Sunday, April 21, 2013

Deadwood and existential filth

So, I'm making my third (and hopefully final) attempt at watching all 3 seasons of Deadwood and something struck me during the second episode:  I can take the frequent offers of 'half-price pussy' from Swearengen, the off-handed pig-on-human crime, the flurry of 'goddamned cocksuckers' that comes out of everyone's mouth non-freaking-stop.

But I cannot. take. all. the filth!

Man, Deadwood wasn't just a lawless town, it was dirty, smelly, gross town. As in: the streets are filled with dirt, the faces of the characters are filthy. I guess it should say something that the first shot of the opening credits (which are lovely and I wonder if they were done by Digital Kitchen, the shop that also did the credits for Dexter and the truly, truly brilliant open for True Blood) focuses on a puddle of muck in what-passes-for-a-street.

(I think there's also something about peripheral characters being more dirty than central characters...that's just a working theory at this point. Bullock, for instance, in the first few eps, looks like he just stepped off the soundstage of a John Ford movie:

But look at Calamity Jane—she's a mess!)

I'm no neat freak (as my nearest and dearest will tell you), but watching just a few minutes is enough to send me running for my Clorox wipes.

And not to reach for low-hanging fruit, here, but:  okay, I get it. The ever-present filth is not only historically accurate, but works well for the psychological/sociological landscape of the series.

Still and all.

Thank goodness it's Sunday night and Mad Men's on. At least the dirtiness in that show is only implied. 

I never promised you a Parade

I also never promised that I wouldn't deface (improve?) this week's Parade cover:


Friday, April 19, 2013

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Rain, insane and Michael Caine

God/Allah/Higher Power of your choice seems bent on wiping the DG off the map today with lots and lots of rain. This is the view down our driveway with a church parking lot across the street:















The insane part came earlier this morning in trying to force our two Boston Terriers outside in this end-of-days rain to go potty. Simply put: they weren't having it. The scene was far too chaotic to document, but here's a pic of Smitty, still reeling from the experience. Note the incensed, 'Well, I never!' look on her face:

And finally, here's a (hilarious) Michael Caine-off twixt Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon from 'The Trip':


Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Call your friends at Faith & Freedom today!

1-855-600-6059

That number has come up on our landline (so old school!) every day, sometimes multiple times a day, for the last month. Now that I'm home and have time to pay attention to these things, the non-stop calling is starting to drive me (more) bonkers.

Last week, I finally plugged the number into Google, only to find it belongs to my old pal, Ralph Reed and his Faith & Freedom
outfit!

Oh, Ralph, you scamp! And here I thought you crawled back into the dank hole from whence you came after the culture wars of the 90s—after you decimated the Christian Coalition and cozied up to Jack Abramoff in a scheme to rip of Indian casinos.

But no, here you are, calling me every damned day, telling me that Obama is destroying this country with his health care act and that big government is the devil and blah, blah, blah, blah.

It's not me, Ralph, it's you.

And that's why I've emailed the Illinois and Georgia States Attorneys' offices to report your sorry ass, first for violating the National Do Not Call list (which nobody seems to care about anyway), but second—and more importantly—just for being a gigantic, dumber-than-hell douche bag.

Because if that isn't illegal by now, then it should be.

So, Ralph, here's the deal: if you keep calling me, I'll keep calling you.

Everyday, same time, same station...until you either implode under the weight of your own crazy or I rip the phone out of the wall.

Whichever comes first.


Saturday, April 13, 2013

Thank you, Louie...

...for what I know will be an absolutely cathartic standup special on HBO tonight.

And for skillfully deconstructing the typical promotions that go with having a standup special on HBO.

I get it that the gold microphone thing is bullshit...but maybe try gold shoes.

It worked for Pryor.


Rachel Maddow came to Downers Grove today

Really! Which gives me hope for this godforsaken suburban hell that is DuPage County.

(Okay, okay: it's a decent place to settle and a nice place to raise kids (I assume)—but the politics out here are seriously messed up and moreover, I'm hardwired to hate all suburbia everywhere. Call it a longstanding habit.)

Anyway, thanks to my buddy Genene, I got to peek in on Rachel and the folks from Anderson's Bookshop prior to her talk at the Tivoli. At a small store next to the theater, they had formed an assembly line setup for Maddow to sign copies of her book on our ever-growing/out-of-control military industrial complex, Drift.

Two things:

1.  The folks at Anderson's were deadly serious about getting those books signed—I haven't seen such stoic, determined efficiency since my short-lived stint in my high school's color guard.
(Those bitches with the flags were so not fooling around.)

2.  Madds (that's what I call her in my head) was her usual cheery self, even pausing to look up from her signing and smile at us.

I wanted to throw myself at her feet and shout, "Please either move your show to Chicago so I can work for you or take me with you back to civilization!"

But I figured I wouldn't be the first to do that, so I restrained myself.

Looking forward to reading her book...

Friday, April 12, 2013

Do the western Chicago suburbs really suck this bad?

Because, seriously. From the DG Patch, yesterday:

I wonder if, with this 4th presumed suicide-by-train on the BNSF line in a little over one month, Metra is rethinking its 'this is not a pattern' stance.

This is what happens...

...when you order a cell phone cover that doesn't quite fit your cell phone. I'm not proud of my (literal) hack job, but I also wasn't going to pay another 13 bucks to get another one. (or argue with Cruzerlite that, despite their claims, online via Amazon, that this fits the HTC One, it's really designed for (per the packaging that showed up) the Samsung Galaxy S3.)

Full disclosure:  this phone is actually an HTC One X, so had I really been paying attention, I shouldn't have gone ordering a cover for the HTC One. And given that I've been an Apple consumer for years, I should be used to this constant flow of new versions of hardware and software, with fundamentally (and irritatingly) incremental/non-essential changes in the end product.

Basically: I'm about three steps from having a full-on old person rant about how there's just too much stuff in the world today, dammit.


And, also this.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Newsflash: chicks dig beer, too!

Thanks, Daily Herald...I woulda never known.


Lunch and free association theater

...instant udon from Costco. (I have like four paletts of the stuff downstairs in the basement, you know, just in case...)

And file this under, 'who knew?' but Nongshim, the company that makes these bowls, is working with Mr. Gangnam Style Guy in a current contest/social media promotion thingy.

On a semi-related note: I need to make an effort to seek out what appears to be the new-ish-ly emerging ramen scene in Chicago.

Also, David Chang needs to open a restaurant here, dammit.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Mad Men!

With the beginning of this week comes season 6 of Mad Men and the online universe has been entertaining itself in the last few days by endlessly speculating (like here, here and here) about what's going to happen with Don and the gang in the waning days of the series.

For a movie/TV dork like myself, Mad Men is a rewarding experience—as the Onion's AV Club points out, it's a work that holds up to...and really demands...multiple viewings to catch all the character evolution, the symbolism, the drawing out of themes in all their tangled glory.

You comp lit/film studies types out there (and God help you, if you are) will recognize this process as "unpacking[1]."

So, if you're like me (ibid last parenthetical reference) you groove on the notion that the best creative stuff inspires a larger conversation about...um, well...other stuff.

All of this is a long way of saying:  there's a new book of scholarly essays out on Mad Men, courtesy of three academics at the University of Illinois.

I picked up my copy of Mad Men, Mad World at a conversation with the three editors at a recent Chicago Humanities Festival event.

And while I am just now digging into it, I can tell you that the first essay I started, "The Writer as Producer; or, The Hip Figure After HBO," by Michael Szalay, peaked my interest.

Szalay builds on the argument that shows like Mad Men and The Sopranos mirror the workplace/labor relations involved with being a showrunner like David Chase or Matthew Weiner.

"Miller argues (Szalay citing another author here) that HBO 'represents the disorganized, decentralized, flexible post-Fordism of contemporary cultural capitalism. It relies on a variety of workers, many of whom do not have tenure and benefits, who are employed by small companies even when they sell their labor to the giant corporation of Time Warner.' 

HBO showrunners are the nexus of this reliance: they supervise their contingent labor force on behalf of Time Warner, even as they themselves work as temporary employees, albeit exceptionally well-compensated ones. 

It's worth asking whether they prove themselves worthy of this position, and of the financing that comes with it, by proposing series that advertise their willingness to participate in a predatory management structure."

Wow! First of all, I'm proud of the pop culture academics for taking the time to understand how work gets created from a nuts/bolts/money perspective--because it does, IMHO, have an impact (sometimes subtle, sometimes not) on the final product.

Second, on that last highlighted part:  this bears more consideration. The Sopranos is definitely about command and control in the workplace (and at home, in the bedroom, in your shrink's office) and Mad Men definitely covers some of that same territory.

But do I really believe that network execs greenlight based on someone like David Chase demonstrating the ways in which he could be HBO's bitch through The Sopranos?

I dunno--that's fairly diabolical, even for a network exec. I also think it gives them too much credit...or maybe I'm giving Chase too much credit.

At the same time, having worked in a much, much smaller, lower-stakes, less glamorous end of the TV biz, I can certainly agree with this:  "[Terrence Winter (Sopranos writer and creator of Boardwalk Empire) and Matthew Weiner]...represent the downward mobility of the workforce that the successful showrunner must manage even as they underwrite the aspirational hip of the market that the series aims to reach.
....
...writers for commercial television sell their labor to production companies that resell that labor (ed. note:  and at a significant markup) as creative work to networks, which sell airtime (again, at a significant markup) to corporations lured by the prospect of reaching those viewers who consume the creative work in question."

In other words:  nearly everybody is getting pimped. Shocking, that.

And if everybody at SCDP and in TV is engaged in what Pete Campbell refers to as, "business at a very high level"where does Peggy fit into all of this? She quit Don at the end of season 5, of course, so it'll be interesting to see how she's doing...and if she winds up handing Don his ass in pursuing an account, as I fully suspect she will. (Perhaps a Pyrrhic victory as Szalay points out that the whole exchange-of-creative-labor-for-pay is rigged and not in labor's favor...but one takes their victories where they can get 'em.)

Either way, 9pm tonight can't come soon enough!

My only regret is that we can't watch the whole SCDP crew in the present day dealing with things like cord-cutting, cord-nevers and what Nielsen is now referring to as "Zero TV homes."

Making the shit between the commercials is hard enough...but selling companies on the idea of commercials when nobody's watching is a higher order of black magic that even Don Draper would blanch at methinks.

[1] And if there's anything the internet was designed for, it's exactly this process, which essentially involves analyzing, cataloguing and discussing, often in mind-bendingly minute detail, the features and virtues of a creative work. Before the internet, that would have simply been referred to as, 'being a gigantic dork.' The difference now is that the hivemind has actually given this process/state of mind some street cred...






Bravo, you kill everything I love...

...and now I hate you.


Friday, April 5, 2013

Nope, I don't get Google+

And I have the sneaking suspicion that nobody is really using it...(and by 'nobody' I mean way fewer people than actively/daily use Facebook or Twitter, etc.)

Or maybe, per the Atlantic Wire, that's not the point: 

"Google has a different kind of thing that it wants to build. Facebook is the social network. Google+ is more like a "a social layer stretched atop Google," as The Next Web's Harison Weber put it. Maybe it doesn't matter that people don't visit the actual Google+ site, it isn't solely reliant on that kind of advertising, like Facebook. It can use those +1s and the social connections of the other 73 percent to better its search engine for example."

Um, okay.

But I still don't get it.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

RIP, Roger Ebert

In tribute, here's the episode of At the Movies that simultaneously made me love Ebert and want to make documentaries:


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Stepping, but most definitely not fetching

So, file this under 'totally mundane details of my terribly fascinating life':  I am trying to decide whether or not to buy pet steps for our two Boston Terriers, Smitty and Booker.

For those not familiar, this is Smitty (in blue) and Booker (in orange):

And these are the dog steps.

Call me crazy, but I just can't imagine our two hellions (or 'terriorists' as we've come to call them) happily and calmly descending down these steps (or ramp, this model is convertible) like the doggie in the picture. These are also ridiculously expensive, so there's that.

At the same time, I fear that over time, our little ones are ruining their little tendons and joints and stuff by repeated jumps into and out of our (their) bed.

Has anyone out there purchased a set of doggie steps they've been happy with/would recommend?


That was weird...

...for some reason many of the images I had posted (which were tiffs), magically turned themselves backward. I just reloaded them (this time as .jpgs) so hopefully that will take care of the issue.

Either there's something to the format of the images not agreeing with Blogger or my blog is haunted.

Or controlled by zombies. I hear they're all the rage these days...