Lost On A Road That Needs Repaving...

The other night there was a special on HBO entitled, "Nine Innings from Ground Zero." It was an excellently compiled documentary dealing mostly with how baseball helped heal the nation, but more specifically, how it helped heal New York after 9/11. I highly recommend it, despite the fact that it was incredibly hard to watch, still only three years later.

Watching it, I wasn't thinking about the two America's we finally recognize light years after we should have. I wasn't thinking about my job security. And I wasn't thinking about the war raging in Irag right now.

I was thinking about those days. I was thinking about how time stopped being fluid then. How the idea of motion, or of forward momentum, seemed to have stopped when the Towers, the Pentagon, and an isolated field began to burn. I dare any of us to revisit that time in our mind and not get lost amid anger, fear, and sorrow. This is not something to be ashamed of, and yet, I think that feeling lies at the root of our problem.

The country experienced an event it could not understand, rationalize, or come to grips with. The most civilized, technological, and 'self-proclaimed' moral society was devastated and there were, are, and will never be an explanation that will suffice to any of us left behind.

Time never continued after that day. We never moved on. We've spent three years searching for answers that no Commission Report will ever hold. And the government, right or wrong, has gone on the defensive.

Some might argue that we've gone on the offensive, waging war in places that might stir up trouble in the future. Rooting our enemies out of holes and caves. I beg to differ.

I think, right or wrong, on some level we have lashed out at visible, weak opponents to try and re-create some sense of power and authority. We have antogonized at times when diplomacy was needed because we needed to reclaim our status as a World power. We stopped focusing on the constant upkeep of the foundation we had built and started paying attention only to protecting what was left.

America was not founded by people that were satisfied simply by protecting their land from attack. It was founded by people who looked at the land they had claimed as there own and said, "We need a school to educate our young, we need houses of worship where anyone can be free to pray to whomever they want, we need a place where we can sell our goods and trade our services to provide for our family, and once we have all of that." The funny thing is that once we had all that, consciously and unconsciously we also built up the strength to protect all that I mentioned. We had intelligent and educated political and business leaders raised in our own schools who valued the idea of a democracy built not only upon the differences between us, but the respect we all need to have for those differences.

This is how a society not only builds itself up, but maintains itself. It is how we once took the road to prosperity and why we are now lost on that same road.

On September 10th, we went to sleep with a world we all sensed we could control. On September 11th, we woke up to a world that we could make no sense of. I think that many people don't realize that yet. I think that much of our country believes that the only way to regain our lost innocence is by fighting, literally, to regain what once was.

In the end, I think you need to remain idealistic. I know how that sounds, and trust me, I see all the signs surrounding us that beg me not to be optimistic. Still, here we are, a group of a dozen or so, engaging in healthy, spirited, political and ideological debate. The post 9/11 world is recognized by different people and different communities in different ways. Nobody in Nebraska can know how I felt as I fled the city that day anymore than I can know how it feels to have farming subsidies cut because more money went to NYC's homeland security budget.

In the end, I find myself more idealistic than I think I've ever been. I know how that sounds, and trust me, I see all the signs surrounding me that beg me not to be so optimistic. Still, what other choice can be made? I could continue and draw the lines for you, but they are right in front of you everywhere you turn these days. Angry liberals. Angry conservatives. Angry moderates. All with only one thing in common. Anger.

I'm tired of sitting by and debating what's right and what's wrong with young, vibrant, educated people who have different beliefs, but share one common, and devastating, opinion. That there is no one left to believe in. It sickens me.

Still, maybe, just maybe if we continue the right debate (economic, health care, defense, education) and ignore the sensationalistic (Vietnam, Flip Floping) we can all find a common ground that gets us back on track. I guess what it boils down to is that I find hope simply in the fact that there are people out there right now, at this very moment, discussing this, not only with me, but with others. Don't stop doing that. You never know whose mind you mind change.

Spaced Out

Thanks to the wonderful people at TRIO, I've recently discovered the great Brit comedy 'Spaced.' Airing from 1999-2001, Spaced was created and starred Jessica Stevenson and Simon Pegg.

I was encouraged to check this out having enjoyed much of this cast in the great Brit horror/romantic comedy 'Shawn of the Dead.' Needless to say, I have not been disappointed.

Spaced is an incredibly innovative sitcom with the most unique style I've ever experienced in comedy. Shot with fast cuts, thousands of zooms, and featuring amazingly disorientating edits, the show creates an intoxicating visual that capitalizes on well-written and performed fantasy sequences and flashbacks.

What I love best, however, is that Spaced is the first show that I know of that takes place in my world, a place where people are not just disappointed, but depressed by Star Wars Episode 1, where Soul Calibur video games amp up the adreneline to a point where it invades your sub-conscious, and a place where your dreams remain just at arms length, despite your obvious talents. Spaced resides in a world where not everyone is beautiful, and yet, that is what makes them so. A place where your shitty job affords you a decent flat, but certainly not what you'd see in, say, Friends.

This show is not available on DVD in the US yet, but it's too good for that to remain the case. Check it out on TRIO if you can, I know you'll enjoy it.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind came out to rave reviews across the board a few months back. To this date, it is still the best reviewed movie of the year. It was smart, funny, and most of all challenging. And that is why it failed at the box office.

When this film came out a few weeks back, I took it upon myself to champion this film, sending out some of what's below to many of my friends to urge them to see the film. Many, if not most of them saw the film and to my delight I was thanked very often for turning them onto the film. One friend so enjoyed the film that he sent me a free movie poster from it that was handed out at his screening. So I didn't change the box office tally, but I know I did make a difference and helped share my thoughts on what I feel is perhaps the best film to be released in the past few years.

To me, a movie experience is a very personal journey. There are countless reasons why I may like a movie that you do not. Some people enjoy science fiction and fantasy, others straight forward drama. Some like westerns, some like post-modern westerns, and some like any western that doesn't include Kevin Costner. Some people enjoy suspending disbelief to imagine a world unlike their own, others believe that it is impossible to enter a video game and still, years later, refuse to watch Tron. My point is that each person's criticism of a movie is generally, but pointedly bias from the start.

With this in mind, when asked my thoughts of movies, I tend to begin with "In my opinion," so that people know that this was my genuine feeling, but not a feeling that I think should be imposed on another. Unless fully antagonized by a movie, and yes one can be, I also tend not to vilify a film or its maker. This behavior of course has been tested more and more recently, as I find that Hollywood has begun to rush films through production, and thus overlooked minor yet significant details such as, for instance, having a story.

This all brings me to the point of this entry, which is to do what I rarely do, which is go out of my way to recommend a movie. This movie is called Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and it stars, amongst others, Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kristen Dunst, and Elijah Wood. This movie, in my opinion, is the most creative and refreshing film that I have seen in quite a few years. Every little detail received attention, from the most subtle acting performances, to the minutia of the set design. While it retains the sensibility of the writer's work (Charlie Kaufman : Being John Malkovich, Adaptation), it shows startling sentiment. I personally liked both movies previously mentioned, but felt unattached, mainly because I could not relate to the characters. I can relate to every character in this film and that is why I found it so engrossing.

Why so engrossing? The story is a very complex and visually stunning look at a very simple idea, which is that the experience of a relationship often means a lot more that the result or its outcome. It's a universal idea, that anyone can find meaning in, whether its is through a broken heart, a failed friendship. or the loss of a loved one. I won't say anything more because the discovery of the movie was a great part of its charm to me. I would hope that some of you may feel the same way.

If you have seen previous films written by Charlie Kaufman, you know that their directors have chosen to mellow the imagry and let the story speak volumes. This is the first film of Kaufman's work that I feel takes the opposite approach, which is to make the vision of the film match the manicness of the script. Each approach is worth admiring, but seeing Michel Gondry's vision on the screen makes it obvious that he made the right choice in being different.

I definitely urge all that missed this film on the big screen to go out and buy or rent the DVD, which is due out this week. While I cannot promise that you will enjoy this film as much as I will, I can promise that no film that is on the horizon this year will challenge you or encourage more discussion than this film.

Revisiting the Quarter Life Crisis

I was looking though some old writings, thinking back a few years to when I turned 25, and remembering when I first wrote about this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had entitled my ‘Quarter-Life Crisis.’

Much time has passed since then, so much so that John Mayer has actually written a song that includes those words (Why Georgia?).

This of course brings about the inevitable question. What is more unremarkable?

a)That John Mayer used a phrase I thought I creatively coined years prior.

b)John Mayer’s music.

Anyway, the last time I though about this, I remember discussing the passage of time through the portal known as the “Revenge of the Nerds.” Known mostly to me as the first film that I watched with my sisters present that had nudity in it, it had since become known to me as the film that introduced many to Anthony Edwards and Timothy Busfield. Watching those actors on ER and The West Wing was painful, as I watched two of my favorite nerds, grown up and acting in responsible roles as doctors and journalists.

It made me feel incredibly old at the time. I’ve since realized that this was a necessary evil. I needed to be made aware that time would not wait for me. In addition, network television needed to make up for the fact that Ted McGinley was no longer on Married With Children and the guy who played Booger was no longer on Moonlighting. There are checks and balances people. Remember that.

Now I’m approaching 29 and I find out that they are remaking “The Revenge of the Nerds” with some guy from the O.C. This becomes remarkable to me for several reasons.

a)Enough time has passed to remake a movie from my childhood. What’s next a remake of Police Academy? Please don’t answer that.

b)In the time since the original film, we’ve gone from 90210 to O.C. I mention this because god forbid someone got this idea sooner we might have actually seen Ian Ziering in the remake.

c)This movie is being made by McG, with a guy from the O.C, which surprisingly is not on the WB. I say this only to be clever, which is something that often escapes me, as I am actually not talented enough to be known by my initials alone.

Funny thing is that as my wife and some friends of mine discuss the idea of feeling older, I actually feel younger. I think I learned a lesson about youth being all in your mind from an episode of Dawson’s Creek or something. Either that or from Oprah. So I welcome the production of this movie. For now. I say that, as I am well aware that this movie is slated to appear somewhere around my 30th birthday, at which time I will no doubt write about the thirtysomething phase of my life that I will inevitably conjure up. Warning: This will, no doubt, include another clever Revenge of the Nerds reference (see: Busfield, Timothy).

Remembrance

Three years have passed and I'm no more sure of my thoughts and feelings from that day as I was moments afterward. I'm not sure what to think, let alone write, other than I feel thankful for being alive. And sad. And guilty.

You may think you have seen enough pictures from September 11th. You may think that the memories belong in the past. You may think that while the day may never be forgotten, the pain can be left behind. You may believe that ignorance is bliss. I don't.

Thinking back, I exited the subway and stepped onto Sixth Avenue at precisely the moment the 1st plane hit. I rushed to my office, knowing many people worry about me, not realizing how large a city NY is. I was on the phone with my girlfriend Kate when the 2nd plane hit. Until that moment, I honestly believed that the first sight was just a horrendous accident. Years later, I now remember that single moment as the last naive one I'll carry.

My sister called my office in tears, having worked in building 2 for the Port Authority for almost a year. Many members of her company, Accenture still did. And many of her friends and co-workers never made it home that day. Or anyday since. Knowing that there was no way out of the city, but that she was in a safer area uptown, and that she was scared, I decided to make my way up to her.

60 NYC blocks. I remember thinking that this could perhaps be the scariest thing I will ever experience. If I'm lucky, I'll never know anymore terror than that. I know I've yet to experience anything close since.

You watch films and you think to yourself that looks realistic or that would never happen. But rarely do you have a real life basis for comparison. Watch the news, any night, with the sight of people running from a collapsing building, and try not to compare it to a movie. Did I see that in Deep Impact or Armageddon? Godzilla? Independence Day?

The same goes for over a million visuals that will forever burn into my memory. Crowded buses teetering on every corner or worse yet, not stopping and being chased down. People actually grabbing and rocking buses to make them stop.

A mass exodus went uptown with me. City streets filled with people trying to find whatever they needed...people, places, hope...I don't know. Running, walking, rollerblading... If people smiled, you might have mistaken it for a parade. No one smiled, few even looked up. Those that did knew what they were looking for, or who for that matter.

I worked near that NYC School for the Blind. Try to imagine making your way through this without sight. When you can't even hear the signal lights over the sound of a crowd. I doubt many could take it in and realize that...

On any other day, I see this and think to myself, I can help this one man and continue on with my life. I can give and go. I'd like to think that many people think this. But imagine seeing this on the other side of the street, knowing you'd have to pass through a sea of hundreds of frantic people just to make it. There was an opeing for a moment and I never took it. Perhaps someone went to help the isolated soul that I left behind. I pray that is true. Unfortunately, all I am left with are my prayers, as I did nothing that day for that man. A man I never met and a man I will never forget.

You see once he was passed me, like once we all passed something, it was gone. You did not turn around that day. No body turned around. Perhaps you went and returned, but you never looked back. What you saw on TV is what we saw when we turned.

And you know what the worst thing was, what really scared those who lived and breathed this city for years...It wasn't what you saw. It was what you didn't see. What you knew should be there. The sight of what is, what was, and what should not be possible.

But something else made you look only forward. Smoke and gas. You see what they rarely mentioned on the news and what I think most NYkers realized is this. Terrorism knows no boundaries and toxins, gases, and germ warefare is out there. Who was to say there was none on board. And this was before the anthrax scare, too. I can only image if a more informed and paranoid crowd was forced to greet 9/11. Panic? Perhaps, but the once mere possibility was out there and it passed along the streets, a place where there was no escape from the idea. From the fear.

Fear for my life is something that I can honestly say I know. Being able to recognize it doesn't make it any easier to accept, only easier to displace. I seem to be very good at this. Unfortunately it allows shock to enter very quickly later on.

And you know the frightening thing is that as a so-called media friendly person, I knew what to expect. I knew that thousands would stand in Times Square and watch the video screen or at the FOX News studios to see the news ticker. There would be people watching TV through Radio Shack or WIZ displays. The cars rushing uptown, debris still flying from the windshield. The gridlock traffic. The honking. The sirens.

The sirens never stopped. Sometimes I think they still haven't. When they will I don't know. A siren ceases to exist in purpose at this point. It is meant to startle, to break up, and to warn. During thaose days there were no sirens. There was only noise...9/11 remains a defiant memory, refusing to diminish, refusing to fade away. I somehow doubt that will ever change.

Nothing makes sense and everything conflicts itself. I try to forget, but know that I should force myself to remember. I try to move on, but don't know where to go. I think about that day as if years have passed, when it was only Tuesday. But now years have passed and it's still just Tuesday. It's a pleasant autumn day and the cool breeze breaks up a warm sunny day, tossing a few strands of hair into my eyes. I'm squinting as I emerge from the subway. The day is young and I've just awoken.

I'm now awake. Sleep, restful and at peace, alluding me since.

Always No Bunny At All

Over the weekend I was watching news coverage of the attack in Russia and of Clinton's bypass surgery.  I switched from CNN, to MSNBC, to Euronews, to the BBC, and finally Fox News.  Absolutely amazing.  It was as if I was watching different events all together.  As a communication major this was not the surprising part.  The surprising part came from just how extremely prejudiced some accounts were.  I'm talking not passible for impariality by any stretch of the imagination.  

Do you know who the talking head to discuss the ins and outs of Clinton's bypass procedure on Fox was?  A woman who was the Head of PSYCHIATRY for Mount Sinai in NY.  No, not a cardiologist, a psychiatrist.  Was she talking about treatment or how this may affect Clinton?  No, she was talking about how the doctors would treat the surgery and how, regadless of genetics, his overindulgence in fast food no doubt contributed to this.  Are you kidding me?! She's who they choose?

Listen, I appreciate the business end of the 24/7 news word that we live in, but when you have a story that deals with the human heart bring in a cardiologist to talk about it. I mean, that's just blatant common sense, right?

The whole thing reminded me of a Friends episode where they throw a Halloween party. Monica is supposed to pick up a Peter Rabbit costume for Chandler, but the best she can get it an embarassingly large pink bunny suit that makes him look ridiculous. When he quesions her about why she chose it, she says I had a choice, pink bunny or no bunny at all. And Chandler emphatically states, "NO BUNNY AT ALL! ALWAYS NO BUNNY AT ALL!"

In the end that's what it boils down to. Fox chose the pink bunny suit when common sense would have dictated there be no bunny at all.

Blankets

The graphic novel is slowly gaining acceptance as literature. Often seen as one of two works, either the extended versions of currents superheroes (Superman, Batman, etc) or the works of such dark and ironic and artists like Daniel Clowes or Harvey Pekar, I am excited to see that other forms of expression are slowly creeping into the genre. It may have taken too long, but I am glad to see that it’s time will soon arrive, and I thank Craig Thompson for his work on “Blankets,” which will surely expedite this movement.

“Blankets” is the type of work that cannot be categorized. Without its pictures it would make an excellent novel, filled with mesmerizing themes of deep friendship, first loves, and heartbreaking separation. Without its words, the pictures could still tell the same story through exceptional black and white drawings that boldly and wonderfully provide page upon page of ingenious and poignant imagery. Combined, Thompson creates a complete and sensitive work that recreates the confusing, emotion filled, and turbulent ride we take through puberty, will an emphasis on his own troubles dealing with his family’s rigid fundamentalist Christian upbringing.



Despite its acclaim, I brought hesitation to “Blankets” due to what I feared would be an inability to relate to its’ partial Christian themes. My fears quickly subsided, as the story, though strong in religious principles, was decidedly not preachy. Regardless of your upbringing, Thompson’s story relates to everyone’s fear of maturation, the social anxiety of high school, and the spiritual awakening that arrives with the kindling of a first love.

What brings me back to this story again and again is something that could just as easily put others off. In the age of cynicism that we live in, “Blankets” is a sincere effort at understanding the complexities of growing up without resorting to all to common 21st century teenage angst formula. Could Thompson’s work be construed as naïve? Certainly. At the same time, I should hope that we as a generation have not become so jaded as to bury any feelings of childlike self-discovery that we may have experienced, be they painful or not, from our formative years.

Thompson’s “Blankets” must be experienced. I can assure you that a trip through its pages will bring you back to a time and place in your life that you have probably long since forgotten, and one that you probably never realized how much you missed.

The Future Dictionary of America

The Future Dictionary of America is a guide to the American language, as it exists sometime in the future, when all or most of our country's problems are solved and the present administration is a distant memory. The book includes contributions from almost 200 writers and artists, including Kurt Vonnegut, Art Spiegelman, Stephen King, T.C. Boyle, ZZ Packer, Michael Chabon, Jeffrey Eugenides, Jonathan Safran Foer, Joyce Carol Oates, Jim Shepard, Rick Moody, Sarah Vowell, Richard Powers, Chris Ware, Jonathan Ames, Gabe Hudson, Julie Orringer, and many, many more. The book also comes with a CD, compiled by Barsuk Records, featuring new songs and rarities from R.E.M., Sleater-Kinney, Elliott Smith, Tom Waits, David Byrne, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, They Might Be Giants, Death Cab for Cutie, and many others.

I bought this book after reading that all proceeds from the sales of this dictionary go directly to groups devoted to expressing their outrage over the Bush administration's assault on free speech, overtime, drinking water, truth, the rule of law, humility, the separation of church and state, a woman's right to choose, clean air, and every other good idea this country has ever had. These groups include the Sierra Club, America's oldest and largest grass-roots environmental organization; Common Assets, a new organization working to protect the commons; and many other specific projects relating to the 2004 election–mobilizing and educating voters, getting people to the polls, door-to-door organizing, and other efforts.

With each quarter of sales, the money earned will be distributed, via grants, to organizations that embody the spirit of what is mentioned above. To get a better idea of what to expect, see below for a favorite new definition of mine.

wankerzone [wan'-kur-zohn] n. a place where hardcore liberals and conservatives go to hit each other with pillows. These zones, which are padded and full of fun obstacles, were constructed so that a person who feels very strongly about some issue may seek out a counterpart who disagrees just as strongly and then they can swat each other with heavy pillows. The zones became taxpayer-funded, because it turned out everyone benefited one way or another, either through the entertaining diversion of watching folks engage in spirited pillow fights or through the eventual reduction in overbearing attempts to legislate other people's behavior. After a good session in the wankerzone, the two dueling parties are encouraged to sit down together and have a nice cool smoothie.
—ARTHUR BRADFORD

If you are interested in purchasing this book, click here.

The Infamous Ex

We all have them, right? Doesn't matter if we've moved on. Doesn't matter if we are better off. So long as the person who once ripped out our heart and left us for dead exists out there, there always remains the possibility that they will re-emerge to finish the job.

I have one of these infamous ex's.  

She is now an infamous acting ex.  She is also an infamous ex who has a knack for disturbing the zen-like peace that I tend to achieve from time to time.  This time she does this by calling me out of the blue and telling me that she wanted to say hello since we haven't spoken in so long.

Had the conversation remained as innocent as that I would have mightily enjoyed it. However the truth was that she was calling from her director's office, and oh yeah, did I know that she's starring in a show with Benjamin Bratt, James Ghandolfini, and Susan Sarandon?

So I'm on the phone with my infamous acting ex who disturbs the zen-like peace that I have achieved by calling me out of the blue and telling me that she wanted to say hello since we haven't spoken in so long, and oh by the way she's calling from her female director's office, but the director is talking to Benjamin Bratt right now, which leads me to think back to my track record with my ex, which means that she's either sleeping with her director or Benjamin Bratt.  

She invites me to the show, which sounds fantastic, what with the whole asking my wife if she thinks its a good idea for us to spend $200 to go to a show with me where my ex-girlfriend (the one who completely screwed me up) shares the stage with Benjamin Bratt.

And there before me lies the line between stupidity and masochism that I refuse to cross.