During this pandemic, I've seen my kids do number of things that don't seem smart at all-- for example, my sixteen year old son Alex likes to cut an avocado in half while holding it in his hand, with a giant knife, while walking around the kitchen-- and it's exhausting to be constantly suggesting things that seems commonsensical, like "why don't you put that thing on a solid, less fleshy surface, and use a cutting board?"-- so when Alex wanted to watch Primer last week, I assumed it would be a disaster-- Primer is the most realistic (and the most difficult to understand) time-travel movie ever made-- Chuck Klosterman has a great essay about the film in which he lauds it to no end but he also reminds folks that:
"Primer is hopelessly confusing and grows more and more byzantine as it unravels (I’ve watched it seven or eight times and I still don’t totally know how it works)"
so I advised my son to turn on the subtitles, but he refused-- he wanted to "do it the hard way"-- and I told him that it took me a couple viewings to get it, and some charts, and a whiteboard . . . and then we watched the movie and he understood the first time through . . . and not only that, he predicted the existence of the failsafe machine-- a plot device I did not understand until I had watched the film a half dozen times . . . he said that taking A.P. Physics helped him understand the incomprehensible jargon at the start of the movie and the rest . . . well, though this is the same kid that picked up a rotisserie chicken with cloth oven mitts (because he thought you used oven mitts to pick up things that are hot . . . I had to explain that if the item is hot, moist and greasy-- then you DON'T use oven mitts) but despite the e lapses in common sense, I think it's time for me to admit that his brain might function a lot better than mine (he is taking four AP classes this year and aims to be an aerospace engineer . . . maybe someday I'll convince him to read Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow).
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query primer. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query primer. Sort by date Show all posts
Primer for the Clueless
Charlie Sykes tweeted this image with the caption:
Kind of amazed this pr campaign wasn’t enough to save Alex Jones on Twitter
and the podcast Reply All #126: Alex Jones Dramageddon does a fantastic job explaining what it all means . . . to get the joke in all of it's glory you need to know about: Alex and Jones and Marco Rubio nearly got into a fistfight; the irony that alt-right-trollster Laura Loomer got drowned by an auctioneering Republican congressman in a hearing about letting idiots like her have freedom of speech on social media; Colin Kaepernick is the face and voice of a new Nike ad campaign; our government briefly entertained the idea of making a "gay bomb" . . . but only in the sense that the idea came up in a brainstorming session for theoretical speculative weapons; Alex Jones believes that the government is drugging us with chem-trails and hormones in the water and that the proof of this is that there are pesticides that can turn male frogs into female frogs . . . he links all this together in a wild and entraining conspiratorial rant . . . before this podcast, I had heard of Alex Jones and knew he was some kind of alt-right figure, but had no idea of how he operated; this episode is an excellent primer into that strange and wild world of right-wing-conspiracy nuts.
I've Had It With These Motherf@3king Snakes in This Motherf$5king Time War
Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone's short sci-fi novel This is How You Lose the Time War is the opposite of Shane Carruth's independent film Primer. This could be a good thing . . . or not, depending on how you like your time travel.
Carruth likes it "realistic," which is utterly absurd. The movie is called Primer because-- if you've got the focus and intelligence-- you'll learn all you need to know about the ethical ramifications of a very specific type of team travel.
This is How You Lose the Time War is far more psychedelic. And it's a love story. We follow two female time-operatives through the myriad strands of time warfare. Red works for Agency and Blue works for Garden. Each faction is trying to create the best possible future for themselves.
In the midst of this, Red and Blue fall in love, and learn to communicate in odd and creative ways. The novel alternates between narrative and epistolary modes. It's fun, but a bit repetitive. Nothing much is explained. Red and Blue are certainly cyborg-like post-singularity entities. They occasionally land in past events that are recognizable (sort of). Shakespeare's London-- but Romeo and Juliet might be a comedy or it might be a tragedy. Depends on the thread. Dinosaurs. Atlantis. The time of Caesar. And other time periods that have mutated beyond recognition.
The book is an earnest version of Rick and Morty. It especially evokes the latest episode:"Rattlestar Ricklactica."
When I watch Rick and Morty, I usually don't worry about the plot too much. The time travel plot in "Rattlestar" is especially insane. But apparently, it can be explained, and this nice man does it in the video below. It takes him 24 minutes! To explain a 24 minute show.
If this video isn't enough, there are a bunch of others that break down the episode. Wild.
The Main Thing About the Future is You're Not In It
If you're a fan of Shane Carruth's time-travel film Primer-- which Chuck Klosterman called the finest and most realistic time-travel movie ever made-- then you'll love reading How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe by Charles Yu . . . it's a novel wrapped in a paradox of a conundrum, with charts and footnotes to aid and abet your confusion; at first, I pored over the diagrams and tried to understand the timeline, but soon enough I gave up (the same thing happened with Primer . . . I could look at this chart for the next twenty years, then time travel back to now and do it all over again, and I still wouldn't understand it) and I just forged ahead into the future of the story, turning pages whether I fully understood them or not, just as I'm doing with my life
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Does Dave Possess Agency?
Agency is book two of William Gibson's "Jackpot" trilogy and while it's not as difficult a read as the first (The Peripheral) it is still unnerving because nobody is where or when they seem; the jackpot is only a prize for those who survived this ironically named ecopolitical apocalypse in the near future-- those who made it to the other side of the pandemics and massive climate change and political fallout enjoy a world recovering: low population, greater technology, and some methods of reversing the damage humanity has done; there is also massive quantum computing and through this "server" those rich and powerful enough can send information backward and forward through time-- so it's a time travel story, but even more complicated than Primer . . . no one is where and when they seem-- powerful folks in the future start new "stubs" when they contact and meddle with the past, which they do in drones, with AI, and in various networks-- the perspectives shift rapidly-- you could be in 2136, occupying a drone in 2017-- you could be in 2017, embodying a peripheral in 2136-- and you could be relaying information back and forth, changing timelines in the past and future as you relay information and technology . . . you might be a government agency doing this, a rogue agency, you might be a corrupt plutocrat from "the klept," or even disembodied AI with agency . . . I've read the entire William Gibson ouvre and I trust him implicitly as an author, that's why I hung in with these two books-- and while there aren't giant epiphanic revelations at the end, you get the hang of the way things work (in the same time frame as the characters, often) and I'm interested in how he finishes this subtle exploration of free will and determinism turned on its head.
It's The Fortnight of Time
Due to a serendipitous confluence of influences -- including the annual "spring ahead" of Daylight Saving Time, the fact that I'm a few hundred pages Neal Stephenson's epochal science fiction novel Anathem, the coincidence that Stacy and I just showed the most realistic time travel movie ever made (Primer) in philosophy class (it's also the most difficult time travel movie ever made -- it's fun to team teach something that neither teacher understands . . . and then we have the students read Chuck Klosterman's time travel essay, where he confesses that he didn't understand the movie either) -- anyway, due to this convergence of time-themed stuff, my mind has been preoccupied with all things chronological . . . and so when I asked my class on Monday "How is today an example of time travel?" they instantly got the answer: that we had all travelled into the future an hour because of Daylight Saving Time . . . and in some more rational parallel universe, where they don't practice such absurd manipulation of the clock -- we were all still sleeping in our warm beds or perhaps just waking up and sipping coffee, instead of sitting in class, bleary eyed, wishing we had time machines so that we could go back in time and sleep more . . . and I'm probably going to keep obsessing on this theme, and my wife won't let me talk about it any more at home -- the blog is my only outlet -- so I apologize, but there is probably going to be a fortnight's worth of time posts.
The Things You Find Important? Most People Don't Give a Fuck . . .
I was very excited for school today because-- due to a serendipitous string of coincidence-- my senior English class was expecting a visit from Academy Award-winning director Marshall Curry; Curry won the Oscar in 2020 for his short film "The Neighbor's Window"-- which is based on this amazing true podcast-- but we were having him in because my students watched Street Fight, which is the story of the 2002 Newark mayoral election . . . a charismatic and intelligent grassroots candidate named Cory Booker took on machine politician and uber-charlatan Sharpe James in a profound battle of political rhetoric; the documentary was nominated for an Oscar and it's one of my favorite movies of all time-- if you haven't seen it, check it out . . .
anyway, I've used this documentary for many years at school and it's an excellent primer to teach kids about the reality of elections and political rhetoric-- it's also nonpartisan: both Booker and James are Democrats . . . Republicans aren't really a factor in Newark, so that makes it perfect for the classroom as well . . . so this year I wanted the kids to watch it and connect it to our skepticism unit-- conspiracy theories, fake news, logical fallacies, etc.-- but school is remote, so to ensure diligent viewing, I made an epic forty question digital quiz about the documentary-- it's partly humorous but it definitely checks to see if you fell asleep during the video-- EVERYTHING is in there-- and my friend Ann went to school with Marshall Curry's wife so she has a connection to him, and she sent him my quiz and he thought it was hysterical and offered to visit the class and do a Q and A session . . . very nice of him;
I was REALLY excited for this event-- I had the kids draft questions and I sent a detailed email to the principal explaining my lessons on political rhetoric and how I connected the film to them, and I gave him examples of the assignments the kids were doing-- the kids always love the film and do great work-- and I wanted to alert him that we were getting a surprise visit from a very successful director; oddly, the only thing I got back from the principal was a forwarded email that said "Fill out the guest speaker form" . . . that's it . . . nothing else . . . no "wow!" or "cool!" or "these are really great lessons and I'm impressed that you managed to get an Oscar winner to come to virtual school" and while I shouldn't be surprised-- it's rare that anyone cares about what you care about-- the disconnect seemed pretty weird; he should have at least feigned some enthusiasm; so I filled out the guest visitor form and sent it to the vice-principal in charge of guest visitor form (and received no "nice job!" or kudos from him either) and I set up my Teams Meeting, sent the link to Marshall Curry, put his phone number in my phone-- in case of emergency, he graciously provided it-- and then met with my class a bit early and set up a Google Doc Question Queue so we wouldn't have any dead time or repeated questions . . . and then 10 AM rolled around and . . .
he couldn't get in . . . despite the fact that we had tested the link from an outside email, it wouldn't work . . . so I had to set up a Zoom Account and meeting on the fly-- I had to click on captcha boats and stop signs to get things running;
in the end, we got a meeting going and Marchall Curry and my students were fantastic; he talked a lot about how taking 200 hours of film-- captured over five months-- and eight months of editing (and learning to edit because he couldn't get a grant) made him a much better writer . . . he learned that everything is perseverance and revision and his words of advice: "you can fix something, but you can't fix nothing," will work really well in all my classes;
anyway, after the presentation, I emailed the vice-principal and told him my guest visitor couldn't get into the meeting (despite the fact that I had filled out the form) and he wrote back, "yeah, we've had some trouble with that" and while I refrained from sending a follow-up email, I was seriously wondering why he didn't tell me that BEFORE my guest visitor . . . but despite the apathy of my admin for such a cool event, everything went as well as it could and hopefully it will be something the kids remember in a very monotonous year; my big three takeaways are this:
1) it's all in the revision and editing . . . very few people do anything good on the first try;
2) choose a topic that has a narrative arc built into it-- like an election;
3) you can fix something, but you can't fix nothing.
Notes to Future Self
We watched the time-travel movie Primer in philosophy class last week, and while the plot of the movie is close to incomprehensible (although there are plenty of explanations out there on the internet . . . but those are incomprehensible too) the central premise is easy enough to understand; Abe and Aaron keep looping back in time, in a rather short span, and they screw with their future selves-- Chuck Klosterman calls them "ethical Helen Kellers" . . . and this makes a terrible mess of their lives, their relationships, their careers, and their physical well-being; this leads to some mundane questions which we all need to address-- because we are all slowly traveling into the future:
1) how should you ethically behave towards your future self?
2) what do you owe to your future self?
3) are you your future self?
4) is your future self someone else?
and while my philosophy class had a great time with these questions (and my examples . . . Past Dave decided to get a tattoo of a giant lizard ripping out of Past Dave's shoulder . . . he had very little consideration for Future Dave, but-- on the other hand-- Past Dave started diligently practicing the guitar in his twenties and travelled around the world, giving Future Dave some rudimentary musical skills and some vivid memories of the Middle and Far East . . . and so you should realize that when you go for a run, you are helping out your future self, but when you drink a bunch of beer and eat a cheesecake, then not so much) and this finally led us to a very weird place, because the newest findings about human memory conclude that every time we recall something, we alter that memory slightly, and our cells and tissue are dying and being replaced all the time . . . and so our Future Selves really are quite different than our Past Selves-- in a sense they are a person only tangentially related to our Present Selves . . . and so it is difficult to be super-concerned with them, yet we know if we start saving money now, or learning Japanese, then this Future Person might really benefit, and this logic finally leads to the Ship of Theseus thought experiment and the ultimate question: is this Porsche really a Porsche?
1) how should you ethically behave towards your future self?
2) what do you owe to your future self?
3) are you your future self?
4) is your future self someone else?
and while my philosophy class had a great time with these questions (and my examples . . . Past Dave decided to get a tattoo of a giant lizard ripping out of Past Dave's shoulder . . . he had very little consideration for Future Dave, but-- on the other hand-- Past Dave started diligently practicing the guitar in his twenties and travelled around the world, giving Future Dave some rudimentary musical skills and some vivid memories of the Middle and Far East . . . and so you should realize that when you go for a run, you are helping out your future self, but when you drink a bunch of beer and eat a cheesecake, then not so much) and this finally led us to a very weird place, because the newest findings about human memory conclude that every time we recall something, we alter that memory slightly, and our cells and tissue are dying and being replaced all the time . . . and so our Future Selves really are quite different than our Past Selves-- in a sense they are a person only tangentially related to our Present Selves . . . and so it is difficult to be super-concerned with them, yet we know if we start saving money now, or learning Japanese, then this Future Person might really benefit, and this logic finally leads to the Ship of Theseus thought experiment and the ultimate question: is this Porsche really a Porsche?
Holes in the Loop
Not much to complain about with Rian Johnson's new time travel movie Looper -- the visual effects are gritty and realistic, Bruce Willis is still Bruce Willis (though he's a lot older than when he did my favorite time travel movie, Twelve Monkeys) and the plot is far easier to navigate than Primer . . . but it's still a time travel movie, which means when you think too hard about it, it doesn't make complete logical sense . . . I won't get into any spoilers here, but my advice is this: watch it, but don't think too hard about it . . . Bruce Willis gives his younger self the same sort of advice that Al -- the time travelling diner owner in Stephen King's time travel novel 11/22/63 -- gives Jake Epping: "If we start talking about it, we'll be here all day, making diagrams with straws."
Klosterman and I Agree About Madmen
It took me a day and a half to ingest Chuck Klosterman's new book Eating the Dinosaur, and though there were some new ideas for me to devour-- on Kurt Kobain vs. David Koresh and ABBA and Ralph Sampson and Garth Brooks and laugh tracks and the inability of Ralph Nader to lie and why this is a problem in politics and the paradoxical identity of football (which appears to be the most conservative sport-- think Brett Favre and Vince Lombardi-- but is actually the most dynamic and liberal in nature . . . as it has evolved from the forward pass to radios in quarterbacks helmets, from rugby-esque to the read option and the spread offense, etc.) but the scary and entrancing and ultimately annoying bulk of the book is about things that I already love, such as the time travel movie Primer and Werner Herzog and Erroll Morris and the Unabomber Manifesto and Stephen King and Arrested Development and David Foster Wallace and Weezer and Madmen and this is ultimately annoying because he feels the same way as me about these things (and many more) but his ideas about them are more clever than mine and they are better articulated, because he's a professional pop-culture critic, so while on the one hand I am fascinated by what he is saying, on the other, I'm annoyed that I didn't think of it myself-- it's about Weezer, for Christ's sake, not the human genome!-- and for me this was most acute in his essay entitled "It Will Shock You How Much It Never Happened" where he dissects a press release from Pepsi and then makes some comparisons to Don Draper and Madmen and he transcribes and analyzes Don's monologue about the Kodak carousel and nostalgia-- and this is my favorite moment in TV history . . . it's the end of season one of the show, and no one else appreciated it at my workplace, but at least Klosterman did-- but then it made me wonder about this whole other idea, which is: is Klosterman just predicting what the faux cool nerdy hipster types who also like athletics like to read and watch and listen to, and are we that easy to predict and thus he writes about those things because he knows this is what will sell?-- it crossed my mind for an instant, but if that's so then the joke is on him, because he has embraced these things so fully and thought about them so deeply that whether he's joking or not, he is sincere.
Weather is Everything
Finally, some decent weather . . . high 70s and East winds down in Sea Isle, I finished "Nemesis Games," the fifth book in the Expanse series and this one is very similar to the show, we played tennis and basketball and spikeball and pickleball without sweating profusely, Alex finished Dark Matter so we got to talk through all the silliness of that book and compare it to Primer, Dom and Connell have been staying up late every night, we saw LeCompt, meatballs and pulled pork we're great, kids have been getting along and haven't gotten in too much trouble, lots of jamming in the house, etcetera, all the normal beach vacation stuff but with better weather.
The Usual Bullshit
Things pretty normal around here . . . or what passes for normal these days:
1) my older son Alex made my wife and I see the movie Barbie . . . and it was actually pretty good: visually appealing; often funny; surreal; great outfits; got a little preachy at times, but not overwhelmingly so . . . and I really loved all the "Ken" stuff-- especially how he lost interest in the patriarchy when he learned it wasn't all about horses;
2) Ian slammed the van into a pole at the gas station, trying to avoid a truck with a trailer-- so now there's another dent, another white streak of paint-- from the pole he hit-- and a black streak too-- but nothing a rubber mallet and some duct tape couldn't fix and at least no one was hurt and no insurance was necessary-- but this car's monetary value has certainly dipped into the negative;
3) once again, I am very sore from the stupid kick-boxing class-- probably because I followed up the class with an hour or so of applying primer to the hard to reach areas of our back deck -- so that Cat can paint it before Ian's graduation party this weekend . . .
4) a lady and a little kid showed up at our door today and handed us Ian's wallet-- which she found on a path while they were geo-caching-- very nice of them-- Ian didn't even know his wallet was missing;
5) and this is the summer of girlfriends-- both boys are spending a lot of time with their respective chicks-- interesting.
Everything is More Difficult Than It Looks on YouTube
I got a pair of GoSports Bamboo cornhole boards for Father's Day. Regulation size. But, apparently, if you want them to hold up, you have to finish them yourself.
I got some help from my artistic son Ian, but this still proved harder than it looks. There are many, many YouTube videos on the subject. The guys in them are enthusiastic and competent. Like this guy:
Since I do things half-assed, we didn't follow all those instructions. Instead of using rollers, we found some gray and black cans of spray paint and primer in the shed. We decided to use those colors. I didn't want to go out and buy a bunch of paint and rollers and stuff. We primed it gray, taped off some triangles, masked the rest, sprayed the triangles black, and then Ian tried to paint a fish on the board. That didn't work out so well.
We found some yellow spray paint, so we reset and repainted and then made a stencil of a sun. A sun seemed perfect because if you screw up a bit and the paint bleeds then it still looks like a sun, just with some extra photons racing away from the gigantic explosive ball of hydrogen and helium. The sun should also prove to be a good target for the bean bag. Hit it and the bag will slide at the hole.
The last step is ridiculous. You need to seal the board with either polyurethane or polyacrylic. I chose polyurethane because though it is uglier and gives the board a weird amber sheen, it makes it impervious to water.
Folks recommend five to ten coats of the stuff. It takes about two hours to dry in between coats. TEN COATS? Fuck that. I did five. I'm always impressed by the time and patience these DIY folks possess.
You have to sand the board before you apply the last coat. My boards are fairly (but not perfectly) smooth. You use a foam brush and it's hard to apply an even coat. Polyurethane is thick and gooey. The only way to get it off your hands is with vegetable oil. Grossness all around.
I hope I don't have to do this again anytime soon.
Now I'm supposed to wait 72 hours before using the boards. 72 hours! This is insane. I really want to throw a beanbag at my newly finished board, but I'll have to wait until Sunday to do so.
I got some help from my artistic son Ian, but this still proved harder than it looks. There are many, many YouTube videos on the subject. The guys in them are enthusiastic and competent. Like this guy:
We found some yellow spray paint, so we reset and repainted and then made a stencil of a sun. A sun seemed perfect because if you screw up a bit and the paint bleeds then it still looks like a sun, just with some extra photons racing away from the gigantic explosive ball of hydrogen and helium. The sun should also prove to be a good target for the bean bag. Hit it and the bag will slide at the hole.
The last step is ridiculous. You need to seal the board with either polyurethane or polyacrylic. I chose polyurethane because though it is uglier and gives the board a weird amber sheen, it makes it impervious to water.
Folks recommend five to ten coats of the stuff. It takes about two hours to dry in between coats. TEN COATS? Fuck that. I did five. I'm always impressed by the time and patience these DIY folks possess.
You have to sand the board before you apply the last coat. My boards are fairly (but not perfectly) smooth. You use a foam brush and it's hard to apply an even coat. Polyurethane is thick and gooey. The only way to get it off your hands is with vegetable oil. Grossness all around.
I hope I don't have to do this again anytime soon.
Now I'm supposed to wait 72 hours before using the boards. 72 hours! This is insane. I really want to throw a beanbag at my newly finished board, but I'll have to wait until Sunday to do so.
There's No "I" in AI
My newest episode of We Defy Augury, "There's No "I" AI: Good Writing, Intentionality, and a Plethora of Other Shit" collects some of my thoughts and lessons that are (loosely) based on William Zinsser's classic primer On Writing Well (and impacted by the current AI writing revolution) . . . Special Guests include George Carlin, Spirograph, John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Simple Minds, El Guapo, Hefe, and Donald Trump.
The Test 72: Happy Apocalyptic New Year!
This week on The Test, hunker down with the gang and get ready for the inevitable . . . the end of days are near, but this eschatological primer (provided by Cunningham, in the true spirit of the theme, without any technology) will prepare you for what's coming . . . and there is no doubt that we've got our bases covered: Stacey brings the guns, Cunningham purveys the spiritual nonsense, and I provide the useless information.
How To Deal With The Grandfather Paradox
Stephen King dismisses the "grandfather paradox" and other meta-logical nonsense (such as the craziness developed in the great but painful to untangle film Primer . . . if you want to read about time travel paradoxes, check out Chuck Klosterman's essay) because King has bigger fish to fry in new fantastic new novel 11/22/63 . . . such as what would happen to the universe if JFK had never been assassinated, and how far would a man go to prevent this event . . . so when the narrator is debating whether to become embroiled in the time travel plot, and he asks Al-- the diner owner who has access to the time portal which sends whoever walks through it back to the same sunny day in September of 1958 -- "Yeah, but what if you went back and killed your own grandfather?" Al simply stares at him, baffled, and replies, "Why the fuck would you do that?"
For Once In My Life, I'd Love To Be On The Inside
The first half of Charles Ferguson's documentary Inside Job is a clear review of the causes of the 2008 global financial crisis-- the film explains collateral debt obligations, synthetic mortgage backed securities, credit default swaps, highly leveraged banking, banking deregulation, the merging of investment and traditional banking, and sub-prime mortgages . . . if you haven't done your reading, it's a good primer on these subjects, and there is some excellent footage of Iceland as well-- but the second half of the film spirals into less focused frustration and anger (despite some inspirational and slightly cheesy narration by Matt Damon) and the big players either refuse to be interviewed (Henry Paulson, Ben Bernanke) or hem and haw under aggressive questioning, which is satisfying in one sense, but really doesn't help to explain anything, and then the film explores high salaries and bonuses for Wall Street traders and the culture of excess-- there's some rather pointless gossipy chat with a high-end escort who serviced numerous Wall Street employees . . . but, honestly, as long as the system gets fixed, I could care less how the traders spend their money; despite these flaws, the movie is certainly a must see and I'm going to teach it to my students during the business ethics unit (I'll use it instead of the Enron documentary-- The Smartest Guys in the Room-- which, though it's a bit dated, has better music and a more insular and resolved story . . . though it also gets a bit off topic when it rather gratuitously explores Enron exec Lou Pi's fascination with strippers . . . I guess when you've got a documentary with a lot of numbers, you need to throw in some T&A) and another advantage of Inside Job is that it is relatively non-partisan: the film also criticizes the Obama administration for appointing the usual suspects to fix the problem (Tim Geithner and Lawrence Summers) and the film claims that Obama's new banking regulations lack teeth, and as far as I know the facts are fairly accurate . . . or as accurate as you can be when you try to make a movie about something as complicated as this.
A Review of Some Key Moments in the Film Better Off Dead
One of the joys of having children is forcing them to watch movies from your youth; Saturday night we ate tacos and the entire family enjoyed a screening of Better Off Dead, and while everyone remembers the deranged paperboy who wants his two dollars and the hamburger singing Van Halen's "Everybody Wants Some," this movie has a lot more to it than those scenes and it is much weirder than I remembered . . . here are some moments you might have forgotten:
1. Ricky's mom drinks primer and blows up;
2. the Asian brothers with a PA system mounted in their car;
3. one of the Asian brothers is mute, the other speake like Howard Cosell;
4. Lane tries to commit suicide multiple times;
5. Lane's eight year old brother learns to pick up "trashy women" from a book;
6. Lane's eight year old brother builds a space shuttle from household parts, and it works;
7. Lane transforms from a klutz to a ski-pro in the span of a musical montage;
8. Lane's car transforms from a two hundred dollar heap of junk to a perfectly restored 1967 Camaro SS with a shiny paint job, also in the span of a musical montage;
9. Monique the French exchange student next door is both an an ace mechanic and a professional ski-instructor;
10. Ricky and Lane duel with ski-poles over Monique the French-exchange student;
11. Ricky's mom creates a living slime mold when she botches a recipe, she also cooks a stew that contains a very large living crustacean and has waving cephalopod tentacles;
12. though Monique can actually speak English-- a fact she has hidden from Ricky and his mom-- she substitutes "testicles" for the word "tentacles";
13. Charles de Mar (Curtis Armstrong) wears a top hat the entire movie and-- in an attempt to get high-- snorts both jello and snow;
14. at the end of the movie, Lane and Monique somehow drive the perfectly restored Camaro into Dodger stadium, park it on home plate, and make-out (the stadium is empty and Lane has his saxophone).
1. Ricky's mom drinks primer and blows up;
2. the Asian brothers with a PA system mounted in their car;
3. one of the Asian brothers is mute, the other speake like Howard Cosell;
4. Lane tries to commit suicide multiple times;
5. Lane's eight year old brother learns to pick up "trashy women" from a book;
6. Lane's eight year old brother builds a space shuttle from household parts, and it works;
7. Lane transforms from a klutz to a ski-pro in the span of a musical montage;
8. Lane's car transforms from a two hundred dollar heap of junk to a perfectly restored 1967 Camaro SS with a shiny paint job, also in the span of a musical montage;
9. Monique the French exchange student next door is both an an ace mechanic and a professional ski-instructor;
10. Ricky and Lane duel with ski-poles over Monique the French-exchange student;
11. Ricky's mom creates a living slime mold when she botches a recipe, she also cooks a stew that contains a very large living crustacean and has waving cephalopod tentacles;
12. though Monique can actually speak English-- a fact she has hidden from Ricky and his mom-- she substitutes "testicles" for the word "tentacles";
13. Charles de Mar (Curtis Armstrong) wears a top hat the entire movie and-- in an attempt to get high-- snorts both jello and snow;
14. at the end of the movie, Lane and Monique somehow drive the perfectly restored Camaro into Dodger stadium, park it on home plate, and make-out (the stadium is empty and Lane has his saxophone).
It's Got Something to do with Pigs
Shane Carruth, writer and director of the nearly indecipherable time travel flick Primer, has now done himself one better and made a completely indecipherable film: Upstream Color . . . I got vibes of Wrath of Khan, Andrei Tarkovsky's Stalker, and Kaufman's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Adaptation . . . though I can't promise you are going to love it, I will say this, though it's a purposefully obtuse story, it's rather easy on the eyes and ears, and it's not terribly long, so give it a shot (and then you can read this insanely long New yorker analysis of what probably happened, and how it might be inspired by both Thoreau and toxoplasmosis gondii).
Hillbilly Paradoxes
J. D. Vance's bestseller Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis is an excellent primer for liberal city folks who want to learn about the culture that voted Donald Trump into office: if you go by Vance's assertions, then these white mainly Scotch-Irish generally non-college educated majority-minority "hillbilly" folks are a bundle of paradoxes:
1) they are often fiercely loyal and protective of family, especially to outsiders, but within the family there is much violence, divorce, infighting, and abuse;
2) they are vocal about the value of hard work and express a desire for jobs, but often awful about actually working-- because of factors such as frequent absences, addiction, lack of motivation, self-entitlement, refusal to pursue training and education, teenage pregnancy, and general feeling of victimization;
3) they are vocal about religion, Jesus, and church, but often awful about actually attending church-- especially in Appalachia and rural Ohio; in southwestern Ohio, church attendance is the same as in "ultra-liberal San Francisco," but folks there are afraid to admit they don't go to church, so reported church attendance is high, but actual attendance is low;
4) for those that do attend church, according to MIT economist John Gruber, people are happier, make more money, liver longer, have better health in general, drop out of high school less frequently, commit fewer crimes, and all sorts of other good stuff . . . and this appears to be "causal . . . church seems to promote good habits" but while these hillbillies-- in Kentucky or transplanted elsewhere-- are "deeply religious but without any attachment to a real church community," and thus, not receiving any of the benefits of that people who regularly attend church enjoy;
5) though liberals see them as people that could use social safety-net programs and benefits, within the community the hard-working folks see the people who take these benefits (and often game the system) as scoundrels, who are "laughin' at our society! we're gettin' laughed at for workin' everday!" and this results in the weird situation that Thomas Frank has so often written about, that the people who need the government assistance most often vote against their best interests, but it's because they often can't stomach the people in their society that need and use these programs;
6) they lionize the American military and are jingoistically patriotic, but they are disgusted with the results in Iraq and Afghanistan;
7) despite their patriotism, they don't embrace the ideas that could vault them out of their social class-- they don't trust the mainstream media, think the deck is stacked against them, and believe that if you attend a superior college and develop critical thinking skills, then you're "too big for your britches" and "uppity," and even Vance still suffers from this cognitive dissonance . . . he made it out, but still often feels regret at the culture he lost, and finds himself an alien in the oddly nice, well-adjusted, healthy, well-educated liberal elite circles that he now frequents . . . these people don't understand that the kind of folks that join the military (as he did) are far more various than the liberal stereotypes and they don't understand the kind of folks that might take a circular saw to someone's leg because of a familial insult (as his uncle once did) and they don't understand these very very tough people that need to get even tougher (and a bit more flexible) because government policy isn't going to be enough to help them . . . they're going to have to be tough enough to shed some of their old-fashioned ways and tough enough to trust the institutions and the the liberal culture they find soft and unappealing and tough enough to love their kinfolk a bit less and the future a bit more.
1) they are often fiercely loyal and protective of family, especially to outsiders, but within the family there is much violence, divorce, infighting, and abuse;
2) they are vocal about the value of hard work and express a desire for jobs, but often awful about actually working-- because of factors such as frequent absences, addiction, lack of motivation, self-entitlement, refusal to pursue training and education, teenage pregnancy, and general feeling of victimization;
3) they are vocal about religion, Jesus, and church, but often awful about actually attending church-- especially in Appalachia and rural Ohio; in southwestern Ohio, church attendance is the same as in "ultra-liberal San Francisco," but folks there are afraid to admit they don't go to church, so reported church attendance is high, but actual attendance is low;
4) for those that do attend church, according to MIT economist John Gruber, people are happier, make more money, liver longer, have better health in general, drop out of high school less frequently, commit fewer crimes, and all sorts of other good stuff . . . and this appears to be "causal . . . church seems to promote good habits" but while these hillbillies-- in Kentucky or transplanted elsewhere-- are "deeply religious but without any attachment to a real church community," and thus, not receiving any of the benefits of that people who regularly attend church enjoy;
5) though liberals see them as people that could use social safety-net programs and benefits, within the community the hard-working folks see the people who take these benefits (and often game the system) as scoundrels, who are "laughin' at our society! we're gettin' laughed at for workin' everday!" and this results in the weird situation that Thomas Frank has so often written about, that the people who need the government assistance most often vote against their best interests, but it's because they often can't stomach the people in their society that need and use these programs;
6) they lionize the American military and are jingoistically patriotic, but they are disgusted with the results in Iraq and Afghanistan;
7) despite their patriotism, they don't embrace the ideas that could vault them out of their social class-- they don't trust the mainstream media, think the deck is stacked against them, and believe that if you attend a superior college and develop critical thinking skills, then you're "too big for your britches" and "uppity," and even Vance still suffers from this cognitive dissonance . . . he made it out, but still often feels regret at the culture he lost, and finds himself an alien in the oddly nice, well-adjusted, healthy, well-educated liberal elite circles that he now frequents . . . these people don't understand that the kind of folks that join the military (as he did) are far more various than the liberal stereotypes and they don't understand the kind of folks that might take a circular saw to someone's leg because of a familial insult (as his uncle once did) and they don't understand these very very tough people that need to get even tougher (and a bit more flexible) because government policy isn't going to be enough to help them . . . they're going to have to be tough enough to shed some of their old-fashioned ways and tough enough to trust the institutions and the the liberal culture they find soft and unappealing and tough enough to love their kinfolk a bit less and the future a bit more.
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