric of Zionist/anti-Zionist dialog, it was really interesting to see the way just regular folks were dealing with the madness of the situation.

It may not be earth-shattering to hear their stories, but anything outside of the mainstream bullshit here in Amerika is a breath of fresh air. The fact that they are gay/lesbian adds another layer.

I recall the first time I heard (either through my friend, Don Bustany, or Ha'aretz) about the faction of Israeli soldiers who are protesting the occupation by refusing to serve. They have of course been suppressed by being thrown in prison. That only furthered my thought that I'd bet the average Israeli and Palestinian just wants all the insanity to stop.

I've been witness to beatings, and they surely don't rival the madness of the Israeli occupation, but I remember the way it made me feel watching it. This is where Fanon's (psychiatric) take on colonialism is incisive in the way it critiques the colonizer's psyche, how it becomes "bestialized." But what happens to those who witness?

If it's a Newtonian given that "For every action..." then one has to ask what indeed happens when someone brutalizes. I mean outside of the given emotion - feeling sadistic, being pissed off, seeking vengeance, feeling bad, etc. Is there another dimension to this situation? What happens to witnesses? (again, outside of feeling?)

I'm reminded of the scientific discovery of the act of observation; that scientists discovered, when observing sub-atomic particles -- the very essence of matter, that the very act of observation changed their behavior. Therefore, Newtonian symmetry mandates that something happens to the observer.

The trouble is that once you see it, you can't unsee it. And once you've seen it, keeping quiet, saying nothing, becomes as political an act as speaking out. There is no innocence. Either way, you're accountable.
-Arundhati Roy

While I love Roy's quote, the fascinating thing to consider here is that something biologically concrete takes place beyond the socio-political construction - within (Without? Both?) the observer.

Ignorance may indeed be bliss, but in this proposition, is it the only refuge?

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Charlie Wilson's War, Screechy Todd and An Unreasonable Man

Two more screenings: CWW was Monday with Aaron Sorkin guesting, ST was tonight, John Logan guesting. While I'm all for ignorant Amerikans wising up, there was something missing from CWW. It was kinda flat, and in that sense, reminded me of American Gangster - it just wasn't that interesting. AG was about a really ruthless muthaphuka. That's about it. And while DePalma's take on Scarface is classic and also about a ruthless mutha, I think it very much points out the differences first in directors and then in renderings. What I mean is, AG, as derived from a biography, is pretty straightforward and Scott treats it as such, but Scarface is fictional, and the bombastic rendering is in perfect hands with Depalma. For instance, given Depalma's movie brat pedigree and reverence for Il Conformista, Nando Scarfiotti's production design is no mistake. Neither is the violence.

Anyway, you'd think a story about a reprobate like Wilson coming around (as much as one of his kind can) would be at least kinda interesting, but - NO surprise - it never considers the pov of mudpeeps. All of the choice reaction shots are reserved for Hanks, for instance, while scanning - replete with mouth agape - at an Afghan refugee camp. (Mike) Nichols then eventually closes out the scene with a panoramic shot of this enormous camp - with Hanks in the foreground. It's still the same as it ever was - all of the suffering in the world of mudpeeps don't mean a gotdamn unless white people think it does.

And I'm a Nichols fan. Although I question his taste in mates, but damn if he didn't cast Emily Blunt who looked kinda annoying in The Devil Wears Prada, but HOT DAMN if she doesn't turn up for this one. I don't know what she did, but she is smokin' here, and I normally don't go for white broads... Evidently she shares Nichols' affliction of choosing bad mates, cuz she's with Michael Boobly. Anyway, the Nichols of CWW needs to ask the Nichols of "Virginia Woolf" and of course, The Graduate, as well as, Catch 22, what time it is.

Oh yeah, Sorkin was a bore.

Here's a gratuitous pic of Blunt to make me feel better.



Screechy Todd made my skin crawl. First, let me just say unequivocally that I grew up on musicals, shit like West Side Story was in our blood in the hood, mainly because we saw mudpeeps on screen. But Singing in the Rain for sure is one of those films that so perfectly captures a feeling, a mood, and certainly one of the golden ages of Hollywood. And it helped that I was in love with Cyd Charisse.

But watching live theater for me has always been a challenge. Beginning in middle school when we had assemblies and they'd stage shows, to grown-up fare.

My brother was a kid when our cousins, who were living with our family at the time and young teens, went to see Phantom. When my brother found out he raised such a stank that they bought tickets and made me take him.

During intermission we didn't say anything except for this:

Me: You liking this?
Bro: (looks down) Uh...

It was excruciating sitting through that shit.

This doesn't mean that live theater can't be extremely moving, but here's where "the play's the thing" truly comes home. Jarry, Pinter and Beckett have managed to make me think of them as artists, while Albee and Williams are so ingrained in the American zeitgeist, that alone is proof of having "good stuff." But even lesser works, such as Bruce Jay Friedman's Steambath have their charm. With that name-dropping out of the way, it's also clear that that last batch of writers don't write musicals.

So it was, O Dear Reader, that I wanted to pull my hair out about ten minutes into Screechy Todd. At 30 minutes in I'd clawed my ears off, and at an hour I fired an RPG at the screen and left. How I lasted 60 is beyond me - I could have been listening to the second installment of The History of Howard Stern fer god's sakes.

Gotdamn, I want my hour back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On to An Unreasonable Man, which I saw on PBS' Independent Lens.

Where do I begin? I can remember extremely heated discussions during the times of Ralph Nader's two presidential bids. And while the filmmakers do a good job of presenting both sides - yes, this is one of those times when it very much is a binary situation - for me, the bottom line is the incompetence of the democraps.

Oh well, nothing to do but post another gratuitous pic of Emily Blunt to feel better.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Kite Runner

Well, this is the "Academy rush" and the screenings are piling up. So, Fish and I saw a screening of The Kite Runner Wednesday, with screenwriter David Benioff participating afterwards. Now, I'm a sucker for films about kids, particularly mud kids. Salaam Bombay, Pixote, Sugarcane Alley, the early childhood segment of Farewell My Concubine, and, above all, the great Don Luis Bunuel's Los Olvidados. While too much has already been said about this beloved book, I'll refrain from talking about plot, there is one particular thing I do want to mention.

That is how much the scene of the child Hasan, (Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada), in the aftermath of trauma and holding onto the chased after and caught kite, is the embodiment of tragedy.

Kids will, if ever, be the last group to be liberated.

nuno

Short one here on Nuno - saw an exhibit on them and was impressed. In a documentary on the company, it showed the meticulous, artisanly approach combined with an (apparently) old school Japanese mentality.

One sterling example of the above; two lil obasans take a long sheet of white fabric (silk?) and spread it on the ground, laying it over a large press type contraption. They take a bucket of nails and pour them out over the fabric, take another sheet of fabric, lay it over the nails, then lock the whole thing down in the press contraption. Next, they take a water hose and wet the entire thing.

When they come back (some days later?) the fabric's dry, and they unlock the press. As they pull the fabric up, we see the method to the madness's fruits: a beautiful abstract pattern of rusted nails.

It somehow seems to me to be a cool blend of old school ways meeting modern design.

nuno exhibit

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

The Great Debaters, remembering Hollywood

One of the fortunate things about living in LA is that if you're into movies, this is the place. Well, truth be told, les enfants de la cinémathèque would say otherwise, but that's left to a soon to be posted piece on a legend of the cinema.

If you know how to work it, you can go to tons of screenings and previews, many of which will have principals come out and talk afterwards. I don't want to give away all of the secrets, but two of the top film schools in the world are here, and one houses one of the largest preservationist archives in the world. They run stuff all the time.

Which is to say that Fish is on the inside track with Townhall LA, and got us into Miramax's - OKAY, "The Weinstein Company's" - very first screening of The Great Debaters. While the movie was fairly straight-ahead and predictable, given that it was inspired by a true story, it was really "enlarged" and embellished as screenwriter Robert Eisele himself said in the post-screening.

This may seem superficial, the fact that I like this junk, but understand, I was born in Hollywood, right on Sunset Boulevard. And I was an asthmatic kid, so Ma would run me into Kaiser so I could mainline adrenaline and breathe. Trouble with that is that I was speeding out like a meth freak. Ma always felt bad for me, so she'd run me to the nearby Thrifty's to get ice cream, and then we'd stroll down Hollywood Boulevard.

And this is the way it was one time; I'm licking my wounds by licking my ice cream, kinda oblivious to the afternoon sun but, all in all, happy to be out of the hospital. (I can't stand it when people use the "proper," "...glad to be out of hospital.") Out of the corner of my ear, I hear Ma say, "Oh, there's Mercedes McCambridge." Not looking up, I ask who that is. "Oh, just an actress."

I didn't pay it much mind as I was just a kid, but years later while in film school we watched the great George Stevens' Giant. And I remembered what Scorsese said about McCambridge on the stallion, and the way Stevens cut from the long shot to the close up of her spurs... and sitting there, in the dark, I remembered that walk on Hollywood Boulevard. In that moment, I was in two places at once.

And that's why it's corny to say but weird how Hollywood is in my DNA. I've many stories like this, and I recall them fondly. That's why, despite all of its brutality, I love LA.