Blogcritics

Hot Topic: Persistent Reading Decisions

Aaron Fleming — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 10:10:02 EDT

With the world drowning in books, what criteria does one wield when choosing which one to read?
The commentators of Mondo, poking their heads out of the digital stronghold that is the Mondo Group, feel it’s time once again to lay waste to the myths of pop culture. Allow their composite intellectual prowess and ingenious insights to flood your eyes as they contemplate the objects generally known as books.Aaron Fleming:There’s a...

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

Hot Topic: Travel and Adventure

Mary K. Williams — Thu, 2 Aug 2007 16:13:03 EDT

What better time to resurrect the Hot Topic – on a steamy August day. A time when we might think of just getting away somewhere else – somewhere with a large pool, hard-bodied cabana boys, (or girls) and a frosty umbrella drink. So, to that end, this Hot Topic is devoted to the concept of travel and getting away either to escape the heat, the cold, or to start a new adventure. And one of our own dear Mondo-ites is doing just that – Sir Mathew Brewster and his lovely wife will leave for China within the week.We know that mainland China is not a wasteland, and that Sir Mat will have electricity AND Internet access – but how much and how often remains to be seen. So, we are giving him farewells and the like while we ponder the concept of hitting the road.Godspeed, Brewsters.Mary (AKA Sir Mary or just The Gurl)Nearly 20 years ago I got married. (And still am married, which is a funny thing). Now, my martial bliss/woe is wholly separate story, but the honeymoon was special because it was my first time traveling anywhere outside of New England. We were headed not only to exotic Florida (don’t laugh), but would also embark on a four-night cruise to the Bahamas.Heady stuff.The day after our wedding we arrived at Boston’s Logan International Airport. I had been there a couple of times, but had never flown on a plane. I was so freakin’ excited I can’t even tell you. I swear I was like a little kid. My husband, who had caught a cold on the wedding day, was feeling pretty draggy. But there I was practically running through the airport in my excitement.And there was our first married fight. Not fight exactly, just harsh words.“Slow down! There’s no rush.”“Oh, sorry.” And I’d slow down. For about a minute. I’d just look around me and nearly squeal with the thrill of the impending trip. And pretty soon my little feet were on the run again.“Slow DOWN! I FEEL LIKE CRAP!”And then came the tears. Mine, not his. But overall it was a fantastic trip. We met another couple from Long Island, NY that remain dear friends to this day (although they are now divorced).There's been quite a few great trips with him, and with our two sons, mostly to Disneyworld in Florida. But there’s been a couple times that were just plain (no pun intended) scary. The first time it was my husband that was traveling, and I was at home. His flight out was fine, without incident. Oh, I forgot to mention the day he left Massachusetts for this business trip was Sept 10, 2001. Yeah, his trip was to New Jersey, too. About a half hour from all the hellish action. I’ll tell you right out, this was one of the suckiest times we’d ever been through as a couple. I’ve written more extensively on this event, how his trip was supposed to be a short stint for disaster recovery testing, but turned into the actual recovery part. I didn’t mention the nightmares both me and my younger son had: his, of his dad crashing in a plane somewhere, and mine, of soldiers of unknown origin patrolling our street.The second crappy travel event was on the heels of 9/11, I was headed to Sacramento, California for a MACS convention/seminar three weeks later. The flight out was fine, but my travel companion and I were pretty nervous. The fact that we were both martial artists was just a small comfort. Neither of us relished the idea of trying to fight potential terrorists. We certainly didn’t feel as brave as Todd Beamer and his crew. Anyway, we met our friends at the hotel and proceeded with the events of the weekend. Everything was going real well – until Sunday morning the seminar leaders interrupted our training to gather us together and announce that our military had just invaded Afghanistan.Shortly afterward I was joined by the others in our group. We might cancel our flights and rent a van and drive back to the East Coast. We might do nothing. It was nerve wracking and I never wanted to be home with my family as much as I did that day. We ended up not changing any plans, salvaged the rest of the weekend including some hard training (nothing like some bad news to make you want to beat up your friends) and some hard tequila.Mark SaleskiI'm not much for traveling. In fact, you could say that I hate it. It's my introversion run amok that keeps me from considering, much less enjoying, new and distant physical situations. No, I spend my time exploring the inner reaches of my gray matter through words and music. That's far enough. So Sir Brewster is moving all the freaking way over to Shanghai, something I would never do. This is great news, as the Brewsters will get to expand their cultural horizons and I can benefit from the stories that will be sure to filter their way back across the Internet. That Mat may have to climb to the top of a telephone pole with his laptop and dial-up modem is no concern of mine. In honor of this momentous occasion, I'd like to relate my one grand travel story.Umm... except that I don't really have any.Wait, how about the time I took a road trip through the mountains of New York State to audition a pair of speakers? Or, or...the time I drove all the way up to Bar Harbor and back (in a single day!) for a case of Bar Harbor Real Ale? No, wait...there was also the fourteen straight hours in the car from Haverhill, Massachusetts down to northern Kentucky to attend an audiophile get-together. That was a good one! Ah, forget it. No matter what I come up with, it won't come close to Sir Brewster's future adventures. Good luck Mat, we'll miss you... even though we've never met you.Josh HathawayAll day long I've been repeating in my head, "In the land of China..." and going through the whole Forrest Gump carry-on in which Tom Hanks helps John Lennon write "Imagine." Maybe it's because I'm sitting behind a desk in Huntsville, Alabama and our own dear Sir Brewster is about to head out into the great unknown. I've never taken off on a worldwide tour, but twice in my life I've packed a car and headed off across country with a few foolish dreams and a hope of finding myself in the rubble of someone else's backyard. Neither time yielded much more than a broken heart, a broken car, and a whole lot more debt on my credit cards. The cynical bastard in me fears Sir Brewster will find that China is much like Sir Duke's description of Ireland in the very first BC Radio Podcast: a nondescript place overrun by the same box stores selling the same shit you can find anywhere. The closet poet, romantic, and dreamer in me hopes Sir Brewster and his ever-patient bride will find the meaning of life, the muse that sets the writing guts ablaze with brilliance and beauty, and memories that sear the brainspooge until it turns unnatural colors. Maybe I wasn't meant for such ambitious things. When the final scores were tallied I wound up pretty much where I started, but in my resignation a chain of events unfurled that led me to TheWifeToWhomI'mMarried, a college degree, and a group of fabulous Sirs (and a gurl) who like to fling fucks and talk about Ryan Adams. My cup runneth over, and it was here all along. Maybe I just had to leave to find it. May China impact you in some magnificent and meaningful way, Sir Brewster. May it lead you to what you've always wanted, what was missing, or to reassess what it is you've already got in a way that causes greater joy. If it turns out to be the latter, lie about it so you get a better story. It worked for James Frey, other than the part where the First Church of Oprah Winfrey put a fatah on his ass.The DukeIn a dream I saw a gargantuan glass-tailed Chimera arise from out the waters of the Yangtze River, painting the airways with reels of fantastical Sino-Tibetan oration, holding atween its jaws the heads of a thousand folks shoved out their homes for to make way for another couple dozen running tracks or trampolines or swimming pools or whatever (Frenzied yelps -“Jesus Christ Almighty, we’ve got less than a year! Shift! Fuck your windowsill, y'hear, and your bastard conservatory!”) and clasping in electric hoof-hands two hundred and nineteen bloggers all writhing in ropes of state-enforced silence.From the window of an apartment some nineteen miles away, a young man with the most sublime jawbone / eyes / torso / six-pack etc sits clickity-clacking on a laptop, looking up now and then for to note the texture of the fire careering out the arse of yon colossus in the distance, flicking through a phrasebook lain open on his knee for to decipher this or that terrible pronouncement.Spying this from my position top the Hilton Hotel in Belfast, some 8174 kilometres to the right, I let loose a cheekful of whistle at the breeze all scuttling past.“Breeze!” says I, “Would you carry for me a message to yonder fella in thon apartment in China?”“What is it?”“Just tell him for me to keep makin’ those notes and keep the hell out of the way of that Chimera and also take photographs of the cities and the alleys and the forests and the mountains and the wee men stood reading papers in the parks and the wee women stood arranging daffodils or marigolds on their doorsteps, and for the love of dear God Sir Brewster take care of yourself and tell us all how you’re doin’ every chance you get and know that we’re all thinkin’ of you in your travels and out our minds with anticipation for the tales you’ll tell when you get back.”The breeze gives a ghost of a nod, makes off then o’er the Lough en route to the ocean. Watching it go, I’m thinking - I’d very much like to take myself off that direction too, one of these days, on the coat-tails of that breeze. To the Wisconsin I have in my head, maybe, that’s all bollock-high snows and whiskey-cragged-faces and women with cattle-prods throwing rocks at passing trains and men chasing Jesus up and down the long-tilled fields. Or maybe to the Rural South I been crackin’ ones off over since I first heard Jimmy Rodgers singing about "Oh Merciful Mother o' Fuck I've the wild time of it, so I have, with this auld TB" and all his other hits. The Rural South reeks of old wagon-wheels buried in dead men's heads and chewed-cud and dirt-roads and moonshine and madness and song. Where a man can crawl into a cave and find seething in the shadows the ghosts of all the folks he was and all the folks he’ll one day be. This kinda stuff.One of these days. Aw but it’ll be the blinding time of it altogether, much like what Sir Brewster will find awaiting him far-side of that plane / train / automobile. Take care of yourself and Mrs Brewster there and keep notes, are my only requests. And also, bring me a wee stick of rock or a t-shirt, would you, or maybe a shut-down Starbucks out the Forbidden City if you find one in the markets. El BichoAs the only member of the Mondo family that has been to China, let me be the first to say goodbye forever to the Mat Brewster we all know because he is not coming back. Oh, sure, eventually there will be a man that returns to America that calls himself “Mat Brewster,” will take up the same space that Mat Brewster's body occupies now, and we will all recognize him, but it won’t be the same man who boards that plane eastward. There’s no way to spend any length of time in China and not be transformed for the better.Not to scare you, Mat, but to help prepare you for your journey let me inform you that almost everything you now know is wrong: the rules of the road, the way you shop, when Monday Night Football is on. You will try different foods, different medicines, and different ideas and might even embrace them. You’ll learn that what our government told you about the Chinese people is wrong and you’ll teach them what their government told them about Americans is wrong. You are becoming an ambassador without having to pay off any politicians.Leaving America you leave behind the notions about the importance of the individual, being number one, thinking you are singular and special. Here, you can isolate yourself pretty well from the world, keeping the ego gorged and bloated with delusions from a false sense of self-worth and distracted from your potential by a great many things. Not to imply there won’t be moments of uniqueness on your trip. Many times you will be the tallest guy, the only white guy, the guy who doesn’t know whatpeople are saying. However, in China you are only one person out of 1.3 billion, a grain of sand on the beach, a tiny piece of the puzzle we call the cosmos. Your awareness of your place in the universe will be forever altered. Hold on tight and enjoy the ride.It’s been a pleasure knowing you. Can’t wait to meet you.Aaron FlemingAuthor’s note: Sir Fleming has been swamped (or should I say "ticked") with other projects, but he managed to croak out the following sentiment:And I agree, this Brewster-goes-to-China incident has really brought out the best in the Mondos, my eyes have suddenly turned to liquid at the thought of the tender words spoken by the poets of Mondo.

Mary K. is a freelance writer living in the Greater Boston area. She is also Features Editor for Hot Psychology Magazine, and has contributed to the recently published anthology, Brewed Awakenings.

The Hot Topic: Selling Out

Mat Brewster — Thu, 8 Feb 2007 23:35:47 EST

We’re back, and this time it is not only personal, it’s obsequious. It has been nine months since the Mondo Brethren got together for a collaboration of such monumental importance that even David Hasselhoff has to take note. In that time scientists have made progress on the Project, the gurl has admitted certain admissions, and with the help of Jack Bauer, one El Bicho squirreled his way into our midst.So, get comfortable (but keep your pants on), light up your smokes of choice, turn down the lights and let us amuse, bemuse, entertain, and stimulate your intellect with our pondering pontifications. For here it is, the Hot Topic:To: The Hot Topic Team From: Mat Brewster RE: Selling Out From the horizon comes the giant, 4X4 truck, climbing like a lion over the mountain. Flying along the great plains. Rumbling through streams and rocks, and mud it goes. On the soundtrack comes the thunder of a bass, the roar of a guitar and Roger Daltrey singing about “Baba O Reiley.” On the screen, words flash about how amazing, astounding, and down right awesome this new vehicle is, and that you can buy it for a low, low cost.Across the land, a grumbled chorus can be heard chanting, “sell-out!”Never mind that the Who themselves declared they had sold out way back in 1964.We’ve seen it all before. Selling out is the worst insult you can label an artist and yet it seems fans throw the word about like cotton candy and at the slightest provocation. It not only happens when an artist allows his/her song to be used to shill products, but whenever they make a change to their own style, when they suddenly gain an influx of fans (whether they asked for them or not) and even when they change pants.Did Pete Townsend sell out when he used his music to sell automobiles?The short answer is yes. The long answer starts with its own question, that is, so what? It is easy to sit in my comfortable office chair, having written exactly zero songs and complain that Pete sold his soul for a buck. But if the ad man came running to me, would I be so good as to stand by my principles? Would I hold tight to my musical integrity when literally tens of thousands of dollars were offered for it? I’m not so sure.I have a friend who is in a little funk/hip hop/psychedelic trio. They are very serious musicians who take their craft and their art to heart. Not long ago, through some various connections they were offered a job as the house band for a club in the Cayman Islands. The trip there and back, plus the lodging would all be take care of. They would be given an expense account and a very decent wage. The only catch was they couldn’t play any original music, but had to play the classic hits of the '80s. Without question they all agreed to go.Later I joked with my friend that he had sold out for a week’s vacation. He laughed and whole-heartedly agreed. When they got back they went right back to playing the music they loved, and being serious musicians. Did the trip make them less of a band? By selling out, did the music they were creating become any less? I don’t think so.As a fan, I like to believe the music I love is special, that by liking it, I am made special, too. And there is something amazing about finding something great, that hasn’t been overblown to gigantic proportions. When a great band is relatively unknown, it makes you feel like part of a secret society. But when that band is suddenly being played relentlessly on MTV and Top 40 radio, that specialness wears off. It is easy to blame the band and call them sell outs, than to own up to the fact that their greatness is universal. This is not to say that something isn’t lost when a band sells their music for corporate gain. When Pete Townsend sells his music to a commercial, it cheapens the music. Whenever I hear “Baba O Reiley” these days, instead of raising my hands for teenage rebellion, I picture a giant SUV roaming over the mountain tops.When an artist begins to realize the fortunes that come with commercialization, I suspect it is difficult not to make the music they are writing after simply a corporate shill. To me, that is the true sell out. Whenever an artist writes for the masses instead of their heart, they have truly sold out, regardless of money made. To: The Hot Topic Team From: Aaron Fleming RE: Selling Out Ah, the old sell-out debate, a contentious issue for sure. The accusation of selling out is bandied about so frequently that it's readily noticeable on the tips of tongues everywhere just as soon as a band (since music is almost custom-built for this type of discussion) begins to sell albums that aren't CD-Rs wrapped in cheap photocopy. But what is selling out, and what precisely is being `sold out' in this process?Herr Brewster pinpoints two main areas in this debate: the use of artistic creation to explicitly sell commercial products, and changing that artistic creation (or the way in which it is created) with the express objective of attracting a wealth of fans. I must say that in itself gaining a large amount of fans does not confer sell-out status; although I like as much as anyone to enjoy something not yet plastered all over the cultural zeitgeist, but this doesn't necessarily reflect the actions of the artist in question, and I think placed at the core of the notion of selling out has to be the artist. The cries of "sell-out" echo so resoundingly so often because we assign especial prestige to artists, who are perceived as independent of the toils of everyday life - as unique and distanced from the homogenised labour that permeates society. In the reification of artistic creation, it's all too often forgotten that not only are these individuals forced into the socioeconomic reality of requiring money to live, but they too share the neurosis and psychological failings of the human condition. Surely what is being sold out are an artist's own principles. Principles which we can only extrapolate from prior examples of their work. So, over time we learn that such-and-such are the ideals that this person holds dear as an important value. But does one not change over time? Can one not discard and acquire new principles? I would say so. Then how can we judge at all? Well, we confer our own values upon said artist, a projection which in many ways place ourselves in their position. Though of course this is a fallacious method to make a judgement, as Mat says, would he crumble to the sounds of banknotes being proffered his way? Only speculation and conjecture is possible.In short, what is being sold out is our own ideas of what an artist should do, which is predicated on the special esteem we ascribe to them. With this in mind, and returning to Mat's dual areas of selling products and attracting fans en masse, I would view both these in a negative light. It's clear that what links the two is money. The utilisation of a song in an advertisement brings revenue to the artist, but it also strips a certain amount of cultural credibility from the piece as it takes on a purely functional purpose. Changing to attract fans increases sales and opens the gates to an array of synergistic marketing. As a Marxist I see both of these as wretched and, on the whole, pointless, but also it must be borne in mind that people need to make a living. So, and I'm reminded of discussions with The Duke on this matter, shilling products can be excused when the alternative is poverty or having to give up creative endeavour to get a 9 to 5 job. But when it comes to someone with easily enough money to live on, then I cannot think of any good reason not to view them as corporate whores.That's my ideological position, which in the end comes down to a mere subjective outlook. But what can be taken from this, that is, the valorised role of artists in society and the fact that we're even tackling this question, is that creativity, after all the garbage spectacles of capitalism have been pealed away, is seen as the most valuable and admired tropes of the human condition. To: The Hot Topic Team From: Mark Saleski RE: Selling OutSongs carry emotional information and some transport us back to a poignant time, place or event in our lives. It's no wonder a corporation would want to hitch a ride on the spell these songs cast and encourage you to buy soft drinks, underwear or automobiles while you're in the trance. Artists who take money for ads poison and pervert their songs. It reduces them to the level of a jingle, a word that describes the sound of change in your pocket, which is what your songs become. Remember, when you sell your songs for commercials, you are selling your audience as well. I wish I had written the paragraph above. So succinct. So eloquent. But it wasn't me. It was Tom Waits. Waits walks the walk, not only refusing to sell his music for corporate advertising, but going to far as to take companies to court who attempt to sidestep his refusals by hiring 'soundalike' artists. This Waits quote resonates with me because obviously it's how I think and write about music. The idea that music is more than product — that it often carries emotional import to the listener — is a powerful one. That's why when I do hear things like The Who's "Baba O'Reilly" or Regina Spektor's "Better" in the context of a television theme or an ad, I feel a shadow of disappointment. Sure, those artists own their music and can legally do with it whatever they like. Still, I can't help but feel that the intensity of my memory has been compromised against my will. Yes, the music is made and is sold. There's no getting around the commercial aspects. But there's a difference between great art that happens to sell and art that's made to sell. To: The Hot Topic Team From: Mary K Williams RE: Selling Out I would like to know, how do you not sell out? How can an artist for example, not redirect his work towards a mainstream audience on occasion? When we start out young, figuring out our talents and dreaming of the future, how many of us never EVER dream of ‘making it big?' For some, that’s all they think about. Others just want to have a little recognition and respect from peers, but it’s the rare person that doesn’t have some little image of being at a podium or another, channeling Sally Field, “You like me, you really like me!” Suppose a young girl sits in her art teacher’s office, listening to the likes of, ‘you have superb talent, you need to take this further’ – you think that this girl didn’t have a flash of a fantasy involving her work hanging in a tony Manhattan gallery some day?I loved Mat’s example of his friends’ experience in the Caymans. Some talented dudes taking a break from their standard work (their own original music) and stretching their musical muscles in a different direction. And they happened to get to do this in a beautiful location, AND get paid! This is absolutely fantastic, and nothing to be ashamed about. I can’t consider it a ‘sell-out’ even though, as we’re learning, the term has varied and subjective meanings.There has to be – there IS – a discernible difference between exploring different kinds of genres in your field; and a musician planting tidbits of gossip here or there, that will result in full blown write-ups, and further result in record sales. I think when we look at the more derogatory association of ‘selling out’ – it could mean an artist trying to overtly manipulate their fans or the media in order to gain publicity. The sellout is the tipping point of over-saturation of a given artist whether by design or circumstance. Not to mention the earning of a heap-load of extra cash.To: The Hot Topic Team From: DJRadiohead RE: Selling OutWhat constitutes selling out? Is selling out good or bad? Who gives a fuck either way?There are a lot of issues at work here and I have given several of them some degree of thought. Here is as far as I have gotten with them: The relationship between an artist, their work, and the fans is a complex one on many levels. When an artist creates a work, for example a songwriter writes a song, that song belongs to the artist. It's his. They can do what the fuck they want to with it. They wrote it. They own it. It's theirs. Period. What is so complicated about that? When a song connects with an audience, it takes on a new life beyond the control of its creator. When a song connects with an audience, it becomes sacred and personal. This is where the conflict between artist and audience begins. Consumerism might not be evil, but it sure isn't sacred and when those two seemingly competing ideas are asked to co-exist, it feels tantamount to a betrayal and said betrayal goes up our collective asses sideways. When you distill this all down to its basic elements, it is all pretty fucking silly. The song is bigger than the artist or the audience. If Bruce Springsteen wants to sell his half of "Across the Border" to Taco Bell to peddle chalupas, it should have no bearing on what I do with my half of the song. This is the TiVo and iPod generation. We, the end users, the media consumers, watch shows on demand and buy and listen to songs in the order and context of our choosing. Blocks of programming are rendered pointless, the concept of the album is eroding. An artist can no more insist we hear their music as they intended than we can insist the artist treat their creations to suit our contrived and convoluted sense of ethics. To: The Hot Topic Team From: El Bicho RE: Selling Out“Sell-out,” a sleight uttered by those who think their definition of “cool” should be of any consequence to a musician. Aside from the normal delusions of self-importance created by the ego, I am not sure what makes a person think he has been crowned arbiter of a musician’s status. Probably some romantic ideal of the bohemian artist, read about in worn paperbacks and glossy magazines, which ceases to exist after said musician hits the big time, presuming that condition ever occurred in the first place. Music creates such a deep bond that a presumptive sense of entitlement infects people. It’s rather selfish and obnoxious for fans to place musicians into this bizarre form of bondage. You would think the pleasure of a song would be enough. Usually when a stranger gives you a gift, it is met with gratitude not a demand for more, especially when nothing is given in return. Oh, sure, there’s fanatical devotion, but if that could be spent, Gene Simmons wouldn’t have sold KISS Kaskets. The term “sell-out” is bandied about when a musician alters his work, usually considered to be an appeal to a larger audience, or when Madison Ave. is using a generation’s teenage soundtrack to pitch products. Both of which are done to make money obviously.No one wants their favorite band to be appreciated by the huddled masses. Friends are perfectly fine as is a small group who know their stuff, but when people you don’t like enjoy your music, it turns you uncool by association, and that ain’t cool. It’s bad enough once the mainstream music magazines take notice, but when Us Weekly writes a feature, the publicity appears to reach whorish levels. The worst is when your mother likes your music. You have to immediately drop that band from your collection. Sure, at first, it will seem like a great set-up. Your friends will come around, hang out and drink, mom will joke around, cook, and everyone thinks she’s the coolest. That’s great until a few weeks go by and you come home to find Paul and mom in bed together smoking a joint. You spend the remainder of the year startled by ringing phones in fear that the voice on the other end will say, “Hello, I’m Janelle from The Jerry Springer Show.” There’s no song yet, blues or country, to help you get over that calamity.Others want to place a musician in stasis for perpetuity, capturing them at the precise moment in time of the recording, but the truly talented musicians want to expand and explore. I feel embarrassed for all the people who booed Bob Dylan and called him “Judas” because he wanted to play electric. After all that great folk music he created, probably more than anyone in that same time period, it wasn’t enough. I feel indebted to him just for “Masters of War,” but these geniuses didn’t care. Like a high school sweetheart who doesn’t want his girl going off to college and leaving him behind, they said don’t be who you want to be. Be what we want you to be. We know better even though we couldn’t create the music you did. All he wanted was to try something new, something that excited him, to explore other modes of music. Apparently folk music fans had no use for “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” “Like a Rolling Stone,” or “Tangled Up in Blue.” Their loss is our gain.I do understand the shock and pain of hearing your favorite band spilling out of the TV in an effort to pimp merchandise. The first time I heard Jane’s Addiction, my band, from right here in Los Angeles, selling Coors Light with “The Mountain Song” I must admit I did feel a wave of nausea. These guys had trouble getting the video aired back in 1988-89, although they eventually did with black bars covering miscellaneous naughty bits, but were now considered safe enough for Middle America. I did some research and found out that after Strays and its supporting tour, which had a number of cancelled dates, the band found itself in a great deal of debt, so they sold the song to cover their losses. Completely understandable from a business perspective, so any complaints from detractors ring hollow. Why they couldn’t have picked a better beer than that watery swill known as Coors Light is best left for another time.Back to the original question, “Did Pete Townsend sell out when he used his music to sell automobiles?”My answer would hinge on whether or not he retains the rights to The Who’s music. The Beatles sold Nike sneakers, but that wasn’t their fault because Michael Jackson owned the rights at the time. If he does, the answer is obviously yes, but since I don’t pay his bills I really don’t care. I’ll just say, “Thanks,” for “My Generation,” and consider everything else a bonus.

Mat Brewster is an American stumbling through the streets of Shanghai. He is helped by his lovely wife and an enormous piles of bootleg DVDs. You can read about his adventures at the Shanghai Cafe.

The Hot Topic: Foreign Language Films

Mat Brewster — Mon, 10 Apr 2006 08:26:06 EDT

From the ardent minds of loutish gawks comes the suddenly and fairly often meanderings on the current topics of the day.Sharpen your pencils, and sprinkle your thoughts with lighter fluid, for this is the Hot Topic.From: Mat BrewsterTo: The Hot Topic TeamRe: Foreign Language Films"I don't want to read a movie," said my mother."But it's a Kurosawa marathon," I replied. "They're showing the Seven Samurai, The Hidden Fortress and Throne of Blood. That's like the greatest movie ever made, the movie that inspired Star Wars, and a bloody Shakespeare adaptation!""I don't care if it is Jesus nailed up on the cross, I don't want to read a movie.""Jesus nailed on a cross? No, mom that was The Passion of the Christ, which by the way, was in a foreign language with subtitles, and you saw it.""Oh, whatever," she replies, "that movie was all blood and guts and birds pulling out eyes. There was hardly any talking in it, just a lot of screaming. And it don't matter what language you're screaming in, it's all the same.""Fine, what do you want to see?" I ask."How about that Pink Panther movie? That looks funny, and you like Steve Martin.""Fine, we'll see the Pink Panther."I have had this same argument with my mother countless times. She refuses to watch any foreign language movie because of the subtitles. She says she doesn't want to read a movie and all the writing keeps her from watching the action on the screen. Repeat this conversation with literally dozens of coworkers, friends, and acquaintances. I continually ask myself why this is, and I cannot come up with a reasonable answer. Sure, it's true that by reading subtitles you do miss some of the visual imagery of a film; you might miss an important bit of action. But that's why god invented the rewind button. Sometimes I want to mention that most foreign language films are dubbed into English, but that's just sacrilege. Dubbed movies are crap. The voice actors are about as good as porno actors.This argument is senseless to me anyway. By not watching the film, you miss all of the imagery, you do not see any of the action. You are missing some of the greatest films ever made.By not watching foreign language films, you'd never see the Seven Samurai, my all-time favorite movie. What with the stunning action, the comedy, the romance, and the Toshiro Mifune, it's really freaking brilliant.No foreign language films = no 400 Blows, no Wild Strawberries, no Seventh Seal, no 8 �, no Band of Outsiders, no...Is this an American thing? An English language thing? Is this just something with the people I know? Why are so many afraid of subtitles?What do you guys think? Do you watch foreign language flicks? What about you fellas across the pond? What do you think about this? Is the UK more enlightened when it comes to foreign language flickery, being so close to foreign languages and all?From: Bennett DawsonTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsI'm really with Mat on this one. If you refuse to do subtitles, you miss a lot of great films. It works for me because I'm a speedy reader, and quickly fall into a mode where reading the text is just part of the experience. It stops bothering me about two minutes in.That said, my wife is French Canadian, and English is her second language. She would love it if the films with heavy English accents or Irish accents (Snatch) were subtitled in English so she could figure out what the hell everybody is yacking about.I vote 'Yes' on English subtitles for anything from Scotland, Boston, or New Jersey... From: DJRadioheadTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsBooks are work, movies are easy, and I am a lazy cunt.I don't want to work hard when I watch a movie. Two hours and I am done - that is the appeal. Movies are, in that sense, like poetry. Condensed. Tell the story of a man's life in two hours. Tell the story of 12 hours in two. Great films stick around with you longer than that but still only take two hours to revisit.That movie watching is so easy makes me even less willing to put any kind of effort into watching one. If the movie is two hours and the first 30 minutes blow, I am probably out of there. I have little invested and the chance for redemption drops with each passing minute. Fuck a lot of that noise. I will go do something else. It might sound to you like I don't like movies. Not true. I did, during the dark days of college, work at a video store. For a few years, I got to see everything. I guess I got burned out on it all. I still watch more than a few each year but I generally get less and less excited about them. You will probably be able to guess what I think of foreign film viewing.Movies are moving pictures. Every picture tells a story. I don't really want to try and read and watch the movie at the same time. I admit it. I have been told by people all my life I am terrible at concentrating. I can't focus. Ever. I mean, let me tell you about this time when I was in a play in college and... See what I mean? Do remind me to tell you that story sometime. Anyway, I do find it disconcerting to watch a film I also have to read. I have done it. I have seen some Kurosawa and a few others in my life. I just do not enjoy the experience.Movies are also sound. They are aural experiences and I apologize in advance to the denizens of hypersensitive PC fucks everywhere: foreign tongues sound foreign. Sometimes they even sound funny to my ears. It can be really hard to let myself get sucked in to an intense scene when I hear those sounds. The dramatic use of facial expressions, other visual scenery, and the score in the background cannot always overcome the fact that those sounds can sometimes make me laugh. Even when they don't, there is something lost in translation.Harkening back to my college days, I learned in my nonverbal communication class that 93% of meaning is transferred by nonverbal means. I guess the 7% I have to read rather than hear is the difference between loving foreign films and waiting for Hollywood to take them and fuck them up in English.From: Mark SaleskiTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsThe whole foreign film/subtitles thing seems to be a love-it/hate-it phenomenon.Personally, I've always loved foreign movies. And while I don't love subtitles, I'll put up with them because the films themselves resonate with my inner-directed self.Kurosawa being an exception, most of the foreign language movies I love are full of dialogue and not much else. Subtitles? Ah, I don't care. There are just too many great films out there to allow some text on the screen to make the decision (to watch or not) for me.Interestingly enough, my favorite foreign movie -- indeed, my favorite movie of all time -- combines moments of highly nuanced character development with segments of heart-stopping action. It's a French film called Diva. A Parisian courier's love of a particular opera singer gets him wrapped up in a white slavery and drug ring, plus some other creepy underworld types. The characters are so interesting, the plot so engrossing, and the music so beautiful, that I completely forget about the subtitles.Oh... as for the sometimes-proposed "solution" to subtitling: dubbing? That's more distracting than subtitles. That I hate.From: Aaron FlemingTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsAh the old `foreign films with those word things on screen' topic, an area close to my sensitive parts for sure. A subject worthy of many fucks flung, as they often are, but perhaps this time with a fuck-catapult built out of the flaming phalluses of a group of Mahavishnu Orchestra-obsessed Pharisees. But with a slight restraint in the flinging, maybe some put aside for the time when the new Paul W. Anderson flick slides out his back colon. This is due to our good fellow DJRadiohead's comments regarding this here discussion, which are quite antithetical to my own views, albeit at the same time being very honest and pleasant. Of course, it doesn't matter where the film's from, what the hell language it is in, whether the characters are speaking in the finest and most expressive of the queen's English, or in something more akin to Microsoft Word's Wingdings font. It doesn't matter. Plenty of crud-encrusted French movies out there. And best remember, not all foreign language movies are the high-end of culture. Where's the art-house praise for Banlieue 13? All that Parkour and elbows to groins not titillating the pretensions of bereted and bearded critics? I guess not, I thought it was fun though.But to restrict yourself to only English-language films is to miss out on so much brilliance, not just the aesthetically glorified cinema of a Tarkovsky or a Bergman, but great entertainment pieces like Ong Bak. I'll admit to emitting a plethora of sneers towards the "Subtitles? Fuck that, I'm going to watch rugby and get drunk," crowd; it's a shame. My occasional moonlightings as a video store clerk have brought me many painful moments related to this very topic. Like that time someone brought back Ong Bak complaining it was in "Chinese or some ol' gibberish" and demanding nothing short of a refund. I, of course, corrected his erroneousness by blasting back with a negating stare and mouth movement forming "It's actually Thai, cunt." Then I told him to fuck off and how my day would have been better if he had been born still.What can you do? Only attempt to spread the good word of Chan Wook Park by recommending his flicks at every opportunity; maybe, some day, one person might say, "By Mike Patton's very beard thing! This is actually quite brilliant, now I must track down every Godard I missed while I was watching the latest mass-produced offering featuring The Rock, what a fool I have been."From: Mary K WilliamsTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsYou know, there is SO much good art out there -- be it music, graphic (oils, watercolors), literary, or film -- that what I've experienced could fit in a wee thimble. Sure, now I blame my lack of art exposure on trying to raise a family and all, and well, that's as good excuse as any I guess. But lately I've felt so deprived - so lacking. I know my life is continually being enriched through my home life experiences, and as much we can all cram in as a family. Yet, I hear tell of these interesting quirky films, or offbeat but breathtaking musicians - and I think , "Wait, stop, the world is going much too fast, I'm going to miss it all!" I do know that in the imaginary perfect world of not having to earn a living and not having anyone depending on you, a person would still be hard pressed to go out and manage to 'do it all.' A thought occurred to me today - that I consider foreign films complete with subtitles like delicious fancy food. A little intimidating at first, but then quite delicious if prepared well, and if you have the right attitude. But you have to be in the proper frame of mind for the likes of Crouching Tiger, Hero, or The Passion of the Christ. (These being the few I've seen and enjoyed). If not, you may not be able to really appreciate the subtleties of flavoring or the magic of lighting and direction. Sometimes, when you feel like I did today, exhausted after a very busy week, and with a cold on top of all that - you just want comfort food. And sometimes too, you just want comfort flicks. A movie that you don't have to have all eight cylinders cranking for - like my picks of the day, Lethal Weapon 2, Scary Movie 2, Sixteen Candles and Two Weeks Notice.From: Duke de MondoTo: The Hot Topic TeamSubject: Foreign Language FilmsAh, the old "Balls! It's subtitled!" hollering.How many times have I heard this? Far too many to be bothered thinking about. ...The lass in the video-store who, with rather lovely yap all twisted up the jaw, handed me Amelie with the cautionary aside; "This is subtitled, y'know. Is that alright?"...The copy of Irreversible tossed back at my mug, fella tutting, "Watched five minutes. Fuckin' all that writin' an stuff, the hell kinda shite's that?"...The ex-girlfriend lamenting my choice of viewing material for the evening. "The Seventh Seal!" I cheerily announce. "For God's sakes!" comes the anguished reply. "Can't we watch somethin' normal? Somethin' without subtitles!"...The mate all high on the beery-brew, eyes all uncertainty couple minutes into Funny Games. "Is it like that all the way through? With the subtitles?" (He did watch it mind, and quite enjoyed it. I thought it was shite and threw a shoe at the telly.)Aye. Who knows why, or for what reason, but plenty folks who wanna be sat front the screen for a couple hours, most likely they wanna see something doesn't piss all o'er their ears wi' some gabble they can't understand and a buncha text they can't be arsed reading. This isn't to say that folks who don't like subtitles don't like film, that right there is a horrendous misconception. I know people got the damn house comin' down with 1940s comedies, for example, but it's rare they'll bother with anything ain't got English as the primary language. It's easy to get all sortsa snobbish regarding viewing types who'd puke their faces raw if'n they had to sit front a Bergman for any length of time. But it's also incredibly easy to get ones own perspective fucked just as bad.There is, whether or not we care to admit it, a consensus among certain flickology types that runs along the lines of: a foreign film is inherently superior to a Hollywood number.This is bullshit, of course. I remember a conversation with a lady way back when, was asking her if she'd seen Pale Rider."No" she said. "I don't watch those kindsa films. I only watch World Cinema."There are, of course, a number of reasons for why a fella might wanna claw his own ears off after hearing such a statement. For one thing, it's fuckin' Pale Rider. For another, fuckin' Pale Rider was made in America, which, last time I looked, was part of the World. Also, World Cinema? What horrible ghettoised mindset has done gone soured your very arse, m'dear, for to have you using terms like World Cinema. Like "World Music", World Cinema ain't nothin more than a wretched, patronising, elitist-yet-incredibly-ignorant half-arsed nonsense. Bein' the kind of fella who cums himself in five at the thought of a couple extra minutes of Manhattan might be hidden away in a vault someplace, i.e, a Flick Geek, I'll watch anything, and if it's good, it's good. Subtitled or otherwise, horror or romantic-comedy or documentary about some goof made a record one time and some folks liked it, whatever, if a fella wants to find the gold, he can't go lingerin' round a handful o' rocks.Wonderful flicks are a universal phenomenon, as is guffy ol' shite. Also, it ain't necessarily the fault of the audiences that they don't watch these flicks. Time and again, it's been proven that a subtitled flick can be incredibly successful provided the studio flinging it screen-wards puts the effort in. The Passion Of The Christ, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Life Is Beautiful. Three flicks right there that proved enormously popular theatrically and on video/DVD. If folks could see, say, Paradise Now as easily as they could see Munich, I'd wager they would. They have done.Studios tossing brilliant films into horrible ghettos like World Cinema, marketing them to select audiences and ignoring everyone else, well, they're as much to blame as the fella sat front the telly choosing Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels over Ikiru, or Anchorman over La Cage Aux Folles. More so, in fact, because most likely the fella would go with Ikiru, had he ever heard of it. A flick they've heard about, they're more likely to watch. Stands to reason. How many flicks do we ignore, us enlightened cinema-fiends, on account of we don't know shit about them? Plenty manys, is how many. Market these things right, and it's more likely folks'll take the chance.Folks take the chance with that one, there's more chance they'll opt for La Cage Aux Folles next time.They'll probably still enjoy Anchorman more, though. And they'd be absolutely right to do so. Anchorman fuckin' rocks.

Mat Brewster is an American stumbling through the streets of Shanghai. He is helped by his lovely wife and an enormous piles of bootleg DVDs. You can read about his adventures at the Shanghai Cafe.

The Hot Topic: Kleenex or Adrenaline - A Look at Chick Flicks

Mary K. Williams — Fri, 24 Mar 2006 21:05:24 EST

Within the Sinister Cabal that is Blogcritics.org, there exists a Double Secret Society of Men. Manly Men, who wear plaid, spit, swear and scratch private parts. These are the Manly Men of Mondo. Their existence has been whispered about and speculated upon and soon, a major motion picture starring Tom Hanks will be released to show the world the truth behind the Mondo Myth. To get to the kernel of that truth took cunning, bravery, and a decidedly feminine touch. I took on the task to infiltrate this conclave, this cabal within a cabal. I brought coasters, doilies, chamomile tea, and a case of beer. Ingratiatingly charming but ready to fling the fucks with the best of them, I am - The Gurl. From: Mary To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksSo, here I am, yakking about movies. A gurl at that, in the midst of the Boys of Mondo, talking about movie preferences based on gender. Well, do I go to see a movie based on the stud appeal of the leading men? No, that's not the driving force. There are a lot of hot leading men out there that I like to look at, but it takes more than that to earn my crumpled, sweaty dollars. So, assuming I'm not seeing a movie for my kids, assuming I'm seeing something just for me, what turns me on? Ah, I dunno. I have been thinking of my favorite movies, and why they remain favorite movies. Some I like purely for the talking. Tons of dialogue, doesn't have to be witty (though, I love witty too), just deep. Dialogue that provokes conflict, which speaks to some dark part inside me. Take The Anniversary Party. Although some of the more interesting dialogue occurs after the characters have taken ecstasy, I enjoy this kind of slow-moving film. Maybe part of the allure is the fine cast, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Alan Cumming (both also wrote and directed the flick) Jennifer Beals, John C. Reilly, Jane Adams, and Kevin Kline. Or maybe I just like talky movies with Kevin Kline. The Big Chill hit me in a big way when that came out. Tons of talking! That's all they did! Oh they had a little sex, did some drugs and played football. Or maybe I just like the movies where they take drugs. Who knows?But hey, I like action movies too. I don't know if they are just fun to watch, or because it's what you do when you're in a house full of men. The technology has advanced in film-making that for me anyway, watching today's Batman Begins or Mr. and Mrs. Smith can be jaw-dropping. Of course, not to discredit some older action flicks, 1981's Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark was incredible. I remember seeing it with a girlfriend, and the momentum of the movie stayed with me as we left the theater. I wanted to drive very fast afterwards.A recurrent theme that flows throughout my favorite films is music. I wonder if The Big Chill would have been as great if there were no Motown beats running through it. Would the church scene have been as good without the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want"? A little film that made it big at Sundance 2004 and across America - Napoleon Dynamite - was a success not only for its writing, acting and directing, but also for its musical scoring. The instrumental "Music for a Found Harmonium" is a piece I have fallen in love with. "Harmonium" is good music on its own, but now, when I hear it, it's forever colored by the sweet last few scenes of Dynamite. And then a decidedly more masculine view is how much I love "Down With the Sickness" by Disturbed in Jet Li's movie, The One.And that brings me to another point. It seems as if my yang (masculine) is more predominant than my yin (feminine). Or maybe they are equal, but I'm maybe more in touch with my masculine side then other woman? Would that explain my martial arts interests? My propensity for vulgar comedies? My desire to cuss?Yet there are plenty of typically girly things that I like, movies included. Filmsite.org lists a bunch of 'chick-flick' movies. I read through them and to me it could just be a list of any movies with no special gender connection. My reactions ranged from, "eh" to "Yes - LOVED it", to "since when is Lara Croft just for chicks?"Ultimately, I have movies I like, and movies I don't. A favorite film, You've Got Mail, has some lines that eloquently express the combination of hope and vulnerability of the lead character, Kathleen. What will NY152 say today, I wonder? I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you. Girly stuff? Yes. Good stuff? Definitely. And I'll beat up any boy who disagrees!From: Mark Saleski To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksI love "chick flicks". Honest. I really do. They...are...awesome!OK. OK. That was just a transparent attempt to not get my ass beaten by Sir Mary, resident black belt of the House of Mondo.Still, the movies that I like to tend to share some of your basic chick flick tendencies: emphasis on relationships and character development, lots of dialog, not so much action.Some of this, to be sure, comes from my contrarian nature. Working in the software industry, I'm just supposed to be into things like Star Wars, Star Trek, and Lord of the Rings. Nope. Nothing there for me.Similarly, the "guy movie" is often full of action and violence. Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti any of this stuff. It's just that it's kind of, well, boring. Seriously. When I see a movie trailer and somebody pulls out a large gun, or maybe a building explodes into a ball of flames...I'm just not interested. Why that is, I'm not sure. I guess it's just that none of it feels like it's got anything to do with my life.Of course, there are counter-examples. What? You want internal consistency? Dirty Harry. Apocalypse Now. Blue Velvet. Terminator II. Pulp Fiction. A Clockwork Orange. Is there a line to be drawn through all of those films? Maybe "purposeful violence." Dunno. It seems to me that you can lose yourself inside the characters in those movies, no matter what kind of ugliness they're experiencing.Relationships and dialogue: The Big Chill is a good starting point. Add to that Ruby In Paradise, Babette's Feast, Manhattan, Fandango, High Fidelity, and Paris, Texas. The one thing that links all of these completely different movies together is their memoir-ish nature. I love this stuff. Some folks enjoy flinging the label "navel-gazing". To me, observing how others make a way through their lives is endlessly fascinating.So why do most guys not care about this kind of thing? Or is that a stereotype?From: Mat Brewster To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksChick flicks? Quotes from You've Got Mail? Man, who let the girl in here? What kind of Gentlemen's Club lets girls in? Wait, don't answer that question.So Sir Mary wants to hang with the men of Mondo, and we let her right in the front door. I guess that's okay. I mean we're all enlightened men here. This is the twenty-first century. And it's not like this club is full of big burly men anyways. I mean we're all aspiring writers (and ain't a one of us look like Hemmingway) who sit around debating the merits of organic food, Ryan Adams and Asian cinema.At least Sir Mary curses like a boy, unlike that girlish Aaron Fleming chap who cries when he chips a nail.Okay then, so movies are the subject at hand. I can't really say I like flicks that get labeled for chicks or dicks. I'm not really hip to the Norah Ephron romancers or the gun toting, action packed testosterone packages from the Governor of California.I want to say that I'm an indie film kind of guy, but truth be told, all too many indie flicks are just rotten. The budgets are miniscule, production quality is shoddy at best, the acting is about as good as you'd get in community theatre, and the stories are bloated, convoluted messes.The heart of my film life lies in directors. Where many people follow actors around, I pant over directors. Let's face it the controlling factor of a film lies in the director's hands. A great cast, and script, and special effects team will still go limp without a good director behind the camera.Kurosawa, Welles, Truffaut, Scorsese, Bergman, these are the words that tell me a film has potential. Not over-boiled marketing terms like "romantic" or "heartwarming" or "action-packed" or "thrill ride."But I'm digressing from my digression. What I'd really like to say is that labels and generalizations don't mean anything. Are there women who love the collected works of Steven Segal? Surely. Are there men who love to sit in a dark theatre with Meg Ryan, Audrey Hepburn and a box of hankies? Most definitely.I like good movies, whatever that means. I want something interesting and well made. If that takes a story about a group of commandos fighting an alien in the jungle, then fine by me. Or if it means a three-hour drama about a homosexual AIDS patient dealing with the loss of her cocker spaniel, then so be it. In the end I don't care how they market a film, or what labels they throw on the DVD box, as long as the cinema moves, excites, and changes me.From: Bennett Dawson To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksI'm not much of a "guy flick" kinda guy. I enjoyed the hell out of the Terminator series, but have never had much interest in Rambo or anything starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I need more than blood an' guts an' fast action to keep my attention, I need PLOT, and intelligent DIALOG, and crafty camera angles that add to the overall feel of the scene. That said, some flicks are SO girly that I won't even give 'em a chance. My lovely wife has no chance at all of getting me to watch such sappy crap like Bridges Of Madison County or Little Womenor An Officer And A Gentleman (gag). Ya gotta draw the line somewhere!But there is a middle ground in film land, and it's filled with gems that appeal to the inner me, my unique mix of mach-emo, the yin-yang of my center. Borderline stuff like Fried Green Tomatoes, Ghost, Chicken Run, Forest Gump, Little Big Man, True Lies, American Beauty, The Shawshank Redemption... Okay, not all of those were borderline examples, but I do love 'em all.I believe that truly Great films have scenes that lodge somewhere in your brain forever and ever.It's funny, but one of the best chick-flick/macho-flick comparison scenes comes to you courtesy of Sleepless In Seattle. One of the ladies is weepingly describing how romantically tragic An Affair To Remember is, and the guys in the room use the same weepy, sobby descriptions to tell the story of The Dirty Dozen."...An' then (sob) OJ gets shot (weep weep) an' before he (choke) dies, he (sob sob) drops the (weep weep) hand grenade down the (gasp sob) chimney." It's a scene worth watching, even if it comes from an admittedly classic chick flick. Guys, bring a hanky. But what I really need is more flicks like Fight Club. A masterpiece what grabbed me by the sack with the hottest 15-second sex scene ever printed to celluloid, great acting, amazing screenplay, and masterful cinematography. Is that too much to ask?From: Aaron Fleming To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksHmm, is film taste connected to gender? Stereotypically it is of course, ya know, guys (that is, real men with their hairy chins and...vests and stuff) like the kind of movie that features males with heaving musculature brawling with other males of similar dimensions, and the ladies like it when a mother and daughter have a soul-bonding trip across middle America involving massive increments in Kleenex's profits. Is that indeed the case?I don't know. Generally I'd sneer off a floating projectile of `meh' in the direction of each of those sub-genres. True, if it were a toss up between explosion-laden action flick and weepy true story, I wouldn't waste any time announcing the declaration of "bring on the Lundgren!" At least there'd undoubtedly be a collection of moments where one inept actor is forced to express emotion but fails miserably due to that inextricable lack of talent, or we find ourselves embroiled in some sort of drunken dancing shimmy, where our very essences have been refracted onto the screen in a flash of hand canons and gatling guns. I don't envision any such happenings in the weepy, or in the relationship film. When was the last time Meg Ryan decided she would break up with her man (Peter Gallagher or someone) by spouting an assortment of biting one-liners? Or Sandra Bullock went into training under some mystic in order to woo her male conquest? I don't think it happened I'll tell you that much!As for my own tastes, I'll have to align myself with Mr. Mathew Brewster's inclinations to give more credence to a film's director than any cluster of genre buzzwords. Stick a wonderfully embolden Cronenberg on that flick and I'll be sycophantically wandering around telling all the infidels about how it'll be the film of the year and how it'll blow the metaphors out your very analogies. Look at the symmetry on the `v' in Tarkovsky, or the wonderful shadow below the `i's in Miike, it's a veritable orgasm of class. So whether Jean-Pierre Jeunet makes a film about nasty cannibals hanging around a butcher, or a film about how some lovely lady touches the lives of her neighbours, it's all good to me.From: DJ Radiohead To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksI have all the stereotypical aversions to chick flicks most guys would likely have. Of course, I think most of the action films aimed at men are rubbish as well. A movie whose main ingredients are former wrestlers and giant fucking explosions are about as likely to be shit as a Julia Roberts movie. Johnny Cash summed up what is wrong with most love songs and love stories whether written or filmed in the liner notes of his Love, God, Murder box set: What has happened to our love language? We have brought it down to three-minute sound bites - sandwiches in cute words that rhyme. And it's a shame that those love songs are played everywhere with no follow-up kisses to seal the words. So many of these movies have cheapened the experience and feelings of love. Hollywood makes movies about immature love. I am all for escapism in films. I am all for seeing love and humanity portrayed as it should be or as it could be. However, real love and the love Hollywood depicts are about as different as a wank or dry hump is from making love: the entire time you are going through the motions you find yourself wishing and yearning for the real thing. Your loins will settle for a dry hump but your heart, mind, and soul are not so easily fooled. Titanic tells the story all wrong and it won 13 fucking Oscars! Kate Winslet meets Leonardo DiCaprio on a fucking boat and mistakes those intense feelings of infatuation and lust for undying love. The love story of Titanic is not the three hours we spend watching Kate and Leo run around on a sinking-ass boat. The love story is the lifetime Kate Winslet's character spends with the man she later marries and the family they raise together. Even on the rare occasion when the stories being told are less insipid than the characters telling them, they do not seem real or even believable. I do not know the people in these movies. I love Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer as actors and have enjoyed many of their films. Al Pacino looks only slightly more like an ex-con turned fry cook than Michelle Pfeiffer looks like a waitress trying to escape the pain of an abusive relationship in Frankie and Johnny. Should that matter? Probably not, but it does to me. In what parallel universe is Janeane Garofalo so repulsive she would need Uma Thurman to fill in as her body double to get her a man (The Truth About Cats and Dogs)? Granted, Uma Thurman ain't too bad ugly, but you get the idea. I guess I sound bitter and I suppose I am. I can attribute this bitterness to a lifetime spent developing well-honed neuroses. I never fancied myself much an object of desire in the eyes of the fairer sex and this was one area where most of the fairer sex seemed to agree with me. Watching a load of beautiful people decry their lack of sex or how they could never meet anyone interesting went up my ass sideways. I used to feel bad when I watched chick flicks during my single years because they fanned the flames of those well-honed neuroses. I did not feel inspired or touched or moved. I felt cheap and bad and lonely. I do not know why I continued to watch them. I guess I was just bored or I really was that lonely. Caricatures would profess undying love in dramatic language and I was just positive no one would ever feel that way about me. I was wrong about that. I met the Wife to Whom I Am Married while in college and I experienced love "Hollywood-style." Then we grew up and our love grew up and we grew together. That is what Hollywood leaves out and that is what Johnny Cash meant. Love gets so much better than the acrobatic sex acts (not knocking those, by the way) or the roller-coaster ride where each and every moment feels 1,000 times bigger and more intense than it actually is. The flames die down but the heat never does. Maybe that does not make for such a good film but then someone in Hollywood approved the script for Can't Hardly Wait.From: The Duke To: The Hot Topic Team Re: Chick FlicksIt might be that I'm a big ol' poof and a ponce and a nancy-boy girly-girl, but the fact of the case is as follows: I adore the very sodden guts out "chick flicks". Or at least the good ones. Because here's the thing, like everyone has said, pretty much, a good film is a good film, whatever genre it fancies itself a part of. But if we are to assume, as Sir Fleming did, that two flicks are being presented to yours truly, and that I know nothing about them save for the fact that one's called some shit like Zero Degree X and the other's called Two Folks Love For A Time, I'm gonna go with the fella meets the lady and the lady likes the fella but woe! He's married to some filthy whore treats him like a bag o' busted bladders. Dump that ho, I'll say, and get with that woman writes you songs and then sings them to you but pretends they're covers of Sheryl Crow b-sides cause she knows you got a ring on yonder finger. Also, such a motion picture is more likely to feature Kirsten Dunst and be written and directed by Woody Allen. I don't think it's a gender thing; it's just a taste issue. It's a damn filthy lie that folks are more likely to wanna see Steven Seagal (with Vinnie Jones as "Henry") blowing shit out a freight-train if'n they've got a willy twixt their pegs. You either dig the smush or you don't, I dunno if a hoo-hah makes any difference. As Sirs Saleski and Dawson pretty much said, guns and explosions just bore the shit out my belly-pipes. But a shot of two folks holdin' hands side the river, well, most likely that'll have the tears carvin' trenches 'long my jowls and a smile size o' Kansas on my yap. But if the rest of the flick sucks, well, don't matter how many montages it's got all about he misses her, she misses him, maybe they should put their differences aside and get filthin' again, it ain't gonna save it.

Mary K. is a freelance writer living in the Greater Boston area. She is also Features Editor for Hot Psychology Magazine, and has contributed to the recently published anthology, Brewed Awakenings.

The Hot Topic: Writing Ambitions

Greg Smyth — Mon, 6 Feb 2006 16:43:40 EST

From a half-mad ragbag collective of high-minded but low paid bloggers referred to in hushed tones in speakeasies across the land as the Mondo Gentleman's Club comes the Hot Topic. Watch slack-jawed as the panel dissects the critical and cultural issues of the day! Wince as it sinks in a frenzy of angsty whining and barefaced self-promotion.Mind your heads as you enter, readers, and stick to the path...This issue: What are your writing ambitions? From: Mathew Brewster To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsI got a BA in English not because I love grammar and such, but that I love to read and figured talking about literature for a living wouldn't be such a bad thing. Plus English degress have minimal math requirements. I got sidetracked in graduate school and now my degree is little more than a $15,000 wall hanging, but I digress. Along with the grammar and the literature I took some writing classes. Loved 'em.Writing was (and is) tiresome, frustrating and difficult, but extremely rewarding. I remember sitting in a poetry class getting a big ovation for one of my readings and feeling completely elated. Thus began the whispers of hope that maybe someday I could be a writer.I'm much too practical to take that whispering too seriously though. Go to your local Barnes and Nobles and count the books on the shelves. A very small minority of these books are best sellers. And these are the ones that actually make the shelves of a big giant book chain. How many books never see the light of a booksellers shelves? How many writers never get published? That's a lot to fight against.The blogging phenomenon has suddenly made writers out of all of us. Instantly I can publish my latest sublimely written piece to the world. Millions can read my work with the click of a mouse. I remember publishing those first few pieces thinking about the hordes of fans that would be entranced with my every word. Fan sites would pop up, groupies would be knocking on the door. Then I got a site meter and realized that there were exactly two people reading my blog. Me and my mom. And even she doesn't stop by that often.There might be millions of potential readers out there, but there are also millions of writers vying for attention. Even with a site like Blogcritics, bringing thousands of people to my words on a regular basis, there still isn't enough to make anything like a living out of it.So, no I have no plans of becoming a professional writer. As for goals, I don't have anything really specific in mind either. I enjoy the process of writing. I dig that Blogcritics comes with a plethora of eyes to read my writing. I hope I'm entertaining and once in a while thoughtful, or at least halfway intelligent. If I make a couple of fans along the way, then all the better.And hey, if the perfect writing gig comes up, then I can split my day job like *that*. From: Eric Berlin To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsI was a writer long before I ever thought of myself as a "writer." That label has all kinds of wonderful and grandiose and even pompous connotations, smoking jackets and rubbing elbows with intelligentsia and jumping in the Seine with a bottle of wine strapped to your abdomen, a platter of cheese plastered to your trousers and so on.Writers tend to not be like everyone else. We're weird, we see things differently. Looking back, it all kind of makes sense. I was a kid who was lucky enough to be part of a much-smarter-than-me crowd, but other than that I never fit easily into any "scene." I liked sports but wasn't much of an athlete. I adored music but turned out to be merely competent on the double bass. As I stated, I had friends but was by no means Tall Man on Campus.I was shy among those I didn't know well. I observed, sucking in the world and often making up detailed lives about strangers that I saw (often some combination of bizarre and comedic) without consciously realizing I was writing in my head. I concocted fantastical scenarios where I would swoop in to save the damsel in distress (always the pretty popular girl sitting across the classroom) from grave peril.Moving on, I have clear memories of realizing, some time in my early 20s, "Dead God, I'm a writer!" and had all the rushing feelings of power and creative destruction and terrible ego that comes along with that at such an age. However, I was also cursed with a terrible laziness that went along with that ego and clearly decided that traveling and partying and getting kicks and avoiding responsibilities were far more the way to go.You see, it was just all so hard! I had decided that to be a writer absolutely meant that you wrote novels -- and not just a novel, it had to be huge teeming piled stacks of tomes, dust billowing off the thousands of pages that you whipped off in a month's Benzedrine and instant coffee pan-dimensional muse-lock, pages that would clear the world's concerns off the map in the built up ecclesiastical mania to read my work, yes My Work, the Novelist's Grand Vision Made Real.But how do you that? Where do you start? I wrote short stories, a few that were pretty good, made awkward forays into all different kinds of styles and modes of thought. Eventually, I realized that I must delve into the novel game or die trying. I made it a bit further each time: 10,000 words about saving the world before time ended, inspired by Stephen King's The Langoliers; 40,000 words about a bizarre and updated ode to Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.Then, in 2004, I was close, by golly. Strengthened by the wisdom of Stephen King's On Writing, I was writing every bloody day. Didn't care how hard it was, how painful, how awkward the words or stilted the plot ties. 600 words, 1,100, 588.And I finished a first draft, all 85,000 reeking words of it! And yes, there's a story in there too, a surreal (yet) comedic thriller based upon my experiences playing rugby and my Animal House-esque final year of college. Upon completing, I realized that the very best parts of the story were the real parts, the actual anecdotes and scenarios and pitfalls and mania of that wonderfully debaucherous year spanning 1995 and 1996.Sometime in late 2004, as a lark and to to rest my brain while thinking about the next phase of the novel, I started blogging. It was so... easy. Easy and fun. And the instant feedback. My God, I said to myself again (not to say I am my own God, that's an entirely philosophic brain-shaker that I won't deem to get into right now), there are people who read my stuff. My shit. My gold, and all in between!And I was hooked. After a brief spout of soul doubt, I realized I had come to where I always was meant to be, cheerfully spouting off into the electronic heavens about politics and music and television and life-things, all with the Big Picture perspective I've come to see things with and, one hopes, enough comedy and interesting bit-ends to keep people along for the ride.So I take myself less seriously these days, or at least I try to! I sure do have a lot of fun though. It turned out that blogging was the place for me where "working" wasn't work at all, that my need for creative outlet and instant feedback and the occasional e-pat on the head saying, "Well my, aren't you so clever then!" could be met anytime I wanted, rain or shine, daytime or the darkest reaches of the vast electronic night. From: Greg Smyth To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsOkay, so I lied. I'm a great big faker. Sorry.You see, the original post to the Mondo Group stated quite assuredly that, yes, I, Greg Smyth, had really quite obvious writing ambitions that were easily spelled out and that left me feeling quite good about myself. "I'm a do-er", I thought to myself, "and all the multitude of plans and schemes I have are currently paying off."What a fool I am, because, as soon as the teeth of the Mondo Chattering Classes began chewing over the various novels and poems and the like that the great and good of this collective have in the backs of their minds or sitting, unedited, on their various hard drives, I felt somewhat foolish. All I wanted to do was write music reviews.Sure, I'd love to write a novel but there are two things that either put me off or prevent me from churning out the Great Masterwork. The first is that, really, I'm not sure I have the patience or concentration span to stick with one thing for so long. Second, at what point do you realise you've got sufficient inspiration or ideas to begin such a huge undertaking? That's the beauty of music writing, and I'm sure I've said this before, you're espousing on one of a thousand objects that will pass over your desk in that year, each one for both a limited amount of words and always with some ready-made frame of reference or backstory. Never, really, are you as a critic faced with the purely blank page and the very specific Fear that instills in the writer. And particularly in one who doubts his own dubious level of talent.Both Eric and Mat mention the liberation that blogging brought them. That, to me, is a whole hornet's nest that could be saved for a future Hot Topic - is blogging proper writing/journalism? But let's give it a spin here in the meantime. Blogging has meant that, when I'm sufficiently on the ball to do it regularly, I have an outlet for the finished product regardless of whether the commissioning editor of the magazine I'm pitching the samples to likes them. Prior to my introduction to blogging (and, perhaps more crucially, prior to getting a laptop and associated internet connection) I had a box file with old printed samples into which would go the latest attempt at getting a writing gig. I'd send out samples much less frequently and, so, a real lack of momentum developed and I wrote less and less. Since blogging properly, I've produced much more, and crucially, better content. Coupled with the ease of approaching editors via the likes of the internet (and, to my surprise, MySpace) I've begun to foster links with a range of publications. Hopefully one day I'll meet one who'll start to pay me!So yes, initially, my goal is to write for (and, crucially, earn money from) mainstream music publications. Ideally, I'd like to write fiction in one form or another but the question of just how inspired you need to be before you can sit down with a novel on your mind is one that vexes me. Is a germ of an idea enough, with everything coming out in the wash eventually? Will the twists and turns that your imagination will invariably take you on be reliably frequent so that you can do the high-wire without the safety net of some sort of roadmap (mixing metaphors there, but you get the drift)? Hopefully, one day I'll have to balls to find out. From: DJ Radiohead To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsThis is, quite seriously, the 11th or 12th draft of this. I beg forgiveness from whoever has to edit it. Just know it's late and the caffeine stopped working hours ago. I must go sleep now. Feel free to replace my scribblings with an excerpt from the Latvian translation of The Book of Mormon. I won't be offended.I have written, re-written, and re-re-written my contribution to this edition of the Hot Topic. In the process of trying to describe my ambitions and goals for my writing and podcasting I came to a surprising conclusion: fuck all if I know.What the fuck do I do all day and why do I do it? I can't explain it. I can't make it make a whole lot of sense.In some ways, my ambitions and goals have already been achieved and exceeded. I write pieces for Blogcritics and record a podcast. My work has been read and downloaded and listened to by people in Red states and Blue states. I have an audience. That blows my mind. "I'm bad, I'm nationwide." The real mind fuck is knowing people in Canada and the UK have downloaded and listened to my humble podcast. I am international! Holy shit.Here's the kicker: some of them liked it. The hell you say! I've written and recorded works and other people have liked them. The praise of strangers has meant more to me than the encouragement from family and friends. My mom is supposed to laugh at my jokes. When someone else does, my feet don't touch the ground for days.Want to hear something more amazing than that? I have actually liked some of my own work, too. I have been annoyingly and sometimes intolerably insecure about the quality of my own work. I am often my harshest critic. I don't like everything I do but even I have taken some satisfaction in what I have been producing as of late despite a predisposition not to see any of my own growth or improvement.Could I hope for anything more than that?Finding someone to pay me to do this would be great. Maybe some day that will happen. Maybe some day I will chase that dream and find that opportunity. There was a time when I thought anything short of that was a failure and a waste of time. It turns out I was wrong. I do not need the cash or the fame (although I will still take it) to feel fulfilled. I never would have believed I would feel this way. I am having fun doing what I am doing now. I enjoy it. It pleases me.My goals and ambitions and hopes and dreams have changed a lot just in the five years since I graduated college. Maybe someday this won't be enough. I might wake up one day and decide it's not worth it or I want more. Who knows? Hell, someday we'll all look back on this and plow into the back of a truck.Has any of this made a damn bit of sense to any of you? Me neither. I guess I am just putting one foot in front of the other, gratefully plugging away for another 24 hours. From: Mark Saleski To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsI see "ambition" as a funny sort of word when it sits in such close proximity to my name. Not that I'm a slacker or anything. It's just that things like ambition and career and success... they're sort of foreign to me.Does that mean I've been doing nothing all of these years? Of course not. Twenty-something planet-revolutions of CAD/CAM, pre-press, and various flavors of control system software. Lots and lots of bytes. Still, it never had inertia, if you know what I mean. Or... maybe it used to.But... this writing thing kind of snuck up on me and, maybe for the first time, ambition isn't such an odd concept.A few years ago I started writing music reviews for Blogcritics. Yeah, there's some inertia there. Plenty of it. The funny thing is that the source for this transformation, the push, the cause... has origins from my teen years. Many nights of scouring issues of Creem magazine cover-to-cover. Hours and hours spent in the University of Maine microfilm lab looking at old copies of Rolling Stone (Did you know they used to give out roach clips to new subscribers?!)I lived for this stuff. But.. I just could not write. Not at the age of nineteen, anyway.So what has changed 25 years later? Good question. I don't really know. Maybe I needed to read a thousand or so more books. Maybe I needed to go to a bunch more concerts. Maybe I needed to discover jazz. And Kerouac. Maybe I just needed to live.All I know is that this feels right... and I'm determined to make it work. It feels weird saying that. Good, but weird. From: Duke DeMondo To: The Hot Topic Collective Re: Writing AmbitionsIs there a thought more potent with regards stirrin' the sour waters a' insomnia than the notion that, at 63, a fella will be as far forward, career-wise, as he is at 23? (It's nothin' short a' shameful, an' a touch ironic, that I couldn't grasp a better word than career just now.) Not a day passes that I don't get myself wound up twenty shades a' mental with regards When Will Stuff Happen?When will a fella be paid to write, that he might spend his days thinkin' a' new jokes involving "fuck" an' not have to worry 'bout also, seems I'm starvin' an ain't an ounce a' chow.When will sympathetic ears light on mine net records an say "Oh, how 'bout we give you the money for to play this nonsense an also survive"?When!?The thought that, as far as statistics would suggest, never is the answer, well, that's a mighty cripplin' mind-fry right there.Getting older an' closer to the age when a fella has to say "Right then. Looks like it's the Civil Service till I end up dead 'hind a spreadsheet an' no one notices till the death-stench starts fuckin' wi' the pot-plants."The glory of the web-net is that anyone can fling words an' songs an' images up yonder an' have folks read, hear an' watch. The terror of it all is that, yeah, anyone can."Yeah, he's a writer an' some sorta song-flinger.""Wow, that's great.""Yeah, posts it all on the internet.""Oh. I thought maybe he was a proper one."It's surely not enough to produce, cause we all do that, look here, can't move for screeds an' melodies an' prose an' poetic fuckery. Some blockage up yonder, somethin' keeping a fella from slinkin' that bit further 'long the line, from the Amateur to the Professional.There's only so many lovely words a couple eyes can read before they start toyin wi the brain-glands, sayin "But if it is so very pleasant, how come The Real World remains oblivious?"What the blog tomfoolery provides is the finest tools thus spawned for grabbin' an audience, if'n a fella puts in the time. When the veil slides off the yap though, an' the realisation hangs there cross the screen, the fact that however many hits yon page gets a day, it hasn't made much difference in the ol' Life, that can be enough to stomp any ambition to globs a' frazzled shite.So we keep on keepin' on, an' the hope remains. Those bloggers done got book deals, those Arctic Monkeys used the web to kick themselves up top the Record-Breaking Debut Record Sales ladder, these things are possible.An' try not to think how tiny, tiny, tiny that percentage is. Okay people, so that's what our panel of selected bloggers had to say, now it's your turn. Do you find yourself locked in turmoil between the job you have and the job you want? Have you learned to find a happy medium that works for you? What are your creative ambitions and how do you express them? Has blogging helped you find a method of creative release or just led to niggling haven't-posted-in-a-while tension?Let us know!

Greg Smyth is a freelance pop culture writer and has written for the likes of NME, Plan B, Alternative Ulster and a host of others. He is currently based in the North East of England and lives on a diet of tea and vitamin tablets. Read more of Greg's reviews at Swing Batter Batter! or join in the wider pop-culture debate at The Mondo Project.

The Hot Topic: FM Is STEREO. Does That Really Mean Anything?

Bennett Dawson — Mon, 9 Jan 2006 12:53:27 EST

From the occasionally troubled minds of this disparate flock of bloggers, the question of whether technological advances weaken our senses is tossed about, and I revisit the lost art of installing car stereos. Plus, The Duke discusses the medical retraction of jewels, Eric admits he knows not what he does, and Mark ponders the value of internet-savvy refrigerators.From: Bennett Dawson To: The Hot Topic Team Re: FM Is StereoMy lovely wife and I were talking about those "Top-Ten Hit CDs" from the sixties and seventies. You know, the ones that get hustled on those 30-minute late-night infomercials. Me saying that they're really cool because "...those are all the songs that buzzed out of my candle wax-covered AM clock radio when I was a teenybopper..." Back in 1970, dig?My wife looked puzzled, trying to absorb a stone-age concept. AM clock radio?Before I could explain, a sideways brain connection fizzled through my synapses, and I started wondering about "when did FM start broadcasting?" and "Do I actually remember that historic event?" Yes folks, it's sad but true. In 1970, FM was just like HDTV - meaning I didn't have it.This led to a brief discussion about the difference between AM and FM, and to my surprise, my wife couldn't tell me the profound difference between the two. Now let me say that my wife is brilliant in her field of expertise, and knows many things that I haven't a clue about. But she had a slightly different upbringing (she's a girl), and was eight years further down the timeline than me. That being the case, FM radio was all she ever listened to. "All the music was on FM, and AM was all talk radio and traffic and weather."She knew that FM stations "sounded better" in her car, but that's about it. The "stereo" in the house sounded good because it had two speakers and besides, we paid more money for it than the clock radio, so it had to sound better. She never truly realized that with stereo, each speaker has slightly different music coming out of it, two distinct tracks. I have no idea what she thought about the sound system in her relatively new Jetta, with speakers every few inches in the doors and body panels. 'More speakers = better sound' is what I'd suppose. Understanding that AM is one track and FM is two tracks was not part of her grip on aural reality. She protests. "That's not true!" she says. "My CD Walkman has different sounds for each ear, I just never wondered why or how."Lemme tell ya, my generation was intensely aware of "stereo" and knew exactly what it was. Dammit, we wanted stereo! Our first used cars (junker cars from the fifties and sixties) had an AM push button radio with one speaker in the dashboard. NOT cool.So we installed a new FM radio under the dash (possibly a cassette or eight track tape player... woo hoo!) and two speakers in the rear window deck. We cut holes and ran wires and hooked up fuses, and then we cruised down the road grooving to 'stereophonic sound'.Nowadays, everything is pre wired with stereo. Teenagers don't know how to run speaker wires, what channels are, or how a noise suppresser gets rid of the clicking sound coming from the ignition system. Hell, let's be real - nowadays, kids don't even know what an ignition system is. Technology has moved on and the inner workings of a car are as mysterious as the inner workings of a nuclear reactor. If your car breaks down, you use your cell phone to call a tow truck! What other basic knowledge of 'how things work' has dropped from our pop culture? The home fuse box? Batteries? Pilot lights? Have we morphed into an icon driven world, with no understanding of what lies beneath the shiny plastic logo-embossed surface? Is it really possible to take stereo so much for granted that folks have no understanding of what they're hearing? Are we being blinded by science?Or is this just yer standard progression of technology - unfortunately revealing that I'm one old, and somewhat obsolete fella?By the way, while I was writing this piece, my 21 year-old stepdaughter called, and she has no idea what the word "stereo" means. "A synonym for sound system" was her best guess. From: Aaron - Duke De Mondo To: The Hot Topic Team Re: FM Is StereoThis is all the intriguing in the world. Maybe we ARE those icon-driven hordes ain't got a clue how the torch works but sod it, it's sleek an' white an' the ladies wanna touch me when i got it in the paw.I'm a software sort, yes, with nary a clue about hardware. I'm gonna go ahead an' reveal the age, bein' 23, an' i can assure you i ain't got the faintest a faints regarding how you might wire a plug. They TRIED to teach me, but imma go play a tune or two, if'n it's all the same. Ain't got a clue how the amp works, or the guitar, but i don't especially worry.Anecdotal aside - way back when, i remember my ex-fiancee tellin' me that her then-ex-boyfriend used to come 'round to help her dad wire electrical stuff. I think most likely my nuts disappeared somewheres midst the liver (still in there, too, fish the fuckers out wi' a coat-hanger is all a man can do). Felt like i was no kinda MALE if'n I couldn't fix the telly.Maybe it's cause a buncha youngster-types, far more than used to, are headin' in the direction a university an' theoretical based stuff, as opposed to learnin' trades an so on, which is where this kinda knowledge is handed down, i suppose. Maybe that's not the case at all, maybe i'm just justifyin' my bum-fluff an no-nuts.Regarding stereo, it all made sense to me when i played Sgt. Pepper's in the car stereo back when i was 13 or so, and realized i was only hearin' half the record. Until that point i probably assumed somethin' similar, that stereo just meant Better Sound. I suppose there comes a point when a society can forget about stuff like Mono and Analogue. The differences 'tween these things probably only have any worth to the folks who live through the change-over.From: Eric Berlin To: The Hot Topic Team Re: FM Is StereoI think we've entered the age of the super-user, where we run every aspect of our lives -- from brushing our teeth with an electric tooth brush to laying down with an electric blanket of an evening, and all the server-happy Internet play and work-related electronic tomfoolery in between -- via technology of which we haven't the foggiest notion.Take the words I'm typing right now that cause letters to magically appear on my computer screen. I have a notion that when I type a "v", a "v" appears, or that when I want to say "ultra tubular with consecrated cream cheese linings for upshot adornment of life-melted dude-scape" I can get that message across and feel quite certain I've made an ass of myself in the process.However, I have no idea how the inner workings go. I imagine there are ones and zeros and electronic processes involved, but I don't even have a fundamental understanding of the mechanical function behind an activity I sometimes spend 12-15 hours a day hacking away at.And don't even get me started with the mouse!Sometimes I think about the Roman Empire and the descent into the Dark Ages. About how the art and technology devolved from one generation to another because everyone basically forgot how it was done before. Obviously, we're not in that phase. We're in a phase of astounding innovation and bedazzling art and sights to behold that would blow the mind (a la Scanners) of an 8th-century hombre right straight.But what if we lost those folks who know how stuff works? What if they end up on the island in Lost (pushing that damned button every 108 minutes) or get herded to the Manhattan of Escape From.... fame?It's an interdependent world with all the good and bad trimmings of it, I suppose is the upshot.That, and it's utter gold to know a good mechanic who won't rip you off. From: Mark Saleski To: The Hot Topic Team Re: FM Is StereoAh yeah, so here we have another discussion where technology is concerned. More specifically the effects of "the march".It's interesting that it's mostly taken for granted that advances in technology are a "good thing". For the most part, I suppose that they are. But then I hear about events like the recent Consumer Electronics Show where concepts such as "digital lifestyle" are touted. Sure enough, we get all of these home devices interconnected and talking to each other. But do we really want to?This reminds me of back when I used to watch The Jetsons, where dinner consisted of a food pill. Gross. Perhaps even sillier than manufactured food is the very real Internet-enabled refrigerator. Oh yes, it'll keep an inventory for you. It'll notify you when it's time to buy more eggs. You've got to be kidding me. Some of this is an extension of what often happens during software development. Engineers, being the tinkering sort, can't resist adding features and/or extra layers to things. The result? Bloatware. Sometimes useful, sometimes not. Ever notice how things like "digital lifestyle" are almost always promoted by men? I don't think this is a coincidence. Don't take any of this to mean that I have the fear that these new technologies are going to complicate my life. They won't, mostly because they're not comin' in my front door. No, I don't need a digital book to take on vacation because the books that I do own work just fine. I can figure out when to refill my refrigerator using the analog method: the notepad attached to the freezer door. Music is still played through tubes and wire, because these nice digital files sound like crap. So what do we lose when nobody knows how any of this newfangled stuff works? I'm not sure. In some cases, particularly when talking about media (books, music, etc.), it puts the consumer at one more remove from the artist. I don't think that vinyl records are the 'perfect' medium, but the expansive liner notes allowed me as a fan to get to know the person at the other end. Sure, this can be done in the digital realm, but is it?Ah, maybe Bennett's right. Maybe I'm just old and obsolete.P.S. In the middle of typing this, the guy in the cube next to me was 'attacked' by his Instant Messenger -- he floated his mouse over it and it started playing a ringtone-y version of "My Humps". Now that is an advance. These bloggers have had their say, now it's your chance to chip in!Do you remember an "old way" of getting things done that seemed superior to the "newfangled" way? Do your friends sneer at your approach to fixin' stuff, amazed that you've not a clue? Or are you one of those folks totally comfortable letting "specialists" deal with the inner workings of 90% of your world? Tell us the truth, are you completely happy being a "user", with no idea how these damned things actually work? Also posted at VERMONT SPACE

The Hot Topic: Literary vs. Popular Fiction

Mark Saleski — Thu, 15 Dec 2005 09:27:12 EST

From the flapping jaws and clacking keyboards of a group of pointy-headed cultural commentators comes the not quite random musings on the topics of the day. (Or at least the topics brought up at the pointy-headed cultural commentators meetings).From: Mark SaleskiTo: The Hot Topic TeamRe: Literary Vs. Popular FictionOne of the things that finally pushed me into writing about music was one particularly snotty record review. It's the kind of thing I just can't stand. The writer has always hated the band and proceeds to spend several meaningless paragraphs coming up with 'witty' putdowns.Boring and pointless.The same thing happens in book review land. It seems like some reviewers have become so enamored of abstraction, indirect payoff (if there even is a payoff) and language gymnastics that the simple pleasure of observing an interesting set of characters moving through a plot (read: storytelling!) is just plain looked down upon.What the heck is wrong with a good story? With reading as entertainment?This doesn't have to be an either/or situation. Yes, I have read my share of classic literature including Jane Eyre, For Whom The Bell Tolls, The Grapes of Wrath and the first five pages of Ulysses. But I've also read a fair bit of critic-bane: Dean Koontz, John Grisham and Stephen King. Great storytellers. Great fun.The funny thing is that some of the very same critics who decry the state of modern literature, and who complain that the young folks aren't reading anymore, would somehow 'fix' the situation by recommending the literary equivalent of a tablespoon of cod liver oil - maybe a little 'difficult' but "good for you".Sorry, it won't work. I wish there was an easy solution to this near-war between 'literary' and 'popular' fiction. I mean...does it make me a bad person because I enjoy a story that involves an insane, murderous clown?From: Mathew BrewsterTo: The Hot Topic TeamRe: Literary Vs. Popular FictionNo, Mark, it doesn't make you a bad person if you enjoy tales about murderous clowns. But we are critics - blogcritics even - and to be a critic is to judge, to discern the quality of Art, including what we read.As writers we all strive to excel at our craft. And it is a craft and a skill to write. There are techniques and methods to writing. Anyone who knows how to spell can write, but it takes great ability and effort to write well.A few months back I wrote an essay trying to illuminate the differences between true literature and popular fiction (though there is no reason great literature cannot be popular) as seen via the works of Raymond Chandler and Mary Higgins Clark.In fact, why can't great literature be popular? The classics are classic for a reason. I fully admit that I love the classic works. I've read Shakespeare, Joyce, Faulkner and Dostoyevsky, and you know what? They're flipping amazing.Yet I'll still read Dean Koontz and Sue Grafton, but I take them for what they are - breezy, east to read bits of escapism.To me, the best books combine the literary craft of the classics with the entertaining storytelling of something more popular.Novels like The Grapes of Wrath and To Kill a Mockingbird use literary devices and sharpen their word to a fine art, while telling a story that is passionate, entertaining and moving.There is nothing wrong with reading simple, light, popular novels to escape and be entertained. Just like there is nothing wrong with watching the latest summer blockbusting eye candy, or listening to top 40 radio. But if you dare to delve a little deeper into the grand pool of High Art you may find something enlightening and beautiful.From: DJ RadioheadTo: The Hot Topic TeamRe: Literary Vs. Popular FictionI have little doubt in my mind I am going to enter this conversation as the least well-read person in the group. I am not boasting. I suppose it is a little embarrassing. I should read more than I do.As much as I enjoy writing and reading I have had very little use for 'literature.' Literature was always assigned, never chosen. I am a very lazy reader. I do enjoy reading but I am not often curious when reading. The only reason I read page one is to find out what is going to happen on page two. I am not looking for symbolism or arcane references to a this or a that. I am not interested in a 12-page description of a tree. I know what a tree looks like. Where are you taking me and who is coming along for the ride? These are the questions that propel me through a book. I love a good story.I also have a contrarian nature. I am certainly interested in expert opinions but I am not likely to blindly accept the assertions of a critic (literary or otherwise). I find a many critics are more interested in establishing their own credentials or discussing their own biases rather than review the work and discuss whatever merits it may or may not have. That snobbery has fostered my reluctance to reach for a 'classic.'All of this leads to the Hot Topic of literary versus popular fiction. In an ideal world, popular and literary would intersect more often than they do. In the world in which we live I think both have their virtues. I think there is room for both.Diversity in the literature world is a good thing. Literature and art do not have to be zero-sum games where quality and popularity are mutually exclusive values. When things are operating at their optimum from an authorship perspective we will see the challenging work out on the fringe (not that kind of fringe, Duke) occasionally shaking up the mainstream and giving it a kick in the ass.As for us readers, I should probably try to mix in a little Shakespeare with my Harry Potter.From: Bennett DawsonTo: The Hot Topic TeamRe: Literary Vs. Popular Fiction"...does it make me a bad person because I enjoy a story that involves an insane, murderous clown?"If so, the world is filled to the brim with bad people who love a good story. "Popular" fiction is tomorrow's classic fiction. The Grapes Of Wrath, however powerful I find it, was just a story written by an outstanding author. Even the Opera Snobs are fooling themselves if they don't recognize the truth about their entertainment... Classic Opera is nothing more than soap operas from back in the days before film or TV.I cut my teeth on sixth grade biographies of American heroes. Then I graduated on to Heinlein, Silverberg, and the whole genre of science fiction. My mom loathed the TV and we didn't have one in the house during my childhood, so I read a lot. Classic and modern authors, my mom had quite a collection.I see no difference Between "The Pit And The Pendulum" and Pet Sematary. Both are scary tales told by a master of the craft. King is as valid as any other author.If you learn something from the book, then it was worth reading. If the words capture your imagination and transport you to a different world, then it's a book worth owning. Nothing else matters.

Mark Saleski is a writer and music obsessive based out of the Monadnock region of New Hampshire. On his best day, he hopes to channel the ghosts of Lester Bangs and Jack Kerouac. He spends the hours of 9:30PM to 1:30AM carving out music reviews and essays for Blogcritics.org and other publications.