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Month: May 2003

The envelope, please

The 2012 Olympics has turned into quite the little microcosm of the political split over the war on Iraq. Paris just tossed its hat into the ring. The other cities bidding are New York, London, Leipzig, Madrid, and Moscow. The choice isn’t made until July of 2005, so plenty can change between now and then, but it’s still a significant group of cities.

Oh, OK. Cuba is bidding too.

I can’t see New York winning, not so much because of the political issues but because of the corruption scandals wracking the USOC. Leipzig is really too small. Cuba isn’t seriously likely. The other four… well, the IOC always says there’s no political aspect to the selection, but I still think it’ll be interesting to see how it plays out.

Wrongthink

You know, it might be dangerous to let kids play violent videogames. In this case, Washington State just made it illegal to sell videogames to teenagers if they contain violence against police. Good work, y’all! Now let’s take care of those icky books that tell stories in which there’s violence against policemen. Nasty things.

Spring in New England

It really is different out here. Not unique, I’m sure, but different.

I didn’t realize until recently how much I’d missed being a sports fan in New England. Recently? Until I settled down in Fenway Park the other day and watched Wakefield handcuff the Royals. Yeah, I think that was just about exactly the time.

The thing was, the day after the game I could talk about it with just about any native New Englander at work. The Canadians, not so much, but the people who grew up here knew what had happened and who had won and why. I can strike up a conversation about why Vin Baker is the worst thing that ever happened to the Celtics with my insurance agent. We know this crap. We, as a region, care about it.

And it’s not about success. We’re not LA. We love our crappy teams more than we love our successes. Joe Thornton gets a free ride when he gets arrested because he plays well for a really bad team. The failure of the Red Sox is mythology, and for over eight decades we have come back ready to believe once again. The Patriots, on the other hand, made the error of winning a Super Bowl. That’s a recipe for controversy.

I think we just love stories about ordinary people working hard. You win the hearts of Boston fans by being ordinary. Bird, Nomah, Williams, Borque. We didn’t love the aloof Russell, although we should have. See how it goes?

Now it’s spring. The Bruins and Celtics just made their exits from the playoffs, while the Red Sox are playing strongly enough so that we can lie to ourselves a little while longer. In a few months, our hearts will be broken on the baseball diamond and we’ll be scarred from a summer of bad personnel changes on the hardwood. Fall is the brutal months of football, when almost every game is critical. Then it’ll be spring again.

Gotta love Boston.

Pair by pair

I had a nice time this weekend ingesting the first season of Coupling, which is a pleasant little BBC comedy. Think Friends, but with more sex and cleverer writing, sort of like Sports Night but without Jeremy. (Hey, that metaphor crashed and burned. Don’t point, it’s rude.)

Alas, in England “season” means “six episodes.” Still enjoyable, and it gives me a proper base from which to mock the NBC remake. Man, that’s gonna suck.

Anyhow, it’s not terribly deep but it’s fairly witty and it’s got Jack Davenport who was so good in Ultraviolet. As the viewpoint protagonist, he’s got a fairly tough job being the straight man, and he does a good job centering the show.

Intermediated

Wired and Dan Gillmor just did stories on OhmyNews, which sounds pretty revolutionary. It’s an online newspaper (with a print component, but that’s a fish of a different color) that’s 90% written by volunteer reporters. Ah, you say, it’s Metafilter. Yes, except that the “citizen-reporters” file stories which are then checked and approved by professional editors. Really good stories earn the authors a smallish fee.

In other words, it’s news blogging with professional editors. Compare this to Dave Winer’s optimism about bloggers; note that OhmyNews is in fact having a real effect on Presidential elections in South Korea. In fact, Jon Bonne nailed it. “Professional journalism continues to exist because the public has demonstrated its need for two things: truth and convenience.” OhmyNews is a way to satisfy those two needs while still opening up a door for the amateur reporter.

Once again, forgetful

“There’s a hell of a lot of suffering and ‘injustice’ in the world, but no one besides Muslim Arabs (and non-Arab Muslims they’ve recruited) seem to be responding in this way.”

Ah, Steven.

Shining Path, Aum Shinrikyo, FARC, the Basque terrorist groups, Kurdistan Workers’ Party, the Tigers of Tamil, 17 November, and of course our own homegrown militia groups.

Oh yeah. And I heard there was some kind of terrorist group operating out of Ireland these days.

The rest of the piece is pretty goofy too. Every time someone condemns another country for not being committed to the war on terror, they ought to consider the American attitudes towards terror before and after 9/11.

Jung love in spring

My pal Rob recently uncovered something fairly bizarre. It’s a 1971 novel called The Invisibles, about — quoting Rob —

…a two-fisted psycho-pharmacologist, a kind of Indiana Jones meets Timothy Leary type, who acquires psychic powers from experiments with psychotropic drugs, and then uses those powers to fight a globe-spanning conspiracy of evil, and also to have a lot of uninhibited 1971-style sex.

The author’s other books include Society And The Assassin….A Background Book on Political Murder. King Mob was here.

Grant Morrison, come home, we believe you now. Especially about the time travel.

Someone's fault, right?

OK. this post is just beyond the pale.

The backstory: Kelley Ferguson is a stupid idiot who faked a terrorist threat in order to get out of a cruise with her parents. Missed her boyfriend. Totally stupid.

But how do you get from there to blaming Bush? “And many people, wavering between fear of the unknown and the all too casual attittude eminating from the White House, can treat a terrorist attack as a prank.”

I don’t think Bush is doing a good job setting the national mood on terrorism. The aftereffects of Gulf War II are going to matter; people can’t help but notice the lack of WMDs in Iraq and the recent Al Qaeda bombings will erode trust. Bush said that regime change would reduce terrorist threats, and that clearly hasn’t happened.

A digression: the last wave of Al Qaeda attacks came while we were debating the wisdom of war on Iraq. I said at the time that I suspected Osama wanted the US attacking Iraq. I think recent events make that even more likely; psychologically, he’s demonstrating that all that US effort (which was encouraged by the October 2002 incidents) didn’t stop him. And, come to think of it, the chances that Iraq will be run by Islamic extremists are somewhat higher (not a lot, but a little) than they were before the war — Osama’s gotten rid of his rival Saddam at very little cost to himself. Nice work. Sigh.

Back to the point. Bush is not doing a good job of anything except making us feel tough. However, you can’t bloody well blame Kelley Ferguson on that. She has parents, does she not? They are presumably not deaf and dumb; presumably they have occasional communications with their daughter, if she’s going on a cruise with them.

So how about we stop pointing fingers at the Administration, and start taking some responsibility for our own actions? Her parents fucked up. They did a bad job raising her. It is not OK to — permit the metaphor — make jokes about guns when you’re boarding a plane. I learned that lesson as a kid, and I learned it while Reagan was President. Somehow my parents managed to shield me from the awful consequences of a Republican President and taught me some common sense, miracle of miracles.

Blaming Bush for bad parenting is inane, and it speaks to one of the sadder tropes of the left wing in this country. Personal relationships have far more of an effect on children and our morals than what the government says, and individuals are not helpless. We do ourselves a disservice when we pretend otherwise, particularly when it’s for partisan reasons.

I want your

Dylan Kidd came out of nowhere with Roger Dodger, and sometimes it shows. The pacing is off, for example. But man, I’m a sucker for the rhythms of language, and Kidd has ‘em down pat here.

The plot? New York, nightlife, a pretty amazingly cynical copywriter who has only his sense of language to be proud about. Womanizing. Said copywriter’s nephew. Lessons learned.

The acting’s good. The nephew, at sixteen, nails being a tense sixteen year old geek, right down to the expectation of dot-com riches without a college degree. Campbell Scott is very good as Roger; he gives enough to let us care about him, which is pretty crucial if you’re going to be playing an asshole. Oh, and Isabella Rosselini is so very perfect. Worth it for her alone, actually.

The pacing fails in places. It’s sort of episodic, kind of in a made for television spread it out over two nights way. Apparently some cuts and additions were made after the test screening, and I think Kidd just isn’t experienced enough to do a really great job editing post-facto. Not too bad, though, it’s just that you can see the seams.

Worthwhile. I really like this kind of jagged Neil LaBute stuff, though, so if you like your movies less cynical you might want to stay away.