Nica's Blog

Geraldine Ferraro has created unease by saying Barack Obama would not have gotten where he is today had he been white. The defense to her statement is that it is true. I say she is not so much correct, but she is not even wrong.

Let's say someone were to tell Dick Cheney that he wouldn't be where he is today if he were black. Someone might tell Bob Dylan that had he been a woman, he career wouldn't have been what it has been. I would daresay that there might be some truth to the statements, but it is an empty truth. We are all the product of many things. We are where we are because our family, friends, race, strengths, weeknesses. Saying "You are here because of 'X'" confuses the issue.

Nuff said.

This whole 'to do' about Spitzer and the 'high-class' prostitute's club does make me sad. Of course, I'm not annoyed by the sexual immorality of it. He is not my husband, and if he were, I might just take the attitude that as long as we have a nice cedar shake roof over our heads, and enought left over for the occasional nice frock, what the hell. Every man needs his hobbies, and such little mishaps are just the things we can laugh about years later. The fact that Elliot Spitzer was apparently a holier-than-thou-bitch between whoring sessions is a little off-putting, but I haven't really followed the details of his political career, so I will refrain from judgement.

In truth, I feel sorry for Spitzer. It's a sorrow I feel for 98% of the world's population. I think he was most surely ripped off by the Emperor's Club. This is not to slight Ms Dupre. She seems like a fine, and indeed "very pretty" girl. I wish her well. My ire is saved for the marketing department of the Emperor's Club. Shame on you. It's bad enough that everything from fruit to software to homes are pushed onto the public with the tricks of marketing, but to actually sell sex itself using cheesy 'high-class' packaging sickens me. You guys somehow convinced Spitzer that he was getting some sort of high-class sex that he wasn't getting at home. In fact I'm sure he was probably getting more-or-less the same vanilla sex for $1000.00/hr that he was getting at home with his wife or cleaning lady.

We are sold high-class cars, which are really only superifically better than economy cars. We are mortgaging ourselves to death for high-class homes with more space than we need. We fill the empty spaces in our high-class homes with sophisticated books which we don't read, but need to be stored in our tasteful bookcases which were chosen to go well with our subtely rich furniture. All this extra expense for good living doesn't go anything to make us any smarter or more comfortable.

I want people to return their Omega watches to the stores and explain that they have noticed that their fine watch isn't keeping time better than their little daughter's Beauty and the Beast watch. Do those high thread count sheets really feel better than the bargin sheets -- you paid extra for them! And explain to that nice young man that you purchased the high tech running shoes, but now you realize that you are lazy and will never use them. And please remember wine labels are not there to educate you, they are there to sell the wine. If you really must be a wine/beer/food conoissor, just memorize a few sentences like, "It's so hard to find properly aged goat cheese" or "German wines really are unappreciated." You can pretend to be smart, and your friends can pretend to care. And feel free to try the occasional high-class prostitute, but ask yourself mid-coitus, does this vagina feel any more 'high-class' than normal? Such thinking my save you thousands of dollars.

Saturday Night Live did a skit something like this many years ago, but these guys have updated the gags nicely. There is something just so fun and naughty about violating the sanctity of Abe Lincoln.

Most of the time when someone describes an art exhibit as "interesting", I usually assume they are using a euphemism for "not interesting". If something is truly interesting, the viewer will not generically describe the scene, but talk about very particular details of the art and the feelings they have about the art. But maybe I've been misinterpreting the i-word. I caught myself describing R. Crumb's exhibit at the Frye Art Museum. His work has a distinctive style, but his subject matter is surprisingly varied. Primarily a pen and ink artist, he also has a dramatic sculpture of "Devil Girl". The subject matter is sometimes utterly revolting. For the first time I have heard a museum staff member giving a tour using the expression "ass sucking". Crumb has himself many revolting characteristics, both physically and psychically, and he shows these flaws off on paper. He likes drawing himself as a child, or as a spindely child-like adult, always sweating, always with an erection bulging his pants. He seems to long for a meaty woman with huge jutting breats, minimal personality, and heavy legs, a mother surrogate with a lobotomy.

R.Crumb closely associated with the 60's counter-culture, did not like the music of the era. He has a love of Jazz, old Jazz on 78 rpm records. That is didn't fit into the alternative tastes of his coterie is, I believe, a good thing. An outcast should be a bit of an oddball even among outcasts.

I can't claim to actually enjoy reading his comics. He is a fine draftsman. He is still active making comics for the New Yorker. Much of his humor disgusts me, or simply goes over my head. But his work is interesting.

The housing market sucks. Lots of people are now regretting purchasing the home they have. Some of the blame has to be put on the homebuyers themselves, and many are feeling the punishment of their financial errors. Lenders have participated in many shaninigans as well. Some lenders are going to end up hurt by their over-zealous lending, others will make some profit from it. However the people who are mostly to blame will get no punishment, no public disgrace. I am referring to the people who have told every friend and family member not invested in real estate that they must purchase themselves a home because there is no better thing for them to do with their money. How many have been goaded into purchasing homes despite their shaky financial situation by relatives, coworkers, and friends talking endlessly about how real estate is a wonderous and magical money making machine.

Three years years ago I remember talking with an aquaintance, who I will call "L". Our conversation went something like this.

L: Do you own a home?
Me: No.
L: It's a wonderful investment.
Me: I only make $13/hr.
L: But you're wasting money on rent.
Me: I have no business taking out large loans.
L: But having real estate allows you to write off your loan when you pay your taxes.
Me: I can't afford a house.
L: You might be able to get something...maybe in Kent.
Me: So I can have a long commute, lousy neighborhood [no offense to you Kentians] and all the expenses of having a home.
L: But you're wasting money on rent. That's money down the drain.
Me: That's money that pays for shelter, maintenance, property taxes, water, sewer, garbage...
L: But you're not building equity.
Me: How do you know that? People can build equity lots of ways, not just with real estate.
L: Why are you so resistant to owning a home? You must have some sort of phobia about it.

Fortunately I didn't really like L very much and telling her that I was finding her tiresome was easy for me to do. Others have been less lucky and have been overwelmed by parents, coworkers, meddling in-laws, all urging investing in a home. Of couse none of these ignorant investment advisors feel that they are to blame now.

Remember, unless you really know what you are talking about, don't give advice. Keep your mouth shut or you might really hurt someone. Financial advice is not small-talk.

Today I went to The Golden Compass movie ready to be severely dissappointed. In fact, most of the movie I was only slightly dissappointed, and sometimes I was actually enjoying myself. I am not of the school of thought that movie adaptations should be as exact a recounting of the books content as possible. Altering the plot and details with care makes sense at times when moving the story from the written page to the big screen. The Golden Compass has kept the basic storyline intact, and some of the changes seems thought out well enough, but there are alterations of the storyline which seem capricous. In the beginning of the book it is the Dean of Jordan College who poisons Lord Asriel's wine, not Fra Pavel as shown in the movie. While this makes for simpler exposition, it comes at a huge cost to keeping up the intrigue of the story. The story is inherently confusing in the book, and part of the fun is working your way through the books trying to sort out the mysteries.

The movie ends about seven eights of the way through the book. While I can see this might make a better place for a conventional ending, I worry that audiences will have less reason to see the sequel -- if the sequel is ever made. The book ends with something of a cliffhanger. Actually, it ends with a cliff-fall, sadness, and a mystery. The movie ends with only a vague sense of something to be delivered.

It was an honest effort to make the book into a movie. The acting is good, the special effects are generally effective. The watering-down of the anti-religous message was not as muted as I had expected. The movie rushes through the storyline too quickly, but at least it doesn't drag. Some say the second and third books (The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass) in the series are not as good as The Golden Compass. I disagree. I really hope to see the sequels made. If they don't make the sequel, all those other world's mentioned in the movie's introduction will never get a chance to CGI'ed by eager computer artists.

Beowulf, that mead centric tale in old (really old) English has been transformed into a somewhat tacky 3-D film. There is a long history of tawdry films made in 3-D, some OK films, but I have never heard of actual "good" film in 3-D. Some of this is biase I'm sure. Sensationalist entertainment get written off very quickly by the academics who decide what films are worth remembering. Still, it seems 3-D has never joined the ranks of sound and color as completely viable and, in time, mandatory additions to the cinematic arts.

The real world has sound and color, so it makes sense that sound and color should be included in movies. But the sensation of 3-D, the effect of stereo vision is real too, so why does a 3-D movie feel contrived like carnival ride designed to tell a story? Adding a third dimension should make the movie seem more natural than a tradition film.

Of Course part of the problem is the content of the movies themselves. I was getting so many bodies and weapons throw my way during Beowulf that I was starting to get downright annoyed. But there is more to the problem. During one of these moments, with a spear point pointed straight at me, it realized that part of my annoyance was due to my headache. There is something headache inducing about faked 3-D with the current technology. I think my brain -- and I don't think I am unique in this matter -- doesn't like to have things hovering around inches from my face while the entire background is in focus.

A humble request to 3-D cinematographers: let things go out of focus. Do it for our brains.

Finally, there is the sad fact that 3-D films are really not 3-D. They are the pop-up-book version of 3-D. The audience can't lean over and see something hiding behind an object. If we want that we need to either see a play (unacceptable) or develop true holograms. Sadly holography has a long way to go. The holo-displays of science fiction will probably remain as science fiction for some time.

Despite all these problems, the attempt to revive 3-D cinematography is a good sign. Studios are desperate to sustain some reason for people to go out to theatres. Huge screens with high resolutions are becoming commonplace in living rooms. It is good that the studios don't take viewership for granted.

Labels: 3-D, cinema, entertainment