tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29831706509179796362024-03-05T16:04:57.853-05:00The Sound A Doggy Makes<p align="right">Where solipsistic pessimism isn't just a favorite pastime, it's a way of life.
<br>We also would have accepted "Bow-wow," or "Ruff."</p>Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.comBlogger1599125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-88208344813339771692015-01-09T14:01:00.000-05:002015-01-09T14:01:03.033-05:00Doctor Who - When you fart in the shower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuBbeKRSRn1MG19R_hyHB7sx7hgbvNETV-nm5qaVfbKDm_1hPeKXpT-pB1ki0Yf7TD-cStE0eZl5BzpIZAsPsuJxQi0s_us7Pu2YtYd02WSTnwM9wdit1oSlaeo-dpvsOOvGV8o2gwew/s1600/Doctor-Who-Shower-Fart.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuBbeKRSRn1MG19R_hyHB7sx7hgbvNETV-nm5qaVfbKDm_1hPeKXpT-pB1ki0Yf7TD-cStE0eZl5BzpIZAsPsuJxQi0s_us7Pu2YtYd02WSTnwM9wdit1oSlaeo-dpvsOOvGV8o2gwew/s1600/Doctor-Who-Shower-Fart.gif" /></a></div>
<br />Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-39498844678554828492014-11-14T14:50:00.000-05:002014-11-14T14:50:30.403-05:00Girlpants and Gasoline now available in print!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mTvZOF0XiBj_igaVeKfzyrHHtY4BUy8haq_LlTQTa2HviDT4a-IXUDsAD8EU9DTqM0_xhhLItTe2RihktQlaLRj-MEdKeyoO95EDi_wsFOC-H-EXhFPf3uoF_jIKki9nJSOA2Ct1qgs/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-11-14+at+2.44.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mTvZOF0XiBj_igaVeKfzyrHHtY4BUy8haq_LlTQTa2HviDT4a-IXUDsAD8EU9DTqM0_xhhLItTe2RihktQlaLRj-MEdKeyoO95EDi_wsFOC-H-EXhFPf3uoF_jIKki9nJSOA2Ct1qgs/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-11-14+at+2.44.43+PM.png" /></a></div>
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<br />
<a href="https://www.createspace.com/5058711?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026"><i>Girlpants and Gasoline</i> is now available in print!</a><br />
<br />
<br />
That's my personal shop page which allows you to order a copy all for yourself! An Amazon page should be automatically listed in a few days for those of you who get free Prime shipping (I think it'll work but we'll see), just know that Amazon takes twice as much of your money if you order through their page as opposed to mine. (But hey, Prime shipping is a godsend).<br />
<br />
That said, I will be ordering copies myself if you wish to buy a signed copy!<br />
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So if you want a copy in person or to give me cash directly (best royalties for me!) I'll have some available myself shortly, and will be stocking some in my local Barnes & Noble for the holiday season.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-84700747851148026332014-09-20T23:50:00.002-04:002014-09-20T23:56:14.049-04:00'Girlpants and Gasoline' Reviewed by Phi Beta Kappa!Phi Beta Kappa's newsletter The Key Reporter <a href="http://www.keyreporter.org/BookReviews/LifeOfTheMind/Details/1149.html">reviewed my book <i>Girlpants and Gasoline</i></a>!<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Zucker’s observations hit the mark precisely.…<i>Girlpants and Gasoline</i> sheds light on our collective (self-)consciousness." </blockquote>
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Makes me think all those years of collegiate honors are finally paying off. I'm getting all teary.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-58223939487108445242014-09-18T11:29:00.000-04:002014-09-18T11:29:01.211-04:00U2 LITERALLY Cannot Give Away Their New Album<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSH06l5LovSXqecsetGmLpIHwV6Nqzxiz1P8nDnlBAsBNpuvl8oo4i0kPYaE-SimS8_Qct3jUjIHt9RojJw5pJr1o0nlrGTlj41yZiJ6uBbgtWIXwD4HbI9uATbzz9v1zybqgVIihc6o/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-09-18+at+11.25.42+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSH06l5LovSXqecsetGmLpIHwV6Nqzxiz1P8nDnlBAsBNpuvl8oo4i0kPYaE-SimS8_Qct3jUjIHt9RojJw5pJr1o0nlrGTlj41yZiJ6uBbgtWIXwD4HbI9uATbzz9v1zybqgVIihc6o/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-09-18+at+11.25.42+AM.png" /></a></div>
<br />
Let's just discuss this for one minute and then we can let it fade away as we live our actual lives.<br />
<br />
Apple, with the introduction of iOS 8 and the iPhones 6 and 6 Plus revealed that all iTunes users would be treated to a free digital album download of U2's newest release "Songs of Innocence."<br />
<br />
Except instead of a download available, the way iTunes functions meant the album magically appeared in every user's library with the little cloud icon meaning "download me." Being someone who works in tech support, I can imagine many older users becoming concerned that they unwittingly <i>paid</i> for the album. A portion of these users, however, are actually young enough to still like U2, so the concern might be more pleasant surprise than financial confusion.<br />
<br />
The bad press here is that users found this intrusive. Many people forget that, as far as digital media sales are concerned, most state and federal laws view your "purchases" of digital content as a license to rent for the duration of your life. With the recent exception of Delaware and campaigns by Bruce Willis of all people, distributors are within their rights to close your accounts and delete your content when you croak. Other side of the coin: this means Apple technically has the ability to <b><i>add</i></b> content to your library at will, regardless of payment. That should make people happy, right?<br />
<br />
Well, no, because you just did a 'nice' thing that reminded people that<br />
<ol>
<li>they don't have agency over their own (digital) lives in this sugared corporate delusion they've swallowed, and </li>
<li>nothing free is ever particularly <i>good</i>.</li>
</ol>
That's really the crux of this argument. Id you gave people a free something they <i>liked</i>, even somewhat intrusively, the thought was still nice. Barnes & Noble recently released a new Nook cobranded with Samsung and offers "$200 of free content" with each device. Yeah, it's a few interchanging books and a choice of any record-club-style magazine subscriptions, but the most engaging content is curated television programs: currently <i>Veep</i>, <i>Orphan Black</i>, and <i>Hannibal</i> first episodes. <i>Orphan Black</i> is a major thing right now. People love it. They are glad to have it, even if they wouldn't have bought it or resent the lack of choice. Some people will delete it, sure, but most people just see it as a free sample for signing up rather than an intrusion of their personal, private possessions.<br />
<br />
Apple didn't do that.<br />
<br />
Apple, regardless of taste or willingness, gave every user a free copy of something that hadn't existed before that day, and no one had seen coming. People were <i>shocked</i> that Beyoncé could record and entire album without news of it leaking to the media.<br />
<br />
No one is surprised that U2 could record and entire album without anyone caring.<br />
<br />
So yes, people were annoyed. And yes, many people dislike U2, or at least they don't care enough to want their album. Is that really deserving of the negative media attention, though? Apple had to go out of their way to release <i>an opt-out website </i>just for people who found highlighting and deleting the album from their libraries too difficult.<br />
<br />
Let me repeat that: Apple paid for hosting a website <i>expressly</i> for signing into your iTunes account to click a button to permanently delete "Songs of Innocence" from your iTunes, when it is possible to simply click on the tracks and hit the "delete" key. Same effect. Exponentially less time. Apple still gave an option for people who felt that that process didn't adequately describe their <i>distaste</i> for the cancerous, nigh contagious tracks. Heaven forbid they contaminate their cursors by clicking on the vile things.<br />
<br />
I remember reading an article when iOS 6 came out with the much-hated Maps app that suggested a failure on Apples part spurred Google to create a <i>free </i>stand-alone Google Maps app for iOS that was even <i>better</i> than its Android counterpart as a sort of "screw you" to Apple, who had innitially demanded the built-in Maps app, originally powered by Google, be given the same updates as Android without charging a heavy premium. Apple took the hit in the press, but got exactly what it wanted. One could be forgiven for imagining a Cupertino <i>West Wing</i>-like backroom deal between Tim Cook and some P.R. engineers about purposefully looking a fool if it got their pet project funded.<br />
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This was not one of those moments.<br />
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Let's for a moment ignore the "3 million downloads" in however many days Apple says U2 received. We have to. Digital download sales for this album will never be accurate. Between automatic downloads of purchased content and confused users clicking, hell even people in-the-know listening once before they delete it, every copy that wasn't paid for is worthless to sales reporting. It's a media hype. U2 gave away an album for free. That's what happened. And still nobody wants to own it.<br />
<br />
I honestly cannot think of a relevant sentence to form about U2 that isn't directly tied to a joke from <i>South Park</i>, "I Love You, Man," or Bo Burnham stand-up. Congratulations on becoming both musically <i>and</i> culturally irrelevant, and pissing off the general public in the process.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-91520691719257143042014-05-18T22:39:00.000-04:002014-05-18T22:39:24.854-04:00How Big is the 'Game of Thrones' World?Okay, to begin, let's get this out of the way: George Martin is a little bit of a coy dick about the planetary mechanics of his fictional universe. Which is actually fair, considering the more information he gives us, the less magic exists in his world.<br />
<br />
I don't mean that in a literary way, I mean if we get more than even a reasonable sense of scale, we can actually determine to size of The World, and from that extrapolate its approximate mass and gravity (how dragons can sustain flight, maximum likely biped height, the strength of an executioner's swinging arm, the physical effects of non-congenital dwarfism, etc). Worse, with a little heliocentric tinkering, we could determine the planet's probable distance from a yellow sun to be in the 'Goldilocks Zone' of habitability and possible eccentricity of orbit and tilt, thus giving us a predictable seasonal cycle, what is essentially the giant looming doom on the horizon of the whole series.<br />
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Thus, it's pretty reasonable that Mr. Martin doesn't want us science-y types mucking around in his playpen.<br />
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That said, LET'S MUCK THE FUCK AROUND IN THIS DUDE'S PLAYPEN!<br />
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSF-bOUoziCeMCtCewTmDcLz9mNkyxafetkzMvBDfxavwN6_YvEUwbdROHQqLPK3SV5NxQZqFg_mNzZdevKnUfme2qtKrvJT-jTSuqKSIiQ86ctyWud4e0_wNnsOhmQ8RCKy7zbQoWRxI/s1600/GoT+Map+with+scale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSF-bOUoziCeMCtCewTmDcLz9mNkyxafetkzMvBDfxavwN6_YvEUwbdROHQqLPK3SV5NxQZqFg_mNzZdevKnUfme2qtKrvJT-jTSuqKSIiQ86ctyWud4e0_wNnsOhmQ8RCKy7zbQoWRxI/s1600/GoT+Map+with+scale.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Click for embiggening.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here's a map I just pieced together from the most recent official map release (free posters at Barnes and Noble locations) and a previous map derived from the <i>Lands of Ice and Fire</i> book that included distance scale. It is the most detailed map to date, though clearly cuts out large chunks of land in the Southern and South-Eastern regions. Additionally, there are tall tales of lands of eternal summer and without death in the distant West. Based on the similarity to Tolkein's work, I'm going to assume this land is full of elves and demigods. Since most people discount these stories, we should probably assume that they are 100% a real place. Martin has also said, at various times, that this planet <i>is</i> round (spherical is the implication), and about the same size as Earth or possibly a little bigger. Sothoryos, the lush continent at bottom center is described as being roughly akin to Africa in that it is jungle and historically unexplored by the people of the North. Ulthos, to the far South-East, is almost completely unknown except it is also covered in dense jungle.<br />
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Now what then can we glean from this image?<br />
<br />
Well firstly, as a sense of scale, the image at hand, based on the scale from its predecessor, is just shy of being 8,700 miles across. This is fairly important.<br />
<br />
The Earth's equator is just shy of 25,000 mi in circumference. We're tempted by the layout of the map to assume the centerline runs through The World's equator, but historically this wasn't the case on Earth until the mid 16th century. More often, Jerusalem or another politically important center was used as the center of a map, often eclipsing any rational scale or sense of distances.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AN5cMpqSh_NYUhkhANbdJRa6DU9ZYATbWXZXhC_-j2dEsFApr6weblkq8ghmGx2QlORu3o017PDnJCgwbwCiu857sV4zYB5JQx4Es7sP_RHH2TJzkdGe6-ib7kTUrgYDjWms5-pPJTg/s1600/threepart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AN5cMpqSh_NYUhkhANbdJRa6DU9ZYATbWXZXhC_-j2dEsFApr6weblkq8ghmGx2QlORu3o017PDnJCgwbwCiu857sV4zYB5JQx4Es7sP_RHH2TJzkdGe6-ib7kTUrgYDjWms5-pPJTg/s1600/threepart.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Heinrich Bünting's map of the world, 1581.<br />He also drew Europe as a person whose head pointed West. Because yep.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Moreover, if we consider the climateology described by Martin and the map, only Northern Westeros seems to maintain an arctic climate. (In fact this is a major part of the nation's history and folklore, concerning the White Walkers and whatever else lives beyond The Wall in the Lands of Always Winter.) Importantly, at the bottom of our map we find only <i>tropical </i>climes. Not only is the map missing a large portion of The World latitudinally, it's missing<i><b> ITS ENTIRE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE</b></i><i></i>.<br />
<br />
I'll say that again. We currently have a map of verifiably less than half the planet. That is a problem.<br />
<br />
<br />
But!<br />
<br />
"But!" I say! We can <i>fix</i> this! for we now know some important facts:<br />
<ol>
<li>The distances involved are fairly accurate, as they pertain to a well-traveled set of lands in the center of the map.</li>
<li>These lands are, <i>very</i> approximately, halfway between the tropical regions and the arctic ones.</li>
<li>The circumference of a sphere at any latitude is its equatorial circumference times the cosine of the latitude. (Apparently.)</li>
</ol>
Earth, for example, is just about 24,900 miles at the equator. Let's call it an even 24k to compensate for oblation of the sphere and just to make our lives a little easier. The Earth's circumference at the 42nd parallel, which New York resides along, would be:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
cos(42) • 24000 = roughly 17,800 miles. </blockquote>
So The World of Ice and Fire, then, at approximately the same latitude it would seem, would be:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
cos(42) • X = 8,700</blockquote>
Solving for X would give us a planet only 11,700 miles in circumference. That would make it about 15% smaller than Mars, which already has gravity approximately 1/3 Earth norm. If this were the case, not only could dragons easily fly through even a thin atmosphere, but White Walkers could grow to enormous heights. Also, rain, snow, and the swinging of an axe towards the neck of anyone House Stark wouldn't really function as they do.<br />
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<br />
Conclusion: Not only are we missing the <b>ENTIRE BOTTOM HALF OF THE GLOBE</b>, we are <b>ALSO MISSING A QUARTER MORE UP TOP.</b><br />
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<br />
Now, let me run into rampant speculation, and say that what follows are numbers I am only guessing at, grossly approximated for a perfect, spherical planet, and I actually have no idea if the math I'm doing is even remotely close enough to provide us any meaningful data about this fake World, but I have an idea and I haven't yet seen the Internet regurgitate anything remotely similar, so I'm calling this as my show from here on out.<br />
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If we <i>do</i> accept this as a spherical planet, although none really are, we could theoretically <i>switch</i> our orientation and calculate the circumference of The World at a <i>longitudinal</i> point!<br />
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The <b><i>HEIGHT</i></b> of our given map is approximately 5,700 miles. Let's round up to an even 6,000 to bring our map 'down' to the probable equator, and then double that for the Southern hemisphere. That gives us a <b>vertical</b> circumference at any Meridian of approximately 12,000 miles, or roughly the same as Earth! (Obviously the extent of the tropical zone is approximated, as is the exact distance from the Lands of Always Winter to The World's North Pole.)<br />
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So with these calculations, and matching what information George Martin has released to the public on the topic, we can see that The World really is about the same size as the Earth, possibly a little smaller or larger depending on how much we fudge the exact measurements and what is essentially Medieval cartography.<br />
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And that means The World really looks like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E8cWKCJD76wnrfANkejjO-Tzsx_KmqMQhwAq-jnnPI6ZonGw3t15Hd6pB2ILclQf33GRq7_5iQ-KcgNFp3Nqb2Pgam0yJJqQeIH14fWiPUAcbBnWwUN6gzzc7PrU5y9_J6RX4hb96cQ/s1600/GoT+accurate+World+Map+with+scale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E8cWKCJD76wnrfANkejjO-Tzsx_KmqMQhwAq-jnnPI6ZonGw3t15Hd6pB2ILclQf33GRq7_5iQ-KcgNFp3Nqb2Pgam0yJJqQeIH14fWiPUAcbBnWwUN6gzzc7PrU5y9_J6RX4hb96cQ/s1600/GoT+accurate+World+Map+with+scale.jpg" height="276" width="400" /></a></div>
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Which is stupid. It should be black and cloudy, like in Warcraft I & II for Windows 95 and 98.<br />
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Here's what that looks like, way cooler:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKLFESqLfNJbupuD1KhO5-o6DNz3dpodwHzhLXBVgJHloVHGW_GA8Ju4f_jSdPe8ple6DO0aFVyFTzjR4Zc7AW6obsCIxeDitKkv4yFm-XNKybtLQu5Uxs1GRc6dlDUxZXvWcMfbh_s4/s1600/GoT+Map+with+scale+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKLFESqLfNJbupuD1KhO5-o6DNz3dpodwHzhLXBVgJHloVHGW_GA8Ju4f_jSdPe8ple6DO0aFVyFTzjR4Zc7AW6obsCIxeDitKkv4yFm-XNKybtLQu5Uxs1GRc6dlDUxZXvWcMfbh_s4/s1600/GoT+Map+with+scale+copy.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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We've got a lot of map to fill in. For my money, I'm putting an ancient Middle Earth on the other side of the globe, possibly upside-down <i>à la</i> Douglas Adams' "Mostly Harmless" since it is said the Sun first rose in the West before Varda decided it should rise opposite, and let's go with Conan's Hyborian Age on the other side of the Northern hemisphere, so that their "snow apes," driven from their homelands to the far North of the remnants of the continent of Thuria by the now Neolithic humans who they then came to loathe, can be related to White Walkers.<br />
<br />
Boom. I just saved space by putting 3 fantasy novels and a Douglas Adams sequel on a single planet.<br />
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"Now bring me that horizon." (Five.)Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-27580032072588823882014-04-21T14:14:00.000-04:002014-04-21T14:14:04.997-04:00"Event Television" is the Death Knell of Network TV<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNighVtuFLoq8xSPCQYgEcDkqSy0ZXLDv2gsIBni1YYHKb4cCR9nLwNa6OzQZP-i9HgjeeQgKivEqMLy4feQ-Mu0AyjF1YOK0CzSDyvP8CQcZXkHciJLgok4JX4eIqN-0kQS_5qIjhQms/s1600/game-of-thrones-season-4-final-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNighVtuFLoq8xSPCQYgEcDkqSy0ZXLDv2gsIBni1YYHKb4cCR9nLwNa6OzQZP-i9HgjeeQgKivEqMLy4feQ-Mu0AyjF1YOK0CzSDyvP8CQcZXkHciJLgok4JX4eIqN-0kQS_5qIjhQms/s1600/game-of-thrones-season-4-final-poster.jpg" height="640" width="432" /></a></div>
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<br />
Certain shows have been good for television as a medium in the last few years. Complex storytelling, compelling antiheroes, and gray morality have turned water cooler talk away from <i>Desperate Housewives</i> to "I can't believe Walt fucking <i>[SPOILERED] [CHARACTER]</i>." (Alright, that's essentially the same conversation when you remove the verbs, but suffice it to say that a high-maintenance cosmetic surgery addict is fairly distinct from a meth-cooking recovering cancer patient with a Napoleon complex.)<br />
<br />
"Event Television" is being touted a lot right now. It's not a new idea, but it's the first time an old format has spurred so many producers to attempt to make money by creating grand, intricate shows that–frankly–cost a hell of a lot of money to produce.<br />
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Let us be clear: it is wonderful that networks are shilling out crazy amounts of cash to put together smart scripts, talented actors, and vision-filled producers and directors, and effectively giving them creative license to do what they think works best for the show. All of those things foster creativity and a generally better story. This is good.<br />
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Let us also be clear: this is a complete fad.<br />
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Networks are always looking for their keystone programming, they're just more willing to take risks with their investments now that other networks have proven the format. That format? Early film reel serials. Self-contained stories with a designed beginning, middle, and end, fluffed up in the middle of each installment with some odd complication that extends the plot out and requires a steady viewing of the complete material for total understanding, but could otherwise be shown to a complete stranger at any point and give a reasonable account of the series' tone at large, preferably drawing them in to start from the beginning. Really, there's two target demographics working together who would normally compete here: Networks are now considering Netflix when they make a show.<br />
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Admittedly, that's something a a gross generalization. A more nuanced explanation might be that Networks have discovered a way to draw readers into live-airing programming (more developed storytelling) while simultaneously drawing back former viewers who have "cut the chord" with cable in favor of online streaming services for only a select few shows (format your show in easy-to-binge plot chunks for the Netflix addicts). Ideally, they seek to draw the latter group back into the former, and return a few precious commercial ad dollars.<br />
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The plan is a good one. Certainly serial dramas have not done well on television previously, at least on the whole. Sit-Coms and episodic dramas do better in syndication, as a single episode will be unlikely to contain much character or plot development for the overall series. Even fans of cult classic shows like <i>Twin Peaks</i> or <i>The X-Files</i> which skewed early towards long-form plots are hard-pressed to argue that the one-off episodes didn't tend toward being far better than later "wrap-it-all-up" episodes.<br />
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Much of this can be blamed on a lack of funding, or Network meddling ruining a great, masterfully arranged concept (<i>Firefly</i> being the quintessence to many viewers). And, to be honest, a serial format wasn't really a proven concept. Miniseries traditionally wouldn't do well. For every <i>Roots</i> their were <i>Doctor Who</i> made-for-TV movies that had been downgraded from series orders. And for every <i>Who</i> there were about 17 single-cam <i>"I Love Lucy" </i>and <i>Honeymooners</i> knock-offs which could be made for far less money.<br />
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Maybe we can call this period the Age of the Serials. Franchises are more powerful than ever in the entertainment world. I've long enjoyed photographing the movie posters at my local theater and commenting with "Sequel … sequel … remake … sequel of a remake … based off a TV show …" etc., etc. But these isn't the mere "Halloween: Part 5" franchises anymore. Now we're dealing with two-to-three movies a year coming out of Marvel studios, each its own franchise or potential franchise, crossing over every three years with a massive billion dollar event film, new <i>Spider-Man</i> and associated spin-offs from SONY, DC Comics and Warner Bros. trying to replicate that success with a new Superman, Batman, and Justice League shared universe, FOX adopting comic book time travel to link rebooted universes into a massive conglomerate for X-Men, and freaking <i>STAR WARS</i> getting produced into an even bigger Death Star of a warship. All of these movies I will pay upwards of $18 to see in theaters, possibly with popcorn, <u><i>by the end of next year</i></u>.<br />
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Now, nerds have always been more amiable to serialized stories. It's where we come from, generally speaking. The trick Networks have played is to convince average, well-rounded people to become as fanatical about one particular show as rabid nerds can be about <i>Star Wars</i>. I've seen people reading Game of Thrones who had previously seriously doubted had the capacity to read. Those are 700 pages tomes, filled to bursting with obscure, Old English spellings and fanciful, fictitious languages. Characters fight with swords and dragons, but spend 90% of their time engaging in courtly intrigue and sharp wit. People are buying these kinds of books because they "Really liked the first three seasons."<br />
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So what was the trick, if not simply making a better product? It's this: these Networks are still dying.<br />
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HBO GO was crashed by the sheer number of people attempting to stream the <i>Game of Thrones</i> premier through the network's app. The majority of these people do not pay any money to HBO, but rather know <b>someone</b> who was willing or foolish enough to fork over their password. These people, actual HBO subscribers, could watch the premier live on their TVs. This means that nearly all of the people watching through the app one hour after broadcast were <i>not actually paying HBO anything</i>. They were stealing. So many of them that it outstripped the service's ability to <i>function</i>.<br />
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Or perhaps we pick a different delivery method. FX Network bills <i>American Horror Story</i> as an "anthology series," each season being a self-contained story akin to a long-format <i>Twilight Zone</i>. Each season is 12-13 episodes, amassing equal airtime, about 75% of that actual story. These shows are watched once, and then nothing. Perhaps some DVD sales. But they are <i>talked about</i> seemingly forever, but mostly only in anticipation of the <i>next</i> episode or iteration.<br />
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There are always a few viewers who will subscribe to a Network or service just to watch their one new favorite series, but these are not life-time consumers. They are month-to-month and you can't maintain a vast corporation around that when 99% of your other programming is turned on in the background of a Kraft Dinner. Networks are going to hemorrhage money from their cheap shows while 1% of their lineup makes a majority of the profits, but <i>those</i> shows continue to cost drastically more to produce in the first place. The logical solution seems to be to produce fewer shows with higher quality, and allow for more reruns and syndication in their 24-hour broadcast cycles.<br />
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But there's the kick: not one viewer cares. They want to see their show, and they want to be able to gorge on it. So for the time being, Networks make their best shows drawn-out and riddled with suspense, so much so that we end up watching flawed characters make flawed decisions on ever more increasingly grand scales, becoming cartoonish villains and caricatures of their initial selves. Jack Bauer has had the worst 192 hours a human being can endure. Walter White became Lex Luthor, and then Bryan Cranston narrowly lost that exact role to the kid from "The Social Network." Don Draper is in desperate need of a psychologist and a liver transplant, Rick Grimes and his son Carl have pretty obviously turned into mad sociopaths out of necessity, and I honestly don't know if the apparently endless Stark lineage can survive a planned seven-book run. The stakes keep getting higher, every commercial or credits run comes with bated breath, and viewers wait interminably for another episode to air, as if it were the only thing worth discussing since Tony Soprano (maybe) died.<br />
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Meanwhile, I'm done. Many, many, people, nerds and hipsters and Pre-K teachers among them, are bailing on watching live programming. A lot of people I know are using DVR to at least watch a show on their own work schedule or skip through the commercials, while many others simply stream online. Lamenting that Netflix can't upload a season until the home release is also available? Here's a neat trick: try Googling "Watch [NAME OF SHOW] online," and see what pops up. Legality issues aside, everything you've ever wanted to watch even the slightest is available to view on the Internet for free. It's not even hard, and in most cases, once the file is uploaded, there's nothing <i>illegal</i> about watching the thing that's already there. (Downloading and uploading, mind you, are still outlandishly punishable copyright offenses.)<br />
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Instantaneous gratification culture is killing Network Television, and I couldn't care less. I'm more excited to see what existing and new companies do when they realize it'll be more profitable to create one exceptional franchise with a reasonable pace and release it in complete installments all together (Hint hint: <i>Arrested Development</i>) than to cling desperately to failing media and schedules, begging Seth McFarlane to drop one more morsel on their plate. Even George Lucas and Spielberg discussed the future of the movie industry in similar terms, telling Empire magazine last year to expect fewer, bigger-budget movies and lots of small indie films, with ticket prices correlated directly to that cost, and playing in theaters for up to years at a time.<br />
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I would <i>love</i> to see 17 television stations and a TV that's mostly streaming apps <i>à la carte</i>. Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-2350172364888814232014-01-26T12:14:00.001-05:002014-01-26T12:14:18.227-05:00Harry Potter - Education, Population, and Socioeconomics<br />
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As quaint as they find Muggle society, Witches and Wizards in Harry Potter seem to have a very peculiar culture of their own. After watching the films and some exhaustive online research, I find myself asking a few fundamental questions. Generally, my roommate has silenced these queries with "Oh my god shut up its just a movie you're ruining it for me," but she's not here right now, so ha!<br />
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Religion:<br /><br />Christmas is still celebrated, granted in its most secular aspects but still the modern form, yet what are miracles in a world of magic? Excepting resurrection, which is achieved only through the legendary resurrection stone or the blackest magic of horcruxes, every miracle traditionally attributed to Christ is taught to the average third-year. Water to wine, levitation, aparating food. These are straight-forward. (Apparently food cannot be created, only moved. This is one of magic's few fundamental restrictions, so maybe Jesus was simply an epic chef?)<br /><br />There is an afterlife. Whether you've personally seen it and talked to your dead relatives and headmaster aside, ghosts are a common sight during lunch period. This … has got to put a damper on the bible and organized religion in general. If nothing else, it should codify it somehow. In the wizarding world, has the public knowledge of existence after this mortal realm simply anesthetized the more fanciful aspects of religious fervor from our hearts? Are there no Jews, no Muslims, Buddhists, or Sumerian worshipers? Since Hogwarts was founded half a millennium before the breakaway of the Anglican church, I'm going to assume they were originally Catholic at best, if not outright Pagan and animists. Perhaps they simply adopted the trappings of Christmas out of English cultural camouflage.<br /><br /><br /><br />Culture:<br /><br />Which brings us to Wizard-Muggle interaction.<br /><br />Apparently, the upper echelons of the Muggle world are aware of and work with the wizarding community, but it should be universally recognized that with their own history, technologies, cultures, government, and penal systems, the magical world remains completely autonomous from its mundane counterpart.<br /><br />According to my roommate, a subplot from the books which never made it to screen involved Mr. Weasely's hobbyist fascination with Mundy technology, outfitting a car with levitating ability and accruing a collection of batteries. According to her, magic and muggle devices do not play well together. Sure. Fine. Don't cross the streams. I got you.<br /><br />However at what point did wizard give up on technology and become complacent? Steam engines and rail cars certainly caught on for long-distance mass transport, but fireplaces, toilets, brooms, and just general aparating seem the de facto methods of transport for small groups. Streetlights are usable, but not common to the magical realms. It would not be unreasonable to say a eternally burning candle is more efficient, but this raises so many conservation of energy questions I'd like to set it aside for a moment.<br /><br />At what point did wizards stop developing better equipment for daily life? The only innovations seem to be in the scope of brooms, candies and jokes, and odd personal tinkering. Culture itself seems to have stalled out some time in the early 20th century, fashion-wise, and earlier still in regards to non-magical items of utility. Perhaps we're only missing a larger picture, missing the long and varied history of magical computational tools and dictating devices. The movies do take place from 1990-1997, mind you. It's unreasonable to assume Hermione would have brought a MacBook along with her cat.<br /><br />Perhaps the complete lack of awareness to modern Muggle technology and society is indicative of how we ourselves remain predominantly unaware of customs and standards in even nearby foreign nations. Is it better, then, to consider Wizarding Britain a country unto itself, occupying overlapping though quietly ceded territory with the U.K. proper?<br /><br /><br /><br />Money, Economics, and Government:<br /><br />All these items come together in a disastrous head: How the hell do Hogwarts and the wizarding community even function?<br /><br />Hogwarts as a school was founded in the year 990, by the four most prominent and talented magicians of their era, somewhere in Scotland. This predates England as a unified kingdom in any semblance, and thus establishes it as a separate, non-governmental entity.<br /><br />Jumping to modern usage, Hogwarts prepares all students for their O.W.L. examinations, a government-approved standardized test for budding wizards roughly akin to a combination of the SATs and a drivers test. The Ministry of Magic maintains a close relationship with the school, but it is officially a private institution.<br /><br />Since only the philosopher's stone–at very, very great cost mind you–can actually create gold, actual work must go into creating the wealth by which Hogwarts is kept functioning. Wizarding families have varying economic classes, and Harry Potter himself is of no small fortune, a capitalist economy, albeit mitigated by the ability to essentially create most objects given the right materials, talent, and time–so, life–is evident. Three types of currency are also noted, exemplifying this system: 29 bronze Knuts to a silver Sickle, 17 Sickles to a gold galleon. (It's like the Imperial system on crack.) So who pays students' tuition?<br /><br />It should be recognized that Hogwarts admits students very oddly. They are granted placement, and though expected to procure their own supplies, tuition, room and board, even transportation costs seem to be gifted by scholarship. It is a huge honor to be accepted to Hogwarts.<br /><br />And yet every Weasley for three generations, ass-poor, has been admitted, up to four at a time. That's not fiscal prudence, that's legacy. A possible theory is that, due to its prolific nature, Hogwarts has, over a full millennium of scholarship, amassed an insane fortune from endowments, invested it wisely, and uses the proceeds to pay the way for every student who walks through its doors, likely with a not small government subsidy for adhering to O.W.L. guidelines (which they likely developed, mind you).<br />
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While other countries' schools are mentioned (never in the New World, mind you; it's quite curious American wizards never had anything to say or intervene about with the whole 'dark lord starting an ethnic cleansing' thing), Hogwarts appears to be the only Magical school in the whole of the UK. Unless they're homeschooled, every British child of hocus-pocus blood goes through those doors. These numbers cannot possibly add up, at least at face value. We know there are at least several thousand adult magic users in London's magical shopping districts alone. We've seen international Quidditch matches attended by the tens of thousands, with thirteen professional teams in England and seven different newspapers reporting on their seasons.<br />
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Or, just maybe, there is simply a wizarding version of public school,
and once again we have simply viewed the lives of incredibly lucky or
incredibly wealthy, predominantly white kids in high school, with a dash
of alluding to racism and a whole lot of elitist class bullshit just
like every other British story of the last 60 years. <br />
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But perhaps not.<br />
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Population: <br /><br />How many students are there, really? J.K. Rowling initially claimed there to be about a thousand students at Hogwarts, though later revised this to about 600 as she had only written around 40 characters in Harry's year. The internet seems to have settled on three-hundred. My roommate, though I can find no mention of this number, insists there are 50 students admitted to each house, each year. That's 200 students per grade, with 7 years of schooling between them. Rounding up for error–assuming fifty is an approximate average, that's at most only 1500 undergrads at any given moment. Roughly a small community college. So somewhere between 300 and 1500 is our answer.<br />
<br />According to Ask.com, in 2012 there were 10,466,700 schoolchildren in the whole of the UK, roughly 18.7% its total population. The population in 1998 was roughly 50 million in total, so assuming relatively stable matriculating rates over the last 16 years, that would provide Harry Potter's United Kingdom just about 9.35 million children on the high end. Comparing these two figures, we arrive at a Wizarding student, and therefore total population that is approximately 1.6% of the total British commonwealth (about 800,000 in 1998 and just about 900,000 today). On the low end, that leaves us only 1600 wizards in 1998. Spread out over the whole of the United Kingdom, this number is, at face value, insubstantial to maintain the communities seen, so the larger of the two is more likely.<br />
<br />That said, Hogsmeade, the closest town to Hogwarts for many miles, is the only all-wizard village in all of Scotland. What we see in London is Diagon Alley, a single street crammed full of every magical shop imaginable, and the only openly magical thoroughfare in London. While there may only be upwards of 40 or 50 shops, since we know magicians can play with spatial relations, both of people and objects, it is entirely possible that this community is displaced from the natural world to some degree, squished into less volume than it appears, or that the entryway to the Alley is in fact merely a gateway through which one is 'adjusted' to a new, more fitting, width. <br />
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The short of it is, there is a sizeable Wizard community in England–albeit a sliver minority in the total human population–and the vast majority of these magic users must go without formal education. They must take vocational training, go into family businesses, or otherwise become menial laborers. There seem to be no repercussions for dropping out after passing the O.W.L.s, as two of the Weasley clan did, though doing so before passing the follow-up N.E.W.T.s would prevent a student from landing government and private sector jobs in certain fields.<br />Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-55760406905075603502013-10-23T23:33:00.001-04:002013-10-23T23:33:04.257-04:00On Filial Piety: Max Goof, Stevo, and Reconciling Individualism with Parental Values
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<i>So the other day, I was naked
with a finger wedged deep in my ear and snacking on rice cakes soaked
in soy sauce while balancing on one foot on a pyramid of delicate
china cups and saucers, and I thought to myself, 'Oh my God, I've
become my father!'" - Bob Roth</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">'Do we inevitably
become our parents?' It's a question that plagues my dreams at night,
somewhat less frequently than the zombie apocalypse but drastically
more terrifying. I'm at least<i> prepared</i> for the zombie
apocalypse. I own large knives, I can theoretically use a firearm, I
am learning to ride a motorcycle (towards <i>and </i>away from
explosions), and frankly I'm prepared to die a meaningless death
because I don't have the stamina or cajones to survive the fall of
civilization. I'm barely prepared to survive the fall of my wireless
coverage.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> What I'm<i> certainly
</i>not prepared for is giving up my humanities degree and becoming a
project manager for a huge, multinational telecommunications company.
That's what my parents ended up doing. Three bachelors and two
masters degrees between the two of them. And what was my father's
choice career advice? “Be a stock broker. Work your butt off for
fifteen years and retire by forty.” Sage wisdom from a
Philosophy/Psych major.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Yet is it natural,
after asserting our independence and striking out on our own, to
return to the traditions and behaviors on which we were raised? In
exploring this notion we have to examine values of both parent and
child, and I can think of no more entertaining and accessible way to
do this than through the lenses of two films vastly separated in
genre and audience, but closely related by the theme at hand: 1999's
<i>SLC Punk!</i> and Walt Disney Pictures' 1995 “Goof Troop”
spinoff, <i>A Goofy Movie.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Within <i>A Goofy Movie</i>
there are two father-son relationships: predominantly Goofy and Max,
but also that of their next door neighbors, Goofy's time-honored foil
Pete and his son P.J. (Pete Jr.). While Goofy is a caring and loving
father, Pete is the martinet, keeping his son in line through fear
and discipline, prescribing an endless series of chores throughout
their vacation, which exclusively serve either Pete Sr.'s personal
extravagances or to reinforce his supremacy. In giving Goofy
parenting advice, he refers to this as “Keep[ing] them under your
thumb.” P.J. stands at attention before his father, comes when
called to perform tasks, but otherwise avoids spending time with his
father, in private company going so far as to openly resent it.
Pete's strict mode of parenting does not create the same kind or
strength of bond that Goofy and Max develop throughout the picture.
Contrarily, Pete doesn't even give his son a personal name, instead
bequeathing P.J. <i>his own</i> name in attempt to forcibly mold his
offspring into that same identity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Quite similarly, in <i>SLC
Punk!</i> we are introduced to protagonist Stevo's father,
who–representing a traditional upbringing–encourages Stevo to go
to law school and finish his education, particularly the very college
and law school he himself intended. His seemingly lax attitude and
post-graduation recommendation of “and then do whatever” is
counteracted by the on-its-face ridiculous notion to first “try it
for four years and if you don't like it, quit.” Stevo's parents
duet an advisory call-and-response: “Be free,” “Be practical,”
“Go to Harvard,” “But have fun,” “Be an individual,” but
he should get a haircut. Politely and honestly, Stevo begins to
criticize his parents for abandoning the “Cultural Mecca” of
their former home in New York City and with it the ideals of the
1960s, exchanging them for a white picket fence lifestyle in Salt
Lake City, Utah. He later calls his father a hypocrite for being
Jewish yet driving a German Porsche, for applying to Harvard Law
School under Stevo's name and, more seriously, for getting divorcing
Stevo's mother, saying “Y'know, you gave up a good thing in my
mother, Sir.” Though he admits to “just busting his balls,”
Stevo's disagreements with his father's values are sincere.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The major problem with
the question “Do we become our parents?” is it inherently holds a
bias towards the child's perspective. That is, it assumes becoming
like one's parents is of necessity a bad thing: losing aspects of
one's personal identity, becoming subservient and filling assigned
roles is a loss of both freedom and self for an individual and
(partially) a psychological death. It is an imposition few children
appreciate as they grow into adulthood.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> But rather than accept
this value judgement, we should first examine the values of our
parents. If, like 98 percent of children in the United States, a
child is not abused, his parents can't have been too morally
reprehensible. Likewise, if a child lives in the suburbs like roughly
half the U.S. population as judged by the 2006 census, she probably
does not have much to rebel against other than being as drearily
average as P.J. or Stevo's families.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> While
these are certainly certain parents </span><i>not</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
to use as role models, that is not to say becoming like one's parents
is </span><i>universally</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> a poor
life. Max Goof shares equally with P.J. and Stevo an apprehension
becoming anything like his father, or at least fearful of acquiring
the genetic and personal traits he has grown to view as embarrassing,
unhip or otherwise unenlightened. The film opens, in fact, with a
nightmare sequence in which Max's idyllic pastoral plane is morphs
into a grove of thorns as he frightens away his love interest,
Roxanne, by undergoing a werewolf-like transformation into his own
buck-toothed and clumsy, </span><i>HYUCK!</i><span style="font-style: normal;">-ing
father.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Throughout
the movie, though, Goofy's values are not so terrible. Much the
opposite, he prides himself on leniency and understanding of his
son's feelings, preferring over Pete's rules and harshness family
togetherness and traditions like father-son vacations and the
family's secret fly fishing “perfect cast.” Excepting perhaps his
father's taste in music, Max's greatest issue with Goofy is not his
ideals or even his clumsiness, but rather that he feels smothered
under his father's constant and frequently embarrassing presence in
Max's personal. This, Max feels, hinders his development and growth
as an individual and so he comes to view Goofy's ideals, though
wholesome, as an imposition of parental will as antagonizing as
Pete's.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> The issue at hand is
really a value judgement placing a child's accrued morals and
experience over those impressed upon him by his parents earlier in
life. Learning that our parents might be in possession of values not
openly hostile to our own, perhaps even well-conceived and tested by
decades of experience beyond our own, the question takes a different
shape: “Are our values, if different, really any better than those
of our parents?” If our values are no better than those of our
parents, even in line with theirs, what can be said of our growth as
individuals?</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Max Goof feels like a
nobody in his high school, at worst a loser to be picked on, at best
fading into the background. However he also believes that he does
have some innate coolness. If he can do something outlandish and cool
he would win the heart of Roxanne.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote1sym" name="sdfootnote1anc"><sup>1</sup></a>
The act he chooses is to interrupt a school assembly with a
pyrotechnic-laden lip syncing performance while dressed as Powerline,
his world's most popular pop star among children his age. Quite
literally, Max abandon's his own identity and adopted a preexisting,
sauve, well-liked persona which is at once rebellion against the role
of his father's son and conformist in regards to his peers, which
does manage to impress the latter at the expense of the former.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> This is of course the
impetus for story's main conflict, wherein Goofy attempts to “save”
his son's soul from a life of delinquency while Max tries to maintain
his own independence and coolness. Yet Max maintains a relatively
stable moral framework, managing to enjoy time alone with his father
away from social constraints. When Max alters his father's road map
to culminate not in a father-son fishing vacation, but at Powerline's
rock concert in L.A., it is for him a devastatingly conflicted
choice, but one he feels necessary to preserve his identity from
crushed under being his father's will. It is an open deception of his
father, something Max is not at all comfortable with and its exposure
opens an emotional rift between the two.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote2sym" name="sdfootnote2anc"><sup>3</sup></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <i><span style="background: transparent;">SLC</span></i><i>
Punk!</i> features a protagonist much more openly dislikable by
mainstream society. A punk rocker and anarchist in 1985 Utah, Stevo's
values are frequently directly opposed to the ordered society to
which his parents belong, often seeking it's partial or total
dismantlement. He rebuffs his parents' advice for living a normal
collegiate life, calling them hypocrites for leaving a societal hub
of counterculture, for exchanging their ideals for high-salary jobs
and expensive cars, for rejecting through the dissolution of their
marriage even the very notion that true love can conquer all. In one
of the film's most quotable moments Stevo asserts his contrarian
lifestyle: “I am the future of this great nation! … I love you
guys, don't get me wrong … but for the first time in my life I can
say '<i>Fuck you</i>!'”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> When
asked by his father why he even bothered to major in pre-law at
community college, Stevo replies, “I studied law because I wanted
to learn how completely full of shit your life's ambition really is.”
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;">Yet Stevo's
actions undercut his mission statement of no-rules rule. The very
fact that he </span><i>did </i><span style="font-style: normal;">attend
college is evidence of this and, as his father points out, even if he
achieved success by cheating for four straight years, Stevo cared
enough about grades and his status in society to desire and receive
high marks in all his classes. Becoming conscious of this duality, he
thinks to himself:</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My
dad was right about one thing. Why'd I do so well in school? I didn't
want to. I mean, I tried. I tried not to give a shit. I knew it was
all bullshit and they were trying to mold me into cannon fodder for
their wars. And I knew that meaning lie elsewhere, but somehow I
studied. Somehow I got the grades and now </span><i>somehow</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><i><b>I</b></i><span style="font-style: normal;"> was accepted
to a fucking Ivy League school–the last place on the planet for a
guy like me. I mean I wouldn't even go there unless it was to set it
on fire.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in; margin-right: 0.54in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: 0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Stevo further muses that when he
actively takes part in fighting the local rednecks he is partaking in
a hierarchal system that is in essence a scaled-down version of war,
creating the same Us versus Them mentality underpinning nationalism,
colonialism and the irrational, self-propagating discourse
surrounding Edward Said's “The Other.” He recognizes that this is
a system very similar to the one he rejects as being antithetical to
his anarchist doctrine, admitting he can offer no explanation for
this. While actively engaged in a fight he concedes, “Everything
has a system, even me. I was following nature; nature is order and
order is the system.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: transparent;">So</span>
what happens if a child's alternative value systems collapses?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> In Max's case the act of duplicity
he was already feeling guilty about is discovered, resulting in an
impassioned argument with his father, wherein Max argues that his
negative actions come about only in trying to distance himself from
his father and grow as a person. Their argument grows so heated that
they begin to ignore the physical world around them that the two,
along with their car, tumble over a cliff and into a rolling river.
Surrounded by water and cut off from any other 'human' influence, Max
and Goofy are forced to deal with each other directly:</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Goofy: You even lied to me.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Max: I had to! You were ruining my
life!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Goofy: I was only tryin' to take my
boy fishin', okay?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Max: I'm not your little boy anymore,
Dad! I've grown up now! I've got my own life!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Goofy: I know that! I just want to be
<i>part </i>of it! </span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is at this Max realizes distancing
himself from his father is causing as much turmoil in their
relationship as Goofy's attempts to forcibly bridge the divide.
Father and son then come to a mutual understanding via a stirring
musical number we shall address shortly.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Stevo, however, is a bit older.
Having graduated from college and now living outside his parents'
homes, we get to see his alternative values play out in the larger
world. Out with his casual girlfriend Sandy, Stevo runs into a fellow
punk from high school named Sean, who has since accidentally
overdosed on acid and, thinking his mother to literally be a Satanic
monster, attempted to murder her with a kitchen knife. Following a
brief incarceration in a psychiatric facility, Sean is now
panhandling on the street, “FUCK YOU” scrawled across his torn
clothes and incapable of the basic human interaction necessary to
support himself. Sandy's immediate advice, to which Stevo readily
agrees? “You should get a job.”<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote3sym" name="sdfootnote3anc"><sup>4</sup></a>
When faced with <i>real </i><span style="font-style: normal;">hardship,
the punks' first instinct is not to thrash the system and take what
they need to survive by force, but to accede to that system's
structure.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Seeing what can happen to people
close to him who follow his same anarchistic doctrine to the extreme,
Stevo muses:</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
“I couldn't even look at the guy. I
felt a pain in my stomach. I couldn't take it so I turned my back,
just like everybody else … It really fucked me up. Not Sean, but
turning my back. Ignoring the truth. So what'd I do? I dropped acid
with Sandy in Highland Park as to further ignore the truth.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Stevo openly admits to running away
from the harsher elements of his lifestyle, implying that he might be
cognizant of his desire for some of the protections offered by an
ordered society. As Stevo's personal relationships begin to crumble,
he sarcastically mouths off to his best friend and roommate Bob for
falling in love and considering marriage and a family and running a
business. “You're a poseur,” Stevo says. “Only poseurs fall in
love with girls. You're a poseur.” While he quickly reneges, the
thought has been vocalized. Stevo cannot reconcile his own desires
with his current lifestyle.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> The final death of Stevo's ideology
comes with the untimely loss of Bob, at which Stevo expresses denial,
grief, guilt, anger and bargaining all in the space of about ninety
seconds. He insists, “Only poseur's die,” but this is a clear
fallacy in his belief structure and an argument that cannot resurrect
Bob. As realization dawns over Stevo, he laments that he has lost his
last real friend, muttering simply, “Oh <i>man</i>. Oh <i>jeeze</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
Oh my </span><i>God</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. I wasn't
ready for this. I wasn't </span><i>ready</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.”
It may be quick, but in this short line of dialogue Stevo has
completely discarded anarchism, invoking first Man, then in
minced-oath Jesus Christ, then finally God.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Stevo's
penance as the prodigal son of family and tradition is to shave his
perpetually blue, spiky hair down to a Spartan buzz cut for Bob's
funeral and don in place of his usual t-shirts and razor blades a
mournful, black suit. “If the guy I was then met the guy I am now,”
Steve says, “He'd beat the shit out of me.” In the final
voiceover he openly repudiates his former values and agrees to return
to traditional society<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote4sym" name="sdfootnote4anc"><sup>5</sup></a>:</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 1.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So there it was. I was gonna go to
Harvard, be a lawyer and play the goddam system … I <i>was</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
my old man. He knew….We were certain that the world was gonna end,
but when it didn't I had to do something, so fuck it. That was me: a
troublemaker of the future … You can do a lot more damage in the
system than from outside of it … I was nothing more than a goddam
trendy-ass poseur.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1in; margin-right: 0.01in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Though Stevo is pushed
through only the most begrudging reconciliation with traditional
family values, Max comes to terms with his father in a much happier,
prototypically Disney fashion. Following their shouting match atop
the barely-floating car drifting down river, Max and Goofy sing a
duet through which they learn to respect and even admire each other's
differences. Max chimes in regarding his father, “Though he seems
intoxicated/He's just highly animated,” to which Goofy reciprocates
with, “Your moodiness is now and then bewilderin'/And your values
may be–so to speak–askew.” Max concedes that his father acts
only out of love and he will honor that, while Goofy agrees to
respect his son's emotional space and allow him to experience parts
of life on his own. <span style="background: transparent;">Newly</span>
reconciled, Max and Goofy have an (assumedly) cherished
heart-to-heart between scenes in which Max catches his father up on
his teenage angst and the Powerline predicament. Goofy then decides
that the only appropriate way to end their ordeal is to get Max
onstage at the Powerline concert in L.A. as promised, thereby
negating his son's lie to Roxanne and getting Max some sweet, sweet
dog lovin'.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote5sym" name="sdfootnote5anc"><sup>6</sup></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> However, before Max can
gain any real reward from this new acceptance and openness with his
father, he must first be tested to see if he is deserving of his
father's boon. Max needs a trial-by-fire. Or waterfall. A
trial-by-waterfall. That works too. They're already floating
downstream through a canyon, after all. Goofy cements his place as a
good father by getting Max to (relative) safety fairly quickly, but
Max has to find a way to save his father from tumbling over the
falls. With only a fishing poll and tea set floating nearby, Max
saves his father by correctly executing the family's secret “perfect
cast,” despite how ridiculous it makes him look in the process. The
adoption of family tradition over 'looking cool' firmly plants Max's
morality back in traditional Disney soil. Alive and safe the loving
father-and-son duo can now go break into a stadium, sneak on stage,
ruin tens of thousands of dollars worth of electronic equipment and
then utilize the perfect cast as an original dance step, bridging old
and new generations in mutually destructive and illegal havoc
broadcast over national television.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> In denouement, Max
reveals to the disturbingly nubile Roxanne<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote6sym" name="sdfootnote6anc"><sup>7</sup></a>
that he does not in fact know Powerline, whereby she informs him that
she was instantly attracted to not his faux-suaveness or his looks,
but to his hereditary <i>HYUK</i>, the very laughter Max had feared,
loathed and attempted to hide from her. This happy Disney ending
validates Max's choice of family tradition over contrariness for its
own sake, whereas <i>SLC Punk! </i>takes the darker approach of
effectively punishing Stevo's reluctance to accept his own parents'
values. Though Disney understandably portrays this choice as
thoughtful and worthy of praise, and though <i>SLC Punk!</i> rather
callously defines parents' values as being akin to the 'lesser of two
evils,' both convey the solid warning that values which are old and
not well understood by some does not make them necessarily wrong in
the long-term. More often than not these values endure because they
are things we too will come to believe in time, when we better
understand the world and are not immediately terrified of possibly,
maybe, slightly, even remotely becoming even a smidge like our
parents. But Zeus help me if I turn out anything like my father.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.01in; margin-right: -0.01in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
<div id="sdfootnote1">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote1anc" name="sdfootnote1sym">1</a>A
small sampling of appropriately aged heterosexual middle-class males
seems to indicate that Roxanne is by far one of the most common
cartoon characters to give little boys funny feelings for the first
time. To my knowledge, however, none of these participants have
actually engaged in romantic relationships with real dogs.<sup>2</sup></span></div>
<div class="sdfootnote" style="margin-left: 0.21in; text-indent: -0.21in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;">2</span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><b>Sub-footnote</b></span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;">:
Yes, everyone in the </span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><i>Goof
Troop </i></span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-style: normal;">universe
is a <br />dog. </span></span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;">Goofy's
“raucous laugh” predates his screen debut, but he was in his
first appearance credited as “Doofy Dawg.” You see that “W”
in “dawg?” Yeah, Walt Disney was a real O.G., son. </span><span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><i>Word.</i></span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote2">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote2anc" name="sdfootnote2sym">3</a>A
rift that can only be closed with a car-rafting musical duet.</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote3">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote3anc" name="sdfootnote3sym">4</a>Officially
the third most parental saying in the English language, right after,
“When are you getting a haircut,” and “Ask your mother.”</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote4">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote4anc" name="sdfootnote4sym">5</a>So
long as he can cause trouble by pissing off judges as a lawyer.</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote5">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote5anc" name="sdfootnote5sym">6</a>Remember:
they're dogs. Still. This hasn't changed in the last four footnotes.</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote6">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<span style="font-family: Courier, monospace;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2983170650917979636#sdfootnote6anc" name="sdfootnote6sym">7</a>Seriously?
What's up with that? I haven't been this confused since <i>Clueless</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
(Paul Rudd is just too awesome. Every man bro-crushes on Paul Rudd.)</span></span></div>
</div>
Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-5751579398479480312013-07-18T23:13:00.001-04:002013-07-18T23:21:28.486-04:00The Travesty and Tragedy of George ZimmermanThe tragedy of George Zimmerman is that he probably really did feel
threatened by a seventeen year old black man wearing a hoodie, walking
through his neighborhood.<br />
<br />
At its most banal retelling,
George Zimmerman was a passably inept member of his neighborhood watch,
who thought it was suspicious that a dark-skinned teenager would be in
the area, walking calmly through the rain. He stalked this man, was
confronted by this man, and this resulted in George's gun going off at
close range, killing Trayvon Martin.<br />
<br />
Media and the
public at large are furious that Zimmerman was acquitted of murder
charges, but trying Zimmerman for murder now in a federal court with
hate-crime statutes attached is not really going to make anyone but
Trayvon's family feel better. It does not guarantee that actual racists
will think twice before casually murdering anyone and then relying on
"good ol' boy" regional politics to claim self-defense. <br />
<br />
<br />
George
Zimmerman is actually proof that our society is evolving to hold its
members to an ethical standard higher than the bare minimum of the law.<br />
<br />
By all accounts, George handled his situation … <i>badly</i>.
Let's just say that. He unnecessarily engaged in pursuit of a
"suspect," entered what he believed to be a dangerous situation against
police advice, and then failed to identify himself while accusing the
victim in a generic and contextually racist [in hindsight] manner.
George Zimmerman was something of an <i>idiot</i>. I think that's a fair judgement to apply.<br />
<br />
But
George Zimmerman did not commit a hate-crime, he did not seek to murder
a young black man, at least as far as anyone involved in the case can
really discern. He was, for all the condescension the phrase lends, <i>playing cops and robbers like a fucking child</i>.<br />
<br />
I mean to be profane, I am sorry, for the case calls for such. It is <i>profane</i> that a grown man who claims to suffer from Adult ADHD and require medication to remember things such as <i>the street he lives on</i> can acquire a firearm, or that he be allowed to join even an amateur, volunteer organization dedicated to safety. It is <i>profane</i>
that he has come to perceive through media and social stigma a black
man in a hooded sweatshirt as "suspicious" for his neighborhood.<br />
<br />
I will now stoop to prove a point:<br />
<br />
George
Zimmerman is half Peruvian, that half being one-quarter
African-Peruvian. His father is German Catholic. He is a registered
Democrat. A twenty-eight year old Afro-Hispanic Democrat thought that a
sweatshirt makes a black man suspicious enough to warrant investigation
for recent burglaries. This is a simplification, but the disgusting fact
is <i>not by much</i>.<br />
<br />
George Zimmerman might have watched a lot of <i>Law & Order</i>, or <i>The Wire</i>, or <i>Saved By the Bell</i> for all we know. For whatever reason, this man thought another man was behaving suspiciously <i>at the very best</i> because he was out looking to find people behaving suspiciously, <i>at the worst</i> because Trayvon's being <i>black </i>was suspicious enough.<br />
<br />
<br />
The
sad truth is George probably really did feel threatened by a seventeen
year old black man wearing a hoodie, walking through his neighborhood.
He put himself in a stupid situation, handled it poorly, reducing the
number of possible outcomes to the one wear he ended up on trial for
murder, because what seems to have happened was staggeringly less likely
than the idea that he was simply a violent racist.<br />
<br />
George Zimmerman <i>did</i>
behave like a racist when he profiled Trayvon Martin as "up to no
good." He internalized every image of gangbangers or hoodlums or early
'90s gangster rappers and he broadened that imagery to include a young
black man when he assigned himself the role of a police officer.<br />
<br />
That
we as a public want George tried in a federal court after a jury found
his actions to fall short of either second-degree murder (intentional)
or manslaughter (even involuntary), shows that we are "uncomfortable"
with this outcome, to say the least. Many wish him tried because they
feel his racial profile led to the encounter which escalated into
(in)voluntary manslaughter. Others will demand a retrial on grounds that
the prosecution handled its case badly, or that local law enforcement
was less than equal in the pursuit of justice.<br />
<br />
Yet
I'm pretty sure a great deal of this unrest lies in the nagging feeling
that we have perpetuated even now a culture of casual racism and its
acceptance that could allow an event such as the ending of Trayvon
Martin's life.<br />
<br />
The idea that "urban" means "Angry Black Man in Flashy Clothes."<br />
<br />
The idea that "gangbanger" has any real meaning outside the most destitute, war-torn ghettos of American metropolises.<br />
<br />
The
idea that–let's just say it–black people are criminals. Violent
criminals. That white men are gentlemen thieves stacking banking
regulations against themselves, but anyone of relatively-recent African
descent is automatically predisposed to acts of base ignorance, cruelty,
inconsideration, and physical damage.<br />
<br />
Trayvon Martin's
death was not a murder, though that would leave us all more settled,
having a wrong, racist, vile murdered to condemn as out-of-step with the
rest of us. If his death was not a crime, by the letter of the law,
then that means we have, as a progressive and just society, have allowed
social perceptions to skew so terribly and so covertly that a hate
crime can be committed in our eyes <i>by accident</i>.<br />
<br />
The
tragedy of Trayvon Martin was his horrible death. The tragedy of George
Zimmerman is that he really was doing what he thought was right, and it
was all legal.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Dave Zucker<br />
<a href="http://www.soundadoggymakes.com/">www.soundadoggymakes.com</a><br />
<a href="mailto:Dave@soundadoggymakes.com">Dave@soundadoggymakes.com</a>Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-38854334821879741652013-07-13T21:03:00.000-04:002013-07-13T21:03:08.191-04:00Man of Steel | A Half-Hearted DefenceAlright, it's been long enough. I think we can discuss this without upsetting anybody who planned on seeing the new Superman movie. As an added precaution, <b>*Spoiler-Free*</b> nerd beef with <i>Man of Steel</i> first:<br /><br />In a flashback, little Clark wore a red towel like a cape and ran around with a dog. Without Superman in this universe since 1938, WHO THE HELL WAS HE PLAYING? Captain Marvel? A fictional superhero? Is this Watchmen, and superheroes were never popular comic tropes replaced by pirates? I know Superman wasn't the <i>first</i> superhero. Batman alone predated his publication by a full year. But if the child-wearing-a-cape-superhero trope every existed, it existed because of Superman. End of story.<br />
<br />
<br />
Now: <b>*SPOILERY BITS*</b><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9PnVOfl1IwBrqS9vGuVOx_4pdI1itJ5wC3e9LPNin8qYaVeT-x6JCgJK7v6A_gY-DUph2GW1lpHgmm1tzUBOKyQjS34WCssilePXjHRTz7YIclD0AQpsyzqyOzZWp-NWFJclgNe7Dpw/s1600/136731074071a8d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9PnVOfl1IwBrqS9vGuVOx_4pdI1itJ5wC3e9LPNin8qYaVeT-x6JCgJK7v6A_gY-DUph2GW1lpHgmm1tzUBOKyQjS34WCssilePXjHRTz7YIclD0AQpsyzqyOzZWp-NWFJclgNe7Dpw/s640/136731074071a8d.jpg" width="628" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Squinting because he's looking into a Lens Flare.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Superman gets his powers from a combination of Earth's yellow sun and gravity, and–more oddly–its atmosphere.<br />
<br />
Apparently the yellow light powers him up a bit, but it's the gravity that makes him proportionately stronger and faster: Krypton is far more massive than Earth, so despite being the same approximate size as humans, Kryptonians are more rugged, denser, more resilient creatures. Fine.<br />
<br />
Flight is also apparently possible, I imagine along the same mechanics as a mastery of one's bioelectrical field in conjunction with stated weaker gravity. Fine.<br />
<br />
But the atmosphere is somehow important?<br />
<br />
As a baby, Clark apparently had trouble breathing. But he adapted and is fine now. Bring him back into a Kryptonian environment and he hypoventilates, vomits blood, and then passes out. Not good. Cellular breakdown from toxins in the atmosphere, I guess. Alright, plausible. Same thing happens to Zod/other Kryptonians on Earth. Okay, at least that's internally consistent. Zod even adapts quicker than Kal-El, and even makes a point to note that as a bred soldier, he'd be able to. Thanks for the exposition, I agree.<br />
<br />
But then once Supes is adapted enough to be conscious and not blood-spitting on the alien spacecraft, he still has no powers. None. No resiliency.<br />
<br />
What? So that yellow sunlight is basically working on his cells, which are the least efficient solar batteries ever. They store now energy. His mitochondria must not exist, replaced by some alien organelle. By this logic, Superman is powerless without direct sunlight. He's a plant. And a lousy one at that. He should go into a coma every night. Or what if Kyrptonians simply have <i>extra</i> mitochondria that work <i>only</i> in the presence of direct solar stimulation? At least then he could move, but he'd still be powerless at night, just like his (Kevin-Conroy voiced!) Venture Brothers parody.<br />
<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, and Superman has no issue with bystander casualties. Don't harp about that or killing Zod. He had to to save innocents, after so many were killed already. Superman used to kill recklessly back in the day. This horrible invasion, as the producers rightly said, explain easily why <i>from now on</i> Superman would refuse to kill and work tirelessly to save every single life.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Short version:<br />
<br />
<i>Man of Steel</i> is a poor rendition of Superman, and the pacing makes it a pretty crumby origin story, actually.<br />
<br />
However it's a fun as hell super-brawler, and that's all anyone should ever expect from Zack Snyder for any reason.<br />
<br />
Also, Jor-El and Zod pretty much acknowledge that the surpersuit is the Kryptonian equivalent of longjohns. Everybody has them under normal clothes and even armor. So even without the red underpants, Supes is still sporting his jockeys on the outside.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-15749154172433288072013-06-15T22:16:00.002-04:002013-06-15T22:48:01.405-04:0010 Buzzfeed Lists I Never Want to See Again<br />
<b>1. Anything longer than 10 bullet points</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFylaBI7yH7BIiYZn0WDEFDL4_izx_tTehXapLAfPr6vrS2OE4BOpV3IEY1_m9OlsLYe978N-3jS4T1SQidGEjjuw_Qs4T3A8t5h0wuH3BW6svaEhi4Kog6qUdMF-IR-XwnQV1M5cSW1o/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+9.48.08+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFylaBI7yH7BIiYZn0WDEFDL4_izx_tTehXapLAfPr6vrS2OE4BOpV3IEY1_m9OlsLYe978N-3jS4T1SQidGEjjuw_Qs4T3A8t5h0wuH3BW6svaEhi4Kog6qUdMF-IR-XwnQV1M5cSW1o/s400/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+9.48.08+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>2. Anything 90% videos with grainy, ambiguous stills I don't feel like loading</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi572ykMcLjTlx9PXTnuZD8OPmOfhsCncvJuMX3EV0x3NW5rIFjGnGg_5x1utdgLuF9D1rIySaC1hgI7eo9C8Z-1WU6LIIUwnaCRM8Ri0Ox6YIx-nkU1JDZUBR5eouqT9Odyv2P9NG7wh0/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+9.54.49+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi572ykMcLjTlx9PXTnuZD8OPmOfhsCncvJuMX3EV0x3NW5rIFjGnGg_5x1utdgLuF9D1rIySaC1hgI7eo9C8Z-1WU6LIIUwnaCRM8Ri0Ox6YIx-nkU1JDZUBR5eouqT9Odyv2P9NG7wh0/s400/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+9.54.49+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>3. Anything I "Wish I Had"</b><br />
<br />
<b>4. Anything about the '90s that was more a personal than objective experience</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPxcsh3bY5ojZ8sXWUuHWk0Og67Y-Swy3gFBsWfkVOz4iP-VwN4WHff3HyhjZRAApO5YCwZOpELPapPuPmf_tUXYGrVKUziLui0xo1FCefwHWod4raPBMVucdS0hvesQuXsoii7XfPtDg/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.00.52+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPxcsh3bY5ojZ8sXWUuHWk0Og67Y-Swy3gFBsWfkVOz4iP-VwN4WHff3HyhjZRAApO5YCwZOpELPapPuPmf_tUXYGrVKUziLui0xo1FCefwHWod4raPBMVucdS0hvesQuXsoii7XfPtDg/s400/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.00.52+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>5. Lists that say the same thing four different ways, just to get to the right bullet count</b><br />
<br />
<b>6. Lists that repeat themselves</b><br />
<br />
<b>7. Any reasons my mom was "amazing." I know she was amazing. I don't need a list. Shut up.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT9GoPnXFKAN3xXm0zSEpBxVjD9v8UfMvLCvPIvJq1HgykkQkvqrqE7UMGdZaR0D6267Kekgkmh-KYglhrWsp7KBGmeiK1qVsCwzupv7bSHG0JqB5HnuBpVE8jF1_WWVrilu_eUdywiA/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.03.40+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT9GoPnXFKAN3xXm0zSEpBxVjD9v8UfMvLCvPIvJq1HgykkQkvqrqE7UMGdZaR0D6267Kekgkmh-KYglhrWsp7KBGmeiK1qVsCwzupv7bSHG0JqB5HnuBpVE8jF1_WWVrilu_eUdywiA/s400/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.03.40+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>8. Anything that will "Inspire" me or make me "thankful"</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<b>9. Anything you think I didn't know about Disney, history, celebrities, Pokémon, but specifically Disney celebrities</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0ueRD3n7NZ679C1XPrg9HvgNuPD6HOlP9LuHKj4Hi0qdimPkEFPMRceVsfpafRUZtw6Ri-n3Ef5j-ybBgwCCgrMAG_H1XNGiO-vfrJ2pIk4wgMBXWOz8ZCh4tRJ4F_ERYnoucJJ6eto/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.06.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0ueRD3n7NZ679C1XPrg9HvgNuPD6HOlP9LuHKj4Hi0qdimPkEFPMRceVsfpafRUZtw6Ri-n3Ef5j-ybBgwCCgrMAG_H1XNGiO-vfrJ2pIk4wgMBXWOz8ZCh4tRJ4F_ERYnoucJJ6eto/s400/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.06.43+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<b></b><br />
<br />
<b><b>10. Lists that go on so long I lose interest and pray the next scroll shows me the comments</b> </b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0ueRD3n7NZ679C1XPrg9HvgNuPD6HOlP9LuHKj4Hi0qdimPkEFPMRceVsfpafRUZtw6Ri-n3Ef5j-ybBgwCCgrMAG_H1XNGiO-vfrJ2pIk4wgMBXWOz8ZCh4tRJ4F_ERYnoucJJ6eto/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.06.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFhNCI2iz65lP4A_ptyGbFjt3LxqzafU-56ItYrNVm-GzsuWMrq_CNh8uxbp7Oi0_UKJjCmVQjfhxJ1bA8shMwscfk-w0crPbf13-248UiNvchG8ShczaQJojWhgC53QrsIF-xkeTT9o/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.05.47+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFhNCI2iz65lP4A_ptyGbFjt3LxqzafU-56ItYrNVm-GzsuWMrq_CNh8uxbp7Oi0_UKJjCmVQjfhxJ1bA8shMwscfk-w0crPbf13-248UiNvchG8ShczaQJojWhgC53QrsIF-xkeTT9o/s640/Screen+shot+2013-06-15+at+10.05.47+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-56202752452094047882013-05-17T00:04:00.001-04:002013-05-17T00:04:06.572-04:00If I Am to Die on a TrapezeI will be turning 27 at the end of this year. While 26 fell firmly into the camp of Good, But Dumb Years along with 22, 23, and 24, 27 has a special magic to it.<br />
<br />
It's not the square year 25 was, a simple 5<span style="font-size: x-small;"><sup>2</sup></span>. No, 27 is 3<span style="font-size: x-small;"><sup>3</sup></span>. That's <i>three to the third</i>. It's perfect. You could write it in base-3 as <i>1,000.</i> It's so mathematically beautiful I appreciate it without even comprehending its exact importance.<br />
<br />
For the rest of the world, 27 means I am going to die.<br />
<br />
No, this is not some preemptive strike <i>à la</i> <i>Logan's Run</i>. <a href="http://www.soundadoggymakes.com/search?q=27+club">The Twenty-Seven Club</a> is a collection of famous and sometimes infamous persons throughout rock & roll history–though it is often expanded to include film and other media–who have all died at the age of 27. Principally among them Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and Brian Jones all within three years of each other, then later Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse, and a number of other musicians without a J-name.<br />
<br />
Just as I had gotten over the nagging suspicion I would be struck to death by a bus before I turned 25, I have discovered a wonderful new sense of paranoia. And a deadline:<br />
<br />
I must achieve fame and notoriety in the next 18 months so that my "untimely" death will include me among these delightful degenerates. I must also knock out my bucket list in this time, which means I have to <i>make a bucket list</i>.<br />
<br />
Right now, the only thing I want to do before I die is take a $586 ten week trapeze workshop at the end of which I put on a "recital" for all my friends and family.<br />
<br />
You heard me. I went for the first a friend's birthday recently and loved every terrifying minute of it, and it turns out I was pretty good. $586 is a lot to lay-out for a couple months of fun, certainly more than a gym membership, but my time is short and I certainly can't take the money with me when I go. However, this does pose something of a problem for me:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMjDXcU618NyKKbkHXUpu-PDcLb0aodOYsfGp5hUJU86b2DbwZ_aad8iEwIrbb5dqT5OBztiJqGODN9oz0_zwTa2AalpdWFA4xZrWQoQOeTgC7z9nH0df-IOsVtGZIeQSf6XB_wtK0Ws/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMjDXcU618NyKKbkHXUpu-PDcLb0aodOYsfGp5hUJU86b2DbwZ_aad8iEwIrbb5dqT5OBztiJqGODN9oz0_zwTa2AalpdWFA4xZrWQoQOeTgC7z9nH0df-IOsVtGZIeQSf6XB_wtK0Ws/s400/DSC_0004.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
That is one hell of a good way to die.<br />
<br />
I don't mean to imply any safety concerns, far from it. The class I had was highly monitored and seemed safe as anything else. Batman-level catastrophes would have to simultaneously occur to defeat the safety precautions put in place by this school. I mean to say it is such a fun way to go I almost want it to be my sign-off.<br />
<br />
<i>"Dave died? How?"</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Oh, it was an unfortunate <b>trapeze incident</b>."</i><br />
<br />
Yes, please. It definitely sounds better than "drug overdose" or "drunk driver," the preferred methods of 27 Club alumni. You say, "Cancer," and people just make that pitying sigh. <i>"Oh, that sucks." </i>You know what to say about cancer. You know what no one shy of a ring master has ever had a prepared response for?<br />
<br />
<i>"Unfortunate trapeze incident."</i><br />
<br />
If I get to heaven and they ask me how I died, and I said, smirking of course, "An unfortunate trapeze incident," they would usher me backstage with my VIP tickets and tour jacket, and tell me that Jimi wanted to meet me after the show.<br />
<br />
Or they'd call me a bullshitter, because who ever dies in "an unfortunate trapeze incident"? Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-22631073803476853802013-04-30T13:32:00.001-04:002013-04-30T13:32:42.923-04:00Of Things to ComeThe Sound A Doggy Makes is no longer a daily.<br />
<br />
<br />
With the exception of a few sick days which were made up for shortly after I regained conscious wellness, this page has been updated with<i> something</i>, ideally something comedic or amusing, for 1,585 days. That's just over four and a half years, and I figure four and a half is a good time for a kid to realize there's no Santa Claus.<br />
<br />
So it's over. The daily updates, I mean. I took a weekend off and I feel better about it. Most updates have been a chore, and the better posts get buried under a pile of in-jokes and funny license plate photos. Here's a photo of a store I live near:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxw7wwmT4xMYrggsuInBHTfUcg_gUBIUXEBm41qNDoSLpayI2uwPhLgQENk8zOTb-azWRvitj8g22RParDsWQ1BHh1P47wycBdMqVdt9i556z_-OqiierdtOLFp4iuN1Ma4NJtcpEecJI/s1600/f62f0e4a-2797-4e32-92b3-53280afc75d7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxw7wwmT4xMYrggsuInBHTfUcg_gUBIUXEBm41qNDoSLpayI2uwPhLgQENk8zOTb-azWRvitj8g22RParDsWQ1BHh1P47wycBdMqVdt9i556z_-OqiierdtOLFp4iuN1Ma4NJtcpEecJI/s400/f62f0e4a-2797-4e32-92b3-53280afc75d7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click to embiggen.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anything to get that sweet Top-Three listing in the phone book, eh?<br />
<br />
<br />
… That's not a blog post. That's a tweet. An Instagram. At a stretch, a Tumbl. I deserve to be seen as better than that, and you deserve to have better content.<br />
<br />
So now The Sound A Doggy Makes is going to have fresh content <i>when it's damn-well ready and fully baked</i>. Yeah, if I think "Aardvark Insurance" is hilarious, you'll probably get a whif of it on one of my social platforms. If I Photoshop something funny for work and it's a hit, maybe I'll share it here. But this is the last time you're getting <i>"LOOK WHAT I FOUND YOUR GUYS! HURRR!"</i><br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
TLDR:<i> </i>Sound A Doggy Makes is on hiatus while I work on other projects, and will resume more intermittent posting as I create new, worthwhile things that don't fall under their own banners.<br />
<br />
Additionally, the long-term plan is to hopefully start up a new, larger platform that will curate the best material from these last 4.5 years into a more distilled form of awesome, minus the cat pictures and license plates.<br />
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I hope we had fun.<br />
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<i>-Dave</i>Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-77294674952252622332013-04-27T13:35:00.001-04:002013-04-27T19:15:57.169-04:00Honey, I Broke the Physics<br />
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<center>
<a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=13/04/27/1068.jpg"><img border="0" height="264" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/13/04/27/s_1068.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="400" /></a></center>
<br />
I put <i>Honey, I Shrunk the Kids</i> up on the big screen at work today, then spent about 20 minutes re-researching thr fundamental forces of nature to try and work out how Szalinski's shrink ray operates.<br />
<br />
By his own words—either in this film or the first sequel, I forget which—Szalinski states the machine works to reduce the great amount of empty space in what is typically considered "solid" matter.<br />
<br />
To achieve this, the device would have to affective lot lessen the coefficient of the Weak Nuclear Force, which governs the behavior of fermions such as electrons. This would allow them to maintain stable orbits far closer to the nucleus of their atoms, thereby allowing molecular bonds to be formed from atoms functionally "smaller" in so far as each atom would now occupy less volumethan previously.<br />
<br />
Now, Szalinski says nothing of changing any <i>mass</i>, however it is quite clear from the experimental results that weight has been scaled down proportionately with volume of the shrunken subjects, so it can only be that mass too has been affected. This requires that the machine <i>also</i> interact with the Higgs Field in such a way as to shift down the subject's mass as they shrink.<br />
<br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
<br />
1) Altering the coefficients of the fundamental forces is completely impossible and would likely break physics within the space provided, killing anything within, probably horribly.<br />
<br />
2) There isn't actually any "empty space" in an atom to remove. I mean you can't remove a nothing, but the emptiness is really teaming with quantum foam if virtual particles infinitely coming into and out of existence, powering the dark energies and probabilities of the world.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-49716086767828794932013-04-26T00:59:00.000-04:002013-04-26T00:59:27.638-04:00Bieber Fever Leads to Chills, Mania, WithdrawalI <i>almost</i> didn't have a blog ready for today. Then this happened:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/22292464">Drugs Found of Justin Bieber Tour Bus | BBC</a><br />
<br />
Somewhere there's a joke about him and Selena Gomez writhing on the floor of the bus, pupils dilated and the <i>Requiem for a Dream</i> soundtrack playing in the background, autotuned for some reason, but, you know what?<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
No, Justin Bieber is about to hit the "Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman" stage in his little career, and all I have to do to laugh is sit back and wait for him to start lifting weights and try to star in a movie like Mark Wahlberg, because this train wreck is about to get good.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-42552489701026714782013-04-25T00:36:00.000-04:002013-04-25T00:36:42.926-04:00On Overreacting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNxYDcYcHM9rpFfHdEFoXqBVbI058A6HSsDM5_JDthn6cfVVM10oO__D31SbSQlL_30YWVB4c4r4dhCqVdBrkiG9cIB501lahMVRK34MhV5cVLV429bt0eImW4qu8Pg4A-9G6FeEKUYs/s1600/374e4594-f003-4499-a2c9-bd4b04afebdb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNxYDcYcHM9rpFfHdEFoXqBVbI058A6HSsDM5_JDthn6cfVVM10oO__D31SbSQlL_30YWVB4c4r4dhCqVdBrkiG9cIB501lahMVRK34MhV5cVLV429bt0eImW4qu8Pg4A-9G6FeEKUYs/s640/374e4594-f003-4499-a2c9-bd4b04afebdb.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This is the package of bubbles we are not allowed to sell where I work, because it uses the word "colored."<br />
<br />
Honestly, if this were an issue, I'd be more upset as an African American that white people overreacted and then denied me the purchase of something purple.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-65247430365358535172013-04-24T00:12:00.000-04:002013-04-24T00:12:23.544-04:00A Little Perspective<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG-1rskZQwUHbnuepCrIzcsdq8KBQvLYyvIYjIV5SfjQZglksNiabtLYP1U8J3Ua6J_bhRlX_s5FD634b6zFlkCsPtp1qknhGels-X2meRPIdjUJB_3FI9OyP9myn5inw-sIIWomepek/s1600/EJV+-+Mars22Jul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG-1rskZQwUHbnuepCrIzcsdq8KBQvLYyvIYjIV5SfjQZglksNiabtLYP1U8J3Ua6J_bhRlX_s5FD634b6zFlkCsPtp1qknhGels-X2meRPIdjUJB_3FI9OyP9myn5inw-sIIWomepek/s400/EJV+-+Mars22Jul.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Sometimes I get a a sense of the actual scale of the universe, or buildings, or just really big plants–sometimes I just consider that a worm has a <i>heart</i>–and when I do this, I get a mild panic attack/bout of vertigo. Douglas Adams described a torture device call the Total Perspective Vortex that drives you insane by giving you an exacting display of your insignificance in the universe in a very similar manner.<br />
<br />
The above image has been circling the Internet for several days with varying notes attached to it. It is a still image of the Martian dusk sky taken by the Mars Curiosity rover depicting (from horizon up) Venus, Jupiter, and Earth.<br />
<br />
Recall that the small dot seen here is divided infinitesimally by the microbes scurrying across its surface, warring over imagined slights and invisible markers, hording certain mineral elements and trading them in exchange for other elements with which to hopefully damage other little microbe people.<br />
<br />
And a few of them are hoping to get up off that small dot and visit other small dots and maybe one day not have imagined slights or invisible markers, so they drove a nuclear-fueled RC Power Wheels they shot out of a capsule in a bullet in a cannon to the nearest dot they could find and took this picture to show us the most zoomed-out selfie you'll see all week.<br />
<br />
And here you were watching <i>Dancing with the Stars</i>.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-35406740364325439442013-04-23T00:00:00.000-04:002013-04-23T00:00:13.037-04:00The Diary of Lisa Frank<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXu1ra4WHk0peuaIUYK1h5R1UH7hZoJyMNQm31LGkaAWxmiwS9oBFGxO-YS73RSzb07ZNR26POQfdQ3NyL_c27lFtqHXEzc7c0S5okrx4aKEMPCs60bWaM2JrDlKEUTdZ3ih5-lzgp5X4/s1600/diary+of+lisa+frank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXu1ra4WHk0peuaIUYK1h5R1UH7hZoJyMNQm31LGkaAWxmiwS9oBFGxO-YS73RSzb07ZNR26POQfdQ3NyL_c27lFtqHXEzc7c0S5okrx4aKEMPCs60bWaM2JrDlKEUTdZ3ih5-lzgp5X4/s640/diary+of+lisa+frank.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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When I go to Hell, and they ask me why I think I wound up there, if I can remember no other fun I had while winding down that path, I will show them this. And then I shall waltz into my well-deserved Hell condo and rule over the Plains of Fire as a Discordant Lord.<br />
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Good times.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-30554150658987794662013-04-22T13:37:00.000-04:002013-04-22T13:37:44.628-04:00On Cat Stevens and the Hall of FameThe Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio is kind of horrifically depressing. It's like looking at all the best things about rock that have already died, and then tribute pieces to the still-living pieces who are doing their best to discredit their early innovations with weak attempts at reinvention and re-invigoration [read: "relevance"].<br />
<br />
That said, it's still by far the coolest, most amazing museum a museum can be without those crazy-realistic animatronic raptor costumes. Truthfully, the only down-sides to the R&R HoF are<br />
<br />
1) The coolest exhibits are all dead and you can never rock out with them in person, and<br />
<br />
2) It closes at 5:30 p.m. on Fridays.<br />
<br />
Seriously, what kind of rock and rollers close shop at 5:30? Answer: the kind old enough to be in the Hall but didn't live hard enough to be dead yet. So the B-squad, I guess. (In their defence, wednesdays the Hall is open until 9, so maybe Wednesday night is concert night.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMmpp3RANmzfqr7DRXR1ck3sxq8mo8M0jdvzrvkOLD5aJhqXLxdebWSOBBPi8ERNUrSCwg7N1S3UDniB_4Fts3_vXkFpJIevXhlvGnNmrcYsFdvkip2e3GJ9FSLp15SZ6KiAwHS6S0a0/s1600/Cat+Stevens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMmpp3RANmzfqr7DRXR1ck3sxq8mo8M0jdvzrvkOLD5aJhqXLxdebWSOBBPi8ERNUrSCwg7N1S3UDniB_4Fts3_vXkFpJIevXhlvGnNmrcYsFdvkip2e3GJ9FSLp15SZ6KiAwHS6S0a0/s1600/Cat+Stevens.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Man, I hope this style comes back in fashion soon. I've been failing to rock it for 20 years already.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
Now, Cat Stevens was nominated for entry to the Hall of Fame back in 2006. There is some speculation that he may never be inducted in life simply for fear that he might make some religiously-themed comments in his acceptance speech. This is patently ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Firstly, let's just get tolerance out of the way. Yes, Islam is a touchy subject, politically, but what kind of rock and rollers should give a fuck? None. Also, they wouldn't care I just said, "fuck." Yes, most probably, "Yusuf Islam" would likely say some political, theological bullshit. So do Tom Cruise and Isaac Hayes. We just don't want to hear them say anything they believe in, we just want to hear them do their jobs entertaining us. Big whoop.<br />
<br />
No, the more important thing here is that <i>Cat Stevens</i> should be inducted into the Hall of Fame. <i>Yusuf Islam</i> hasn't had a relevant album, single, or compilation in his entire career. <i>Yusuf Islam</i> has no business being the the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.<br />
<br />
Now, I understand that's like saying Prince is a separate artist from "The Artist Formally Known As Prince," except Stevens wasn't a dispute over contract negotiations. Cat converted religion, changed his name <i>again</i> (he was originally Steven Demetre Georgiou and in fact now goes under the stage name "Ysuf" sans-surname), and for a time wrote only music glorifying the prophet Mohammad and making Islam relevant and accessible to young people.<br />
<br />
<i>Functionally</i>, Cat Stevens and Yusuf Islam are completely different musical artists with separate careers in wildly different decades.<br />
<br />
Honor Cat Stevens with a lifetime achievement award, or a Medal of Honor for services rendered.<br />
<br />
Then give Yusuf a big pat on the back for trying so hard.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-51525200550891681492013-04-21T14:00:00.001-04:002013-04-21T14:00:08.111-04:00A Spectacular Failure<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=13/04/21/1701.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/13/04/21/s_1701.jpg' border='0' width='240' height='320' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br />I just tore my pant leg on a chair. <i>On a padded chair.</i><br /><br />Do you know why we invented chairs? To prevent us from being stung or cut or dirtied by sitting on <i>the ground</i>. What the hell, chair? I'm good to you. I don't get far and sit on you, I brush crumbs off you before and after I sit down, i even saved your sweet looking red relative from the dumpster when my old neighbor moved in and decided to cast it out upon the dumpster. What have I ever done to you to warrant this type of behavior?<br /><br />You got a debt, now, chair. You got a debt and you're gonna fill it. <br />Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-7135050426509159092013-04-20T23:48:00.000-04:002013-10-06T15:54:19.529-04:00Power Girl Regains Her Boob Window<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh643s3mDnun86s4n5M6OhyQovKKU7TD4qb1Ivo-77uZhnTW7MB2WXWOd2IJYphVnoKfBv5a0xPE6-VZzv7fkP_nrzFIPwbTlCryOWOyw_WBGkOjtKqxv2YVXwGrgddxTtcnGO0sIQChQU/s1600/Power+Girl+%252327+-+Page+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh643s3mDnun86s4n5M6OhyQovKKU7TD4qb1Ivo-77uZhnTW7MB2WXWOd2IJYphVnoKfBv5a0xPE6-VZzv7fkP_nrzFIPwbTlCryOWOyw_WBGkOjtKqxv2YVXwGrgddxTtcnGO0sIQChQU/s640/Power+Girl+%252327+-+Page+1.jpg" width="412" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is actually a rather tasteful and less cartoony cover for PG.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
I learned today that DC Comics superheroine and exploited feminine icon in perpetuity Power Girl has this week donned her old costume, complete with a ovular cutout where typically a super's insignia would go. (This happens to showcase her ample cleavage.) I didn't even know she had a new costume. Apparently, it wasn't very long in the running. Best guess, it was from the last "New 52" update after the <i>Flashpoint</i> continuity reset about a year ago.<br />
<br />
Anyway, it's back now, and that got me thinking:<br />
<br />
Did Power Girl have her "can't take you seriously as a crime fighter" F-cups prior to gaining her powers? Of is that just a side-effect of her, er, <i>endowment</i>?<br />
<br />
Actually, yes. It turns out I was confusing Carrol Danvers, a.k.a. Ms. Marvel–a former government agent/spy turned hero after being artificially givern the powers of existing hero Captain Marvel–with Karren Starr/Kara Zor-el, who in main continuity is <i>not</i> the age-accelerated clone of Supergirl as in the animated series like I thought, but rather the actual, older Supergirl from Earth-2, what was explained to be the world of all the "Golden Age" comics.<br />
<br />
So yeah, she had super Kryptonian boobs all along. And Ms. Marvel's rack isn't enormous, so there goes my whole comedic tear-down of yet another reason DC comics craps all over its female characters (and creators, and fans, historically).Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-46369335004115410202013-04-19T11:02:00.001-04:002013-04-19T11:02:04.852-04:00John McClane Where Are You?<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=13/04/19/781.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/13/04/19/s_781.jpg' border='0' width='400' height='320' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />The news today sounds like the plot of the next Die Hard movie.<br /><br />Actually, it sounds like the <i>last</i> Die Hard movie. I imagine this is what it was like to watch the chaos run through the news cycle while Bruce Willis was off being awesome somewhere else.<br /><br />Car chases with explosions, Little brother making it out of a shootout and miraculously avoiding the police? The kin even looks a bit like Justin Long.<br /><br />My bet is Older Bro got in over his head trying to stop some Chechnyan terrorists and now Bruce is trying to get the little kid out alive as a witness.<br /><br />Yippee ki yay, folks.<br />Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-566578073544315492013-04-18T11:53:00.002-04:002013-04-18T11:53:53.054-04:00A Horrifying DiscoveryAt work yesterday I saw on the floor by the entrance what I thought was a black doo-rag. Thinking it something someone might come back for, yet possibly was endowed with gross head sweat, I picked it up by as little of my finger tips as possible and went to place them in the Lost and Found. I recoiled in horror, dropped them to the ground, and probably shrieked a little less than a manly bellow. Immediately I sanitized my fingers, and the rest of my hand to the rist.<br />
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They were underpants.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c0ZjfWU-0ZJxG1bLEK1agn7TN33_oQs-OB31owLejhCQmdlGU1veJEf0LMJ6Q7Tw0keCo0CaIwqNDpXxSr8mFcOdGlJ11mOuMK3AQmeiWd3pdKvzzQmlk6dObZI8YpDn56Txgoco_lA/s1600/tumblr_ma543wUkE11r6048so1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c0ZjfWU-0ZJxG1bLEK1agn7TN33_oQs-OB31owLejhCQmdlGU1veJEf0LMJ6Q7Tw0keCo0CaIwqNDpXxSr8mFcOdGlJ11mOuMK3AQmeiWd3pdKvzzQmlk6dObZI8YpDn56Txgoco_lA/s400/tumblr_ma543wUkE11r6048so1_1280.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>Dirty underpants.</i><br />
<br />
Dirty, feminine, underpants. Inside-out, upside-down, probably size-M basic black women's panties, casually laid out on the floor. And I accidentally touched them.<br />
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The most vile part of this experience is the realization that this only points to something <i>even more disgusting</i> happening elsewhere yesterday, very likely right in my store. Best Case Scenario: some teenagers thought it would be funny to leave one of their sisters' dirty drawers in the entranceway to a public location and then laugh about how "punk" they were. That's <i>Best Case</i>.<br />
<br />
Worst case?<br />
<br />
Something <i>tawdry</i> happened in my very store, possibly in the bathroom, more likely in the corner of reference and computer books next to the kids' department, away from prying eyes. Just a quick finger or two, something to rev the engine without blowing the gasket, so to speak. Something that necessitated the <i>removal</i> of said undergarments and their wadding up into the corner of a pocket, not so well constructed as to hold its contents <i>all the way out of the store</i>.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it was pretty hot for them, but I'm in no mood to have to get a herpes test any time soon, and I would appreciate it if anyone and everyone could refrain from boning royally in the confines of my place of business.<br />
<br />
I don't think James Deen has starred in a Sexy Bookstore porno yet, but if not, any day now.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-6039270777498927762013-04-17T00:53:00.001-04:002013-04-17T00:53:22.160-04:00On SewingAfter sitting in a chair sewing for hours on end, it occurs to me that being a needle and piercing fetishist must make it incredibly difficult to darn one's socks.<br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=13/04/16/2536.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/13/04/16/s_2536.jpg' border='0' width='266' height='400' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2983170650917979636.post-54574852805305173902013-04-16T10:51:00.003-04:002013-04-16T10:51:47.949-04:00The Only Thing I Will Ever Say About What Happened In BostonI will be brief. Opinions abound, and I am loath to the kind of "Our prayers are with you!" Facebook Activism that does no real good.<br />
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To anyone who wants to help: Take a day off from work if at all possible and drive up to Boston to volunteer somewhere. Anywhere. Help. If you can't do that, <a href="http://www.redcross.org/find-help/contact-family/register-safe-listing">please consider donating even $5 to Red Cross</a> or another local charity. (I'm not a fan of Salvation Army's anti-gay policies, but I really don't think they're asking about victim/first responder preferences when offering crisis counseling and free food. Help them out.)<br />
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To Bostonians: I assure you, New Yorkers will continue to hate you and the Red Sox with a burning fervor, but you are our annoying little brother. You are ours to mess with and no one else's. While I don't like it as a response, be assured we are going to help crack some skulls over this.Dave Zuckerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11808641571928299718noreply@blogger.com0