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Author: Bryant

Through vinyl, darkly

There are three basic approaches one could take to a documentary about Jandek, and none of them are what one might normally attempt in a documentary about a musician: the man is nearly a complete mystery, so you can’t tell the story of his life. You could delve deeply into his music, performing an extended critical analysis that serves as an introduction for newcomers and a reaffirmation for the loyal fans. You could film the mirror, capturing how people react to him and what they read into the Jandek blank slate. Or you could try and unearth the answer to the mystery.

Jandek on Corwood goes for the trifecta, which is probably wise. I can’t imagine any single approach supporting an entire movie; indeed, the trio of approaches only barely keeps this movie going. The problem is that there’s so little to look at. Thirty-seven album covers, some with pictures of Jandek, and the people being interviewed. What else can you show? There’s nothing else known, and the director is reduced to long shots of scenes that evoke Jandek’s lyrics, patient pans over the address of Corwood Industries, and ominous footage of empty rooms and old-fashioned tape recorders which might be something like the environment in which Jandek records. Or not. Who knows?

I think the strongest element of the movie is the understated observation that everyone who listens to Jandek’s music paints their own picture of the man. The director never points this out explicitly, but he doesn’t really need to. We’ve got the magazine editor who thinks of Jandek almost as a spiritual guide, the guy who wrote the first published review of Jandek who uses Jandek as a way to affirm his own importance in the world (“it was my review that really kept him going, you know”), the music critic who reads Jandek as an atonal master who’s deliberately moving beyond representational art — it’s a cavalcade of opinions, which in sum make it eminently clear that when we are deprived of information we blithely make stuff up.

Hey, there’s a message there… nah, it’s just a movie about a guy from Texas who doesn’t want to communicate with people as a musician in much of any way except through his music.

Finale: about ten minutes of audio from a 1985 telephone interview with Jandek. That’s all the mystery uncovering that gets done, despite an awful lot of tease. (Look, it’s a shadowy live shot of a man in an amusement park. Could this be Jandek? Well, no. Look, it’s a close shot of a loaf of brown bread, partially eaten! Did Jandek eat this bread? Not so much.) It’s really interesting stuff for the Jandek fan, though, so all is forgiven.

It’s a good movie. If you aren’t into Jandek… well, consider it as an experiment; Jandek has sustained a complete absence of presence other than his music for over a quarter of a century and more than 35 albums. This is unique. As several of the interviewees point out, it’s part of the reason why we’re fascinated by his music.

Just unfair

Criminal, the remake of Nine Queens with John C. Reilly, Diego Luna, and Maggie Gyllenhaal; Ju-on, one of the best Japanese horror movies of recent years; Shaun of the Dead, zombie comedy; Bright Young Things, Stephen Fry doing Evelyn Waugh; and of course the three Boston Film Festival flicks I want to see this weekend. Kontroll is getting mixed reviews from Toronto, but who doesn’t like “a cute girl in a bear costume?”

This is what I get for, um… deliberately rekindling my enjoyment of movies.

Blood politics

I’m not posting this scenario because I intend to run it. I’m posting it because I like to think. Truth? I’m better at coming up with concepts than running them anyhow. This one’s a freebie; steal as you like.

It’s 1972. World of Darkness. Miami. Cuba smells like revolution and the Democratic National Convention smells like a boxing ring. McGovern has a legion of young, angry, active delegates behind him. They’d rather fight than think. Humphrey has the Machine, a political creature made of motor oil and money. To the Machine, the present moment is the last hope of traditional politics.

Everyone’s wrong; it’s always the largest hurricane in the world when you’re inside the eye of the storm.

You were turned into a vampire not more than a couple of months ago by a couple of guys pretending to be union organizers. You are weapons. You may, perhaps, be deluding yourself about this — but you are weapons: you were created in order to serve a need. Your master wants Humphrey to win. McGovern has the distinct edge.

It’s the second night of the convention, and Gary Hart — McGovern’s campaign manager — is executing brilliant procedural moves to get the right delegates seated; his floor organization is building strength. He needs to — not die, but vanish for a couple of days. He could be found in a drunken haze after the convention. That would suit; that would build the image of the McGovern campaign as a group of men unable to handle the demands of politics.

It’s the second night of the convention, and there are vampires on the floor. It is unlikely that you are alone; it is more than likely that you will meet those of your kind who wish to protect McGovern and Hart. Then again, as a vampire, alone is the default state of affairs.

Eyewitness

Not that this will convince anyone, but Lt. Col. Killian’s secretary says she didn’t believe in the CBS documents. She says, as has been hypothesized, that she would have typed the documents for him and that she doesn’t remember doing so. She was very specific about the typewriters she had available.

She also verified the content of the memos, and said that they accurately reflected Killian’s opinions about Bush.

This all jibes pretty well with the theory that Bill Burkett was the source of the memos. He believes he saw Bush’s records being purged back in 1997. He’s highly pissed off about the whole thing. I’m ready to believe that he made a stupid mistake, and that he recreated (or perhaps simply retyped) memos that summarize how Killian felt at the time.

This explains why the memos mesh with what is painfully obvious: Bush didn’t take his National Guard service too seriously, and he was willing to pull strings to make it easier on himself. It also explains the amazing coincidence that the line breaks in the memos fall exactly where Microsoft Word’s default line wrap algorithm would put them. I’ve liked the “forgeries based on real documents” explanation for a while, so perhaps I’m biased, but I think the Dallas News story linked above illuminates the entire thing quite nicely.

What, never?

This line from a CNN story on the explosion in North Korea amused me: “The White House insists diplomacy is still the best strategy, although officials say the president never takes military action off the table.”

So I have this image of aides patiently explaining that Canada has been an ally for a long long time, and that it really doesn’t make sense to invade them just because they won’t send troops to Iraq, and Bush is looking all stalwart and determined. “I just don’t think we should take military action off the table. You never know.”

Word to the wise

If you want to see the Sin City footage shown at Comicon, you can. It’s being filmed in digital on digital sets, and the trailer is really oriented towards demonstrating how well Robert Rodriguez is capturing the look of the comic book. (Answer: quite well.)

Not more of that

I just realized something about how I play My Life With Master. I don’t ever particularly care about getting to the endgame, in which the players take down the Master. In fact, I always kind of don’t look forward to it, because it sounds like it’s going to be a long drawn-out process in which success or failure of the mandated goal depends entirely on a lot of tough die rolls.

During the remainder of a MLWM game, my definition of “success or failure” doesn’t depend on dice. For me, success comes when something interesting happens with a connection or with another minion; success or failure on a die roll just guides me towards the exact nature of the interesting something. Or lack thereof.

Cloudy day

One cannot help but feel somewhat apprehensive about reports of a mushroom cloud over North Korea. I would feel less apprehensive if it hadn’t occurred on the anniversary of North Korea’s foundation, which is apparently used as an opportunity to stage patriotic and inspiring events.

Can’t help it; I’m still not feeling all that much safer now that Saddam’s out of power. I know I’m meant to feel like Bush has done a wonderful thing, but the problem is… it only takes one bomb in the hands of a madman. Doesn’t matter if the bomb comes from a mythical weapons program in Iraq or a real weapons program in North Korea, except in the peskily practical sense that you can’t get a nuclear weapon out of a mythical weapons program.