Tuesday August 24, 2010 at 3:58

If you could interview one person, who would it be?



Between episodes of Spartacus: Blood & Sand and during cups of green tea, I spent the latter half of yesterday focused on the concept of musician interviews. I’ve never given an interview to a professional musician before, and I have no idea if an interview I gave would be any good. However, I’ve developed a fairly good idea of what makes a good interview. I think a lot of the interviews I watch are bad, and this is for a number of reasons. Most predominantly, bad interviews involve some degree of uncomfortability. In a Pitchfork Reviews Reviews post from a few weeks ago, the author observes the practice of taking the artist (in this case Nathan Williams) out of an interview space to a more informal setting (in this case it was a green room so they could smoke) which makes them more comfortable, and therefore more genuine with their answers. Often in music reviews I see the author noting that when the mics are switched off, the subject is a completely different person. This is infuriating for the reader, of course, because the conclusion is that the person off the record is more desirable (due to his inaccessibility), and that the reader only gets to see the persona gives the sense of being ripped off. Whether the inclusion of that observation by whoever’s writing the article is detrimental to music journalism isn’t relevant to my point so I’ll leave it up to you to decide (or maybe I’ll say something about it later). 



Chuck Klosterman is a great resource for novice interviewers. Klosterman, whose music journalism, which included some brilliant interviews, was prominent in his rise to recognition, has experienced both sides of celebrity and the interview process, first as author and then as subject. His writing on either side is incredibly illuminating and while Lester Bangs comparisons seem inevitable but essentially meaningless, I regard him as one of the best interviewers I’ve read (I’m open to suggestions on others, though). His most practical advice comes from the second episode in PopMatters’ What’s The Write Word series, where he advises “If an interview subject isn’t responding to your questions, ask them specific queries about their craft (i.e., “How did you tune your guitar to get that specific sound?,” “What is the initial step when writing a pop song?,” etc.)”. 



What makes a good interview though? Some decent fucking questions, to begin with. Making an artist comfortable is a good start, but you have to capitalize on the candor it’s supposed to produce. While I imagine some interviewers feel an obligation to ask “informative” questions, this is a fundamentally useless practice. All that information is already on Wikipedia, the band’s website, and a hundred thousand fan websites. The best interviews I’ve seen/read occur when the interviewer engages the subject as an artist rather than a spokesperson. This reflects on what Chuck Klosterman was saying. Basically, I think any interview where the interviewer avoids asking “What was it like working with so and so?” or “What was it like going back into the studio after nine months of touring?”, because “What was it like…?” is not a question worth hearing the answer to. It’s a question dripping in apathy and disinterest, and inevitably you’ll receive an answer in kind, yet I hear it asked so often. 



There are a lot of celebrities I’d like to know, but not many I’d like to interview. I’d really like to know Charlie Brooker, because he’s an acerbic, witty gentleman with a colossal, self-aggravating appetite for pop culture, but I think his motives and ambitions are fairly plain, so I have no interest in interviewing him.

Who I’d like to interview given the chance and why:

Russell Brand

I’d like to find out how self-aware he is, especially at this stage in his career where I don’t think he can achieve much more success than he already has. I’d like to know whether he’s oblivious to this or not.

Kanye West

Mostly for a discussion about racism and misogyny with regards to the contemporary rap scene, and pop culture in general, and how it’s changed in the past decade.

Kid Cudi

Probably to discuss the emergence of the “blipster” and how indie music is influencing rap.

Wyatt Roy

While politicians are notoriously tight-lipped, and I imagine as a 20-year-old he’s probably quite susceptible to party indoctrination, I’d still like to find out whether he’s a mouthpiece or reflective of new ideas entering a stringently conservative party. 

Christopher Price

Expose on the man behind the googly eyes.

Monday August 23, 2010 at 0:53

I’m Always Lazy When I Miss You



I had a dream last night that I asked this girl to be my girlfriend and she said yes, high school style. None of this courting bullshit, none of the uncertainty, just blissful sincerity. I think that might’ve been my favourite part of my formative years. You like her, she likes you, perfect. You sneak glances at each other through the chain link fence from across the playground while playing four square with your boys, and then after school you walk each other home. You make out down by the creek behind her house. You get The Scorpion King on DVD but don’t actually watch it while it’s on. Then you’d break up because you’d throw too many balls at her in dodgeball.  True story.

There’s this one line on Best Coast’s “Crazy For You” that goes “I’m always lazy when I miss you” which resonated with me. When you break up with someone, people will always tell you to move on by fucking a bunch of women. And that works! But why it works is because it’s supposed to distract you from the person you’re obsessing over. One of the truest things I’ve found in my search for a formula for getting over people is that you have to distract yourself. The sooner you realise this, the sooner you’ll learn to adjust to life without them. And the happier you’ll be! 

Until you’re listening to Katy Perry’s “E.T.” and realise it sounds similar to t.A.T.u.’s 2000 hit “All The Things She Said” so you watch the video clip and think “Wow, Lena is kinda hot” and then realise she has exactly the same hair as the girl you’re trying to get over. And then you watch the music video like six more times. Thank God It’s Monday.

Sunday August 22, 2010 at 2:27

Teenangst Dreams.



Man, it’s fucking useless asking your friends for an opinion on something that isn’t distanced from you. The people I know just have no standards for what I’m doing, so there’s this really pernicious cult of affirmation that just makes me fucking hate everyone for being liars. And it’s motivated by selfishness. Consciously they might find it altruistic, forgoing their principles in an attempt to make someone they like happy, but subconsciously, they’re just doing it because if you react poorly to criticism, you won’t like them anymore. These fucking Yes People and their fiction. You guys!

 


And this is what the New Niceness has done, eviscerated any inclination someone might have towards critical thinking lest it piss someone off. So you can immediately disqualify all the people that like you if you’re trying to find real talk. This leaves all the people who fucking hate you, and they’re not going to talk to you for long enough for you to get across the fact that you’re just looking for an opinion. All of this leaves me in the position of just throwing shit out there and hoping it’ll pull them out of the woodwork, but invariably any potential critics are so sick of me they can’t be bothered stringing together sentences about how I’m the bane of their existence when they could just be making a sandwich or cruising Facebook or any of the many more productive things you could be doing than talking about me on the Internet.



I’ve always held the belief that a good friend will tell you what you want to hear, but a real friend will tell you what you need to hear. Just once (twice, three times max) I’d like to hear where I’m fucking up.

Tuesday August 17, 2010 at 17:02

True Blood.



Okay, so, True Blood. What is this I don’t even. I tried watching the episode with a blank slate, for Jillian, but it wasn’t easy. I skipped most of the Sookie & Bill scenes, because they’re such dialtones (it’s all “Sookehhhh” and “Gee willikers, I sure am clueless about everything! Zippity dee!”) and I have no interest in their relationship. Eric & Pam more than made up for it, though. God I love Eric. We can all agree he’s the best one on the show, yeah? Though Russell is making a convincing argument.



And what’s up with Franklin? At first I was like “Oh, this is a metaphor for Tara overcoming her guilt and shame” but then he was actually, physically there… only to be blown apart a minute later.



The show is walking a fine line between showing the human drama and the supernatural drama, but with the ramping up of the vampire crazy lately, the situations with Sam & Tommy, Arlene & Terry and Jason & Crystal Meth have become so mundane. I especially hate Jason & Crystal, because I realise Jason is dumb as fuck, but surely even he can recognise that this girl is playing him. Season One Jason would’ve walked away from that.



As for Hoyt & Jessica/Muppet, I don’t even know. Jessica’s a babe, though, so I guess I don’t mind that much.



The main issue I have with the show in its present form is how splintered it’s become, so much so that maybe the writers are overextending themselves and should pull back a bit. Just get rid of all the human characters. I did some reading about where this is all heading on Wikipedia, and it gets even more bizarre, but nothing ever happens with the humans. And please, whatever you do, writers, don’t kill off Eric Northman.

Monday August 16, 2010 at 22:40

The 7pm Project



At the live taping of The 7pm Project tonight, Tim asked me why I was there, because I was being such a little bitch/smart ass. Fair question with a simple answer: I love TV and live tapings are always fun, so I couldn’t pass it up. The fact that it was at Channel 10, the worst station in the country, and it was a taping of The 7pm Project, the worst newstainment program in the world, were minute details. I was just there to enjoy the experience.

However, as I do go on about how much I loathe the show, I’m going to articulate exactly why. Just to clarify.

  • Some of the quips are painfully obnoxious.
  • They don’t treat their guests respectfully. Often they get really intelligent people on, and reduce their presence by riffing on everything they say.
  • They dedicate very little time to serious world issues, often giving only a cursory impression of the points without making any real commentary.
  • George Negus is just a crotchety counter-point. I think he’s quite clever, but sometimes I feel like the hosts patronise him. Not always without reason, some of the statements he makes on the show are poorly thought-out for how definitively he says them, but if he’s just there to lend some authority, don’t just smile and humour him.


It was a good experience, though. It certainly helped humanise Charlie Pickering for me, so I’ve softened on him a bit, though he does seem to take himself quite seriously. There was also this moment when they were filming a promo, and Carrie Bickmore said “Now we need something funny” and they crash-zoomed on Dave Hughes, which was pretty amusing, and a defining statement about his role on the show. He contributes the jokes, and in fact it’s a little bit sad, I think, that his role’s been reduced to setting up a joke and using a soundbite as the punch line. I miss Glass House. Everything old is better.

Lastly, I have to apologise to KB, the warm-up comedian. It’s a tough job being a comedian at all, let alone one who has to warm up a crowd for an extremely popular television show. When I asked him “What’re your career aspirations?” I didn’t mean to come off as snarky. Plenty of warm-up comedians go on to do their own brilliant creations, so I was just curious as to what else he was up to, but I realise assuming his goal in life wasn’t to be a warm-up comedian was demeaning, and I genuinely feel terrible about it. He seemed like a nice guy! Sorry, KB. <3

Sunday August 15, 2010 at 6:01

Jersey Shore.



This week’s Jersey Shore was my favourite episode of the series yet. There was minimal drama, everyone stopped hating Angelina, and Snooki was on fire. I think this might be contrary to the aims of the producers, but the only time I really love this show is when everybody’s getting along. I don’t like the bitterness! This is not a show I watch to hate people (come on, that’s what Glee is for), and I don’t want to find reasons to stop liking the Shore cast. I was saying this to my girl J.Crow the other day, I think the reason I like the show so much is because I know people who’re terrifyingly similar to the people on the show. And they all went to private schools.

If I had to pick a favourite, it’d probably be Vinny. He’s sensitive, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him whinge, and he has a good moral center. He reminds me of the friends I’ve had that I always wished I was strong enough to be, the ones who’d really look out for and take care of people (me) at parties. My least favourite is JWoww, because she’s too aggressive and reminds me of this girl I once hooked up with. At this point we’ve seen every part of her, except for her heart. Ronnie and Sammi are tied for second least-likeable. Their plot is so isolated from the rest of the show it feels almost like a spin-off. But not a good spin-off, like Frasier or Boston Legal (pre-fifth season). More like Joey. Ronnie and Sammi are the Joey of Jersey Shore. Imagine the show without them there anymore. Nothing would change. I’m so certain of this I’m almost tempted to edit their scenes out of the latest episode, but I’m not quite bored enough yet.

The only thing that harms my enjoyment are the contrivances, like the Shirt Before The Shirt scene from last week. It felt exactly like what it was: exposition. Is there any doubt he was saying that to anyone but the audience? The only other people in the room were the co-creators of this phenomenon, they don’t need it explained! While I love hearing The Situation and his cadre espousing their philosophies (“The Guido is the modern day Dandy”, discuss) but the delivery felt so fake. It’s like WWE when you were still young enough to enjoy it but just starting to realise it was fake. You tried to walk that precarious line between immersing yourself in the experience, but also looking out for the tricks. This is exactly what ruined magic.

Sunday July 04, 2010 at 14:57

IN DEFENCE OF HIPSTER SENSIBILITIES.



Over the past year, several people I know have referred to me as “high culture”. This has brought me to the following conclusion: The people I know don’t know a fucking thing about me. For example, I was at a party the other night on a soap box regarding Twilight, and while most of my impromptu audience was captivated (as they sought to have their pre-conceived beliefs about how terrible it is justified), one dissenting listener rolled his eyes. “Of course you hate it. You, like, hate everything popular.”

Huh.

Twilight is an amalgam of ill-conceived notions of romance, dangerous ideas about gender roles, and pandering messages about good vs evil wrapped in a technically unambitious production. That’s why I don’t like it. I understand that a lot of people are following a herd mentality, and I’m sure to some extent I am as well. It’s easier to find problems with something when a hundred million other people are pointing them out, and the rest of the audience is too young to properly articulate why I should like it. However, whereas I’ve heard quite a few people say “Why don’t I like Twilight? I don’t know, because it’s shit?”, I have pretty specific objections.



There are great reasons to hate popular things. Formulaic, design-by-committee, focus-group-tested-until-all-uniqueness-has-been-homogenized-for-the-mass-market products that are created with the sole intent of making money are the tide of shit beating at our ivory tower (I only say that with half a tongue in my cheek), but I don’t exclude the possibility of “good” and “popular” not being mutually exclusive. Doctor Who: Addicted. Lost: Dedicated countless hours to debate over the Time Loop Theory. Community, 30 Rock, Arrested Development, Harry Potter books, Lady Gaga, Halo, and alcohol. These are all examples of popular things that I think are good, however they’re also examples of some of my favorite things to deconstruct and criticize. Of course they are, these are things I know a lot about, and therefore feel qualified to have an opinion on. In this way, I actually love the things I hate, and the things I hate are the things I feel indifferent about.

Tuesday June 29, 2010 at 11:59

HARRY POTTER & THE DEATHLY HALLOWS (Trailer).


The trailer is finally out.
“Complete the journey in 3D”. The sixth movie was also in 3D. The first six minutes, anyway. Then you had to remove the glasses if you wanted to watch the movie.




I’m sorry, childhood. We’ll always have the books. This trailer makes Deathly Hallows look about as disappointing as trying to make a toasted cheese sandwich and finding out you only have wholegrain bread. Ralph Fiennes delivers his lines with this raspy melodrama that makes him seem simultaneously on the verge of tears and in desperate need of Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Cough Drops. What is it about this franchise that makes talented adult actors into high school drama students? It was a good decision on their part to include themselves in this license to print platinum cards, but the day anybody utters the phrase “Due to his or her critically-praised performance in the Harry Potter series…” is the day I shoot myself in the fucking neck. Though the blame can’t be put squarely on the shoulders of adults, the kids are shitty, too. Emma Watson has two expressions: Furrowed brow and blank stare. But that’s nothing compared to the talent of Daniel Radcliffe, who’s reduced the portrayal of every emotion to a single look: A snarly half-smirk. Angry at Voldemort? Snarly half-smirk. Depressed about his parents death? Snarly half-smirk. Dismayed at his own magical incompetence? Snarly half-smirk. What’s worse is that half the time he’s also huffing and puffing, as if the stress of having too much Charms homework has induced a nasty bout of asthma. The best part of Half-Blood Prince was when he imitated a spider, simply because it was so shocking he could do something other than look frustrated and angsty.



I remember sitting in an aisle seat as I watched The Philosopher’s Stone with my parents, brimming with such excitement that I was narrating the plot as it happened on screen (being told to shut the fuck up by almost everyone around me. I was ten (still waiting for that Hogwarts letter!)). Ever since then, I’ve watched with increasing despair at how poorly they’ve transcribed the story onto film. And perhaps anybody who holds source material too closely to their hearts runs that risk of despair, but then, I can’t help think of Watchmen. Zak Snyder put such painstaking detail into its adaptation, with minor embellishments made for clarity’s sake (though the changing of the end was a little disappointing, it still worked). Is it so fucking difficult to do the same thing for the most prized series of books in recent cultural history?



PS: The connecting-wands thing is really fucking annoying. It happens exactly once in the books. Both Harry and Voldemort have different wands at the conclusion of Deathly Hallows. There is no (internally) logical reason for this to happen again and again, other than the money you save on having two actors stand perfectly in place with pained expressions rather than a dynamic magic battle.

Friday June 25, 2010 at 23:28

DOCTOR WHO: SPECULATION ON THE FINALE.





With “The Big Bang” airing in a matter of hours, this could all be proven horrendously incorrect, the ramblings of an idiot with too much time. Or it could be proven highly accurate, the ramblings of an idiot with too much time. Either way, let’s have some fun.



Amy’s house:
Where it all began, in “The Pandorica Opens” The Doctor reminds Amy that her house has too many rooms. A seemingly innocuous statement, it might suggest the reason the Doctor took Amy was because she was in a big, lonely house all by herself, but it should be taken more literally.

Read More

Friday June 11, 2010 at 8:23

THE LOSERS (2010).

THE LOSERS MADE ME WANT TO SHOOT WARM JETS OF MAN-FOAM ALL OVER THE CINEMA!



This is a film which not only begs for but requires hyperbole in its description. In what’s shaping up to be a year of Guy Films, The Losers is making a compelling argument for a return to ass-kicking, balls-to-the-wall fun. We’ve been inundated with too many movies that require us to think and reflect on our lives, our families, and all that bullshit. How many of you watched The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button and wished for more guns? If you’re anything like me (which you should be striving for), all of you.



All you need to know about this is that John Winchester leads a team comprised of Stringer Bell, The Human Torch, Darius Hawthorne and Silent Foreign Guy who’re burned by their government and just want their old lives back. Backstory? Fuck it in the ass. Character development? Useless. These are some hard-ass motherfuckers that demand satisfaction. They demand it with guns pointed at your face. You’ve seen the A-Team trailers, right? They fly a tank. Big fucking deal. The Losers extract twenty-five child captives from a remote Bolivian stronghold in four minutes before it’s blown to cocks by missiles from The United States of Awesome. Fuck you, jungle warlords, EAT ROCKETDICK.



Look, nobody gives a shit about plot. The most post-modern thing you can do these days is be all like “Plot? How about GUNS? Hmm? How about… fucking… how about fucking IMPROVISED ROCKET LAUNCHERS?” This is prize-winning cinema. Is there a scene where someone says “I’m like the black MacGuyver! BlacGuyver!”? You bet your stolen military helicopter there is, bub. But the best reason to see this masterpiece, this 103 minute film making class, is Jeffrey Dean Morgan in a suit. Motherfucker rocks the besuited-hobo look, a look you’ll be seeing a lot more of thanks to the global economic crisis (thanks Madoff! (Relevant reference!)) and has stubble like God sprinkled his crystalline salt and pepper shakers over a face carved by Michelangelo after eight Bacardi Breezers. It only gets better when he puts on leather gloves and comes out of an armored van firing an uzi in each hand. He then proceeds to kill a metric fuckton of dudes (legitimacy of that unit of measurement is still pending) and also bangs Zoe Saldana, like, twice. This is a key scene in the film, giving hope to all aspiring action hero males in the audience. If a schlub like JDM (he deserves his own acronym) can get Neytiri, then maybe I could too? Or maybe she was only attracted to the way he fired guns. In that case, SIGN ME UP FOR MORE GUNS!



However, to assume the film lacks depth is naive. The absolute virility is balanced out by an incredibly complex emotional narrative involving the families of The Losers, one of whose wives is pregnant. In their last mission, he gets shot straight through both legs. But it’s okay! He’s so badass, he’s up and running around like five minutes later. This is what you have to take away from the film: When the going gets tough, the tough get super-fast healing, because seeing one of the protagonists rolling around in a wheelchair during the climactic shootout would make for really shitty cinema. And, as hopefully I’ve demonstrated, really shitty cinema is exactly what this film is not.

Saturday May 15, 2010 at 11:03

Glee.



Let’s not dance around the subject, the average episode of Glee is 42 minutes of utter shit. Starring Jane Lynch, the dumb one from Epic Movie, and a group of competent singers-but-not-actors, the show follows the pricks and pariahs of Stereotype High’s glee club. If the title of LOST describes how its viewers feel, this show is its antithesis, as instead of glee all I felt was furious outrage at the popularity of the fucking program.



In the episode I watched, the politically correct (gotta hit them demos!) glee club mourns the loss of their star singer Rachel, who judging by her bafflement at bowling is probably mentally retarded, and despairs at their future. Without Rachel, they won’t make it to Nationals! Or whatever! Copy and paste the synopsis of Bring It On here. In order to remedy the situation, human cartoon character Mr. Schue tries to recruit alcoholic MILF April Rhodes. Apparently all she needs is three credits to earn her GED, so The Schue promises to pass her in his Spanish class if she sings for the glee club. Instead she turns the gay kid into a drunk, bangs two to four football players at once, and vomits on the shoes of the lovely Jayma Mays, who literally couldn’t be cuter. Her transformation from protagonist-with-everyones-hopes-in-her-hands to antagonist is supposed to be a twist of some gravity, but it happens so quickly and so soon after her introduction that it just feels like the show has no idea what she’s supposed to be (other than a waste of everybody’s time, as her presence was absolutely ineffectual and changed nothing in the end). Then in the climax, when Rachel returns and sings her heart out, they ruin Queen. Can we put a moratorium on certain songs? Basically every song covered on Glee has been an incredible classic far too worthy of the children in glee club. I mean, Queen? Really? Don’t even try.



Finn is so boring to watch he makes Keanu Reeves look like Neil Patrick Harris, Puck is a complete asshole and a thug in contradiction with his name, the gay kid is such a parody he’d probably get along really well with Fancy Pants from School of Rock, and the Asian kid DEFINITELY DOESN’T FUCKING STUTTER. However, the show’s single redeeming quality is acting juggernaut and HBIC Jane Lynch, as cheer coach Sue Sylvester, whose constant attempts to undermine the glee club delivered in a sinister drawl provide some of the greatest moments of recent television.



The cringing this show induces is highly evocative of every high school production I’ve ever watched, and I’d love to credit the writers for cultivating that feel as a really clever meta joke, but I’m pretty sure it’s just bad, melodramatic acting. Also I think if you removed the screwball score that juxtaposes the scheming and plotting, you’d be left with something that is genuinely evil. Schue’s wife is drugging the kids at the school and trying to steal the head cheerleader’s daughter. WHAT THE FUCK? Glee is such a mess of ridiculous circumstances, one-dimensional characters and awful covers of legendary songs. But at least Jane Lynch looks great, so here’s to a lasting career in comedy!





Friday March 05, 2010 at 9:33

Lol Aboard The Good Ship AlbionI’m not sure if you guys are aware, but people from the UK tend to produce some pretty shitty television shows. The grand exception is in the genre of comedy. Ever since Flying Circus, the Brits have been on the cutting edge of laugh-out-loud-hilarious comedy. As a citizen of the Empire herself, I asked internet friend, comedian, and dispensary of awesome Avery Edison to suggest the names of some of her favsies shows. I’m going to share that list here, and I COMMAND YOU TO READ IT:This Morning With Richard Not JudyFist of FunBlack BooksSpacedStewart Lee&#8217;s Comedy VehiclePeople Like UsBig TrainBrassEyeThe Day TodayAnything Alan PartridgeThe Armando Ianucci ShowThe Thick of ItPeep Show/The Mitchell and Webb LookLook Around YouGarth Marenghi&#8217;s DarkplaceThe Adam and Joe ShowThe League of GentlemenThe Fast ShowNot the Nine O&#8217;clock NewsI’ll personally add the following:The Peter Serafinowicz ShowNathan BarleyFMNo HeroicsThe Kevin Bishop ShowSnuff BoxThe Mighty BooshThe IT CrowdMassiveHow Not To Live Your LifeHonestly I wouldn’t expect (m)any of you to have the sense to find and devour these shows, but if you do wander into a moment of lucidity, do yourself a favour. Especially the ones with Matt Berry, because he has a voice that’s like a barrel of Bailey’s on a cool Summer’s eve. It’s ten times the voice of Morgan Freeman. There, I said it.

Lol Aboard The Good Ship Albion

I’m not sure if you guys are aware, but people from the UK tend to produce some pretty shitty television shows. The grand exception is in the genre of comedy. Ever since Flying Circus, the Brits have been on the cutting edge of laugh-out-loud-hilarious comedy. As a citizen of the Empire herself, I asked internet friend, comedian, and dispensary of awesome Avery Edison to suggest the names of some of her favsies shows. I’m going to share that list here, and I COMMAND YOU TO READ IT:

This Morning With Richard Not Judy
Fist of Fun
Black Books
Spaced
Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle
People Like Us
Big Train
BrassEye
The Day Today
Anything Alan Partridge
The Armando Ianucci Show
The Thick of It
Peep Show/The Mitchell and Webb Look
Look Around You
Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace
The Adam and Joe Show
The League of Gentlemen
The Fast Show
Not the Nine O’clock News

I’ll personally add the following:

The Peter Serafinowicz Show
Nathan Barley
FM
No Heroics
The Kevin Bishop Show
Snuff Box
The Mighty Boosh
The IT Crowd
Massive
How Not To Live Your Life

Honestly I wouldn’t expect (m)any of you to have the sense to find and devour these shows, but if you do wander into a moment of lucidity, do yourself a favour. Especially the ones with Matt Berry, because he has a voice that’s like a barrel of Bailey’s on a cool Summer’s eve. It’s ten times the voice of Morgan Freeman. There, I said it.

Monday February 22, 2010 at 9:02

I. Am. Eating. It.Chuck Klosterman once echoed the sentiment that it’s much more difficult to write about why you like something than writing about why you hate it. As I’m clearly very familiar with writing about things I hate, I’ve found it very difficult to write a compelling essay about how much I like Aaron Sorkin’s meta-drama Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Studio 60 launched at the same time as 30 Rock, without the backing of NBC nor Lorne Michaels. On the back foot from the start, Aaron Sorkin did his best to present interesting characters against the backdrop of a late-night sketch comedy show. Though Studio 60 and its rival bore a similar premise, the similarities were quite superficial. One was a screwball comedy, and the other tried and succeeded to strike a chord by exploring the tension and relationships of sketch comedians. As the underdog, it was not without its detractors, and earlier today, Avery clarified for me her stance on the show with some specific critique. I’ll now reduce her articulate comments to make her argument seem less coherent, and more like the ramblings of a complete psychopath because she doesn’t like the same cancelled television shows as me!

The sketches in the show-within-a-show are not funny. At all.

I don’t disagree, but I think there’s a purpose. The boorish, blunt humour in the sketches is very evocative of modern-day Saturday Night Live, which has evaded hilarity quite skillfully for some time. The best you can hope for in SNL is an idea that’s clever rather than funny, and even then you have to wade through copious amounts of attempted comedy. I’m trying not to insult your intelligence by being trite and arguing that every fault the show has could be passed off as a commentary on the current state of comedy, but this fault, at least, is. I know because I get the same feeling from watching Studio 60’s sketches as I do watching SNL sketches: I know this is intended to be funny, I should be laughing, I just feel empty inside.

Danny Tripp is a crazy stalker. He should be fired. Aaron Sorkin hates women.

The basis for Danny’s character comes from the fact that he’s really, deeply flawed, something all of the people around him are aware of. What makes him interesting is (other than the snappy dialogue) the fact that he’s a complete loser, yet he has to deal with being in love with his boss, becoming a father, and running one of the most famous television shows in the world, a struggle perhaps exemplified best by this exchange:Danny Tripp: You need to trust me on this. Matt Albie: You are? Danny Tripp: Twice divorced Matt Albie: And you have? Danny Tripp: No one special in my life Matt Albie: And you haven&#8217;t for? Danny Tripp: Quite some time

The racist shit between Simon Stiles and Darius the New Guy. We&#8217;re meant to be on Simon&#8217;s side, despite the fact that&#8217;s he&#8217;s being incredibly offensive in making Darius&#8217; entire identity about that fact that he&#8217;s a black guy

I always felt like we were supposed to oppose Simon, actually. It seemed like the show was deliberately making him seem like an entitled prick at every turn, that because he’d made his way out of the hood he felt like he deserved to be assigned importance, despite his level of talent (or lack thereof, he can’t even do the voices). It’s pretty clear that Simon has a serious problem with race, as we see in “The Wrap Party” where he talks to Matt about hiring a black writer. It’s not that he doesn’t think Matt can write for black guys, it’s just about having a black writer on the staff. The overwhelming attitude of the staff has nothing to do with race, though, and Darius certainly transcends stereotypes (though between Darius and 30 Rock’s Toofer, maybe it’s a stereotype unto itself). While I fucking love 30 Rock (I have some problems with it that I might elaborate on at some point), Studio 60 will always be the more important show to me. “Everyone shut up, shut up Lutz” and “Cranston, why are you crying” are hilarious, but are swept aside by countless bites of witty banter between Danny and Matt, dialogue I still quote, to confused looks, years after its cancellation. I like the way the characters discuss real world issues, it’s believable to me because that’s how intelligent people converse, about important things, especially when those people work on a show that’s job is to parody and highlight those issues. I like that the characters feel like real people. I like that Matthew Perry was on TV again. And I like that the show is like its characters: Faulted, flawed, but nevertheless, brilliant. You need to trust me on this.

I. Am. Eating. It.

Chuck Klosterman once echoed the sentiment that it’s much more difficult to write about why you like something than writing about why you hate it. As I’m clearly very familiar with writing about things I hate, I’ve found it very difficult to write a compelling essay about how much I like Aaron Sorkin’s meta-drama Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Studio 60 launched at the same time as 30 Rock, without the backing of NBC nor Lorne Michaels. On the back foot from the start, Aaron Sorkin did his best to present interesting characters against the backdrop of a late-night sketch comedy show. Though Studio 60 and its rival bore a similar premise, the similarities were quite superficial. One was a screwball comedy, and the other tried and succeeded to strike a chord by exploring the tension and relationships of sketch comedians. As the underdog, it was not without its detractors, and earlier today, Avery clarified for me her stance on the show with some specific critique. I’ll now reduce her articulate comments to make her argument seem less coherent, and more like the ramblings of a complete psychopath because she doesn’t like the same cancelled television shows as me!

  • The sketches in the show-within-a-show are not funny. At all.


I don’t disagree, but I think there’s a purpose. The boorish, blunt humour in the sketches is very evocative of modern-day Saturday Night Live, which has evaded hilarity quite skillfully for some time. The best you can hope for in SNL is an idea that’s clever rather than funny, and even then you have to wade through copious amounts of attempted comedy. I’m trying not to insult your intelligence by being trite and arguing that every fault the show has could be passed off as a commentary on the current state of comedy, but this fault, at least, is. I know because I get the same feeling from watching Studio 60’s sketches as I do watching SNL sketches: I know this is intended to be funny, I should be laughing, I just feel empty inside.

  • Danny Tripp is a crazy stalker. He should be fired. Aaron Sorkin hates women.


The basis for Danny’s character comes from the fact that he’s really, deeply flawed, something all of the people around him are aware of. What makes him interesting is (other than the snappy dialogue) the fact that he’s a complete loser, yet he has to deal with being in love with his boss, becoming a father, and running one of the most famous television shows in the world, a struggle perhaps exemplified best by this exchange:

Danny Tripp: You need to trust me on this.
Matt Albie: You are?
Danny Tripp: Twice divorced
Matt Albie: And you have?
Danny Tripp: No one special in my life
Matt Albie: And you haven’t for?
Danny Tripp: Quite some time

  • The racist shit between Simon Stiles and Darius the New Guy. We’re meant to be on Simon’s side, despite the fact that’s he’s being incredibly offensive in making Darius’ entire identity about that fact that he’s a black guy


I always felt like we were supposed to oppose Simon, actually. It seemed like the show was deliberately making him seem like an entitled prick at every turn, that because he’d made his way out of the hood he felt like he deserved to be assigned importance, despite his level of talent (or lack thereof, he can’t even do the voices). It’s pretty clear that Simon has a serious problem with race, as we see in “The Wrap Party” where he talks to Matt about hiring a black writer. It’s not that he doesn’t think Matt can write for black guys, it’s just about having a black writer on the staff. The overwhelming attitude of the staff has nothing to do with race, though, and Darius certainly transcends stereotypes (though between Darius and 30 Rock’s Toofer, maybe it’s a stereotype unto itself).

While I fucking love 30 Rock (I have some problems with it that I might elaborate on at some point), Studio 60 will always be the more important show to me. “Everyone shut up, shut up Lutz” and “Cranston, why are you crying” are hilarious, but are swept aside by countless bites of witty banter between Danny and Matt, dialogue I still quote, to confused looks, years after its cancellation. I like the way the characters discuss real world issues, it’s believable to me because that’s how intelligent people converse, about important things, especially when those people work on a show that’s job is to parody and highlight those issues. I like that the characters feel like real people. I like that Matthew Perry was on TV again. And I like that the show is like its characters: Faulted, flawed, but nevertheless, brilliant. You need to trust me on this.

Monday January 25, 2010 at 13:40

PatriotismI believe respect should be earned, and Australian culture has done nothing to earn my respect. I consider myself very lucky that I inhabit a country with such excellent living conditions, but I’ve never felt a particular affiliation to Australia. The ads on TV that use terminology like “Un-Australian” disgust me, and some of the views considered “Australian” are those of intolerance. I’m not a vegetarian, but I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard vegetarians, for example, mocked as unpatriotic over the past couple weeks in the lead up to Australia Day. That disappoints me. When I see what it means to be Australian, all I feel is shame that I might be associated with these people by the international community. Footage on the news showing people gearing up for Australia Day, who scream and shout at the camera, poking their tongues out as far as possible, acting like animals, makes me afraid that what it means to be Australian is to be a complete moron. I’ve become so jaded to the news stories about cars full of kids being killed by drunk driving, because binge drinking is such an ingrained part of our national identity that it happens so often. We’re one of the most multicultural countries on the planet, and yet atrocities like the Cronulla riots still occur, crimes committed by people who considered themselves true blue Aussies represented by their donning of Australian flag capes, like racist vigilantes. The most patriotic Australians that I’ve met slur their words, make homophobic jokes, and are unnecessarily aggressive, like beasts. If that is what it is to be Australian, I’m not interested.There are no enviable traits of Australianism. It’s basically analogous to the redneck culture of Midwestern America, one of the most disliked groups in the Western world, and yet we celebrate it. Celebrate? Australianism deserves to be mocked and parodied mercilessly for promoting unity through stupidity.Some final food for thought: Asking friends what they thought it meant to be Australian, two predominant answers emerged.

In an ideal world, our multiculturalism would lead to a greater level of acceptance of other cultures, but the reverse seems to have occurred.


Our country is young, and therefore our culture lacks the depth of much older nations.

Perhaps that second point is worth considering. Maybe in another century, our culture will have refined itself to a unique identity on par with the excellence already found here, albeit in rare quantities. Unfortunately, as it stands, we are all just a bunch of rampaging alcoholic barbarians. See you at the barbecue.
(See Niki&#8217;s post for further first-hand disillusionment)

Patriotism

I believe respect should be earned, and Australian culture has done nothing to earn my respect. I consider myself very lucky that I inhabit a country with such excellent living conditions, but I’ve never felt a particular affiliation to Australia. The ads on TV that use terminology like “Un-Australian” disgust me, and some of the views considered “Australian” are those of intolerance. I’m not a vegetarian, but I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard vegetarians, for example, mocked as unpatriotic over the past couple weeks in the lead up to Australia Day. That disappoints me.

When I see what it means to be Australian, all I feel is shame that I might be associated with these people by the international community. Footage on the news showing people gearing up for Australia Day, who scream and shout at the camera, poking their tongues out as far as possible, acting like animals, makes me afraid that what it means to be Australian is to be a complete moron. I’ve become so jaded to the news stories about cars full of kids being killed by drunk driving, because binge drinking is such an ingrained part of our national identity that it happens so often. We’re one of the most multicultural countries on the planet, and yet atrocities like the Cronulla riots still occur, crimes committed by people who considered themselves true blue Aussies represented by their donning of Australian flag capes, like racist vigilantes. The most patriotic Australians that I’ve met slur their words, make homophobic jokes, and are unnecessarily aggressive, like beasts. If that is what it is to be Australian, I’m not interested.

There are no enviable traits of Australianism. It’s basically analogous to the redneck culture of Midwestern America, one of the most disliked groups in the Western world, and yet we celebrate it. Celebrate? Australianism deserves to be mocked and parodied mercilessly for promoting unity through stupidity.

Some final food for thought: Asking friends what they thought it meant to be Australian, two predominant answers emerged.

  • In an ideal world, our multiculturalism would lead to a greater level of acceptance of other cultures, but the reverse seems to have occurred.
  • Our country is young, and therefore our culture lacks the depth of much older nations.

Perhaps that second point is worth considering. Maybe in another century, our culture will have refined itself to a unique identity on par with the excellence already found here, albeit in rare quantities. Unfortunately, as it stands, we are all just a bunch of rampaging alcoholic barbarians. See you at the barbecue.

(See Niki’s post for further first-hand disillusionment)

Friday January 22, 2010 at 8:00

Sexy AddictionAfter reading Russell Brand’s autobiography, I’ve been thinking a lot about sex addiction. Ever since I heard the term years ago, I’ve never questioned its legitimacy, but recently I’ve found that a lot of people, including sexologists, are skeptical about its existence. This evening I was occupying my time with the anti-intellectual crusaders that are the hosts of The 7PM Project when they broached this very subject. The show’s “resident medico”, slang for pretend doctor apparently, stated that sex addiction was not real. Why?In defending the existence of his own sexy disorder, Brand defines an addiction thusly: 
“[It] is a compulsive behaviour that you cannot control or relinquish, in spite of its destructive consequences”

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (or DSM-IV, the psychologists bible), that is not an incorrect definition, though it is narrow. However, many believe that the behaviour Brand refers to is actually a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder and refer to it as “sexual compulsivity”. In rebuttal, Patrick Carnes, a doctor from Mississippi, adapted the DSM-IV criteria for substance dependence to demonstrate the plausibility of sex addiction. Looking at the criteria, the main difference between the arguments for addiction and those for obsessive-compulsive disorder is the need to increase the intensity of the behaviour to achieve the desired effect. Therefore it seems logical that there are sufferers of either. I think our understanding, or at least our beliefs, of addiction are incredibly narrow if they can only be applied to drugs and alcohol. Why stop there? Why can’t people be addicted to sex? In what way is it different to drug addiction? These are not rhetorical questions, my friends, and I’d very much like to hear other opinions.
Because if somebody doesn&#8217;t validate sex addiction soon, I&#8217;m gonna have real problems to deal with.
UPDATE: This anonymous post on Deadspin from a sex addict is pretty interesting.

Sexy Addiction

After reading Russell Brand’s autobiography, I’ve been thinking a lot about sex addiction. Ever since I heard the term years ago, I’ve never questioned its legitimacy, but recently I’ve found that a lot of people, including sexologists, are skeptical about its existence. This evening I was occupying my time with the anti-intellectual crusaders that are the hosts of The 7PM Project when they broached this very subject. The show’s “resident medico”, slang for pretend doctor apparently, stated that sex addiction was not real. Why?

In defending the existence of his own sexy disorder, Brand defines an addiction thusly:

“[It] is a compulsive behaviour that you cannot control or relinquish, in spite of its destructive consequences”


According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (or DSM-IV, the psychologists bible), that is not an incorrect definition, though it is narrow. However, many believe that the behaviour Brand refers to is actually a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder and refer to it as “sexual compulsivity”. In rebuttal, Patrick Carnes, a doctor from Mississippi, adapted the DSM-IV criteria for substance dependence to demonstrate the plausibility of sex addiction.

Looking at the criteria, the main difference between the arguments for addiction and those for obsessive-compulsive disorder is the need to increase the intensity of the behaviour to achieve the desired effect. Therefore it seems logical that there are sufferers of either.

I think our understanding, or at least our beliefs, of addiction are incredibly narrow if they can only be applied to drugs and alcohol. Why stop there? Why can’t people be addicted to sex? In what way is it different to drug addiction? These are not rhetorical questions, my friends, and I’d very much like to hear other opinions.

Because if somebody doesn’t validate sex addiction soon, I’m gonna have real problems to deal with.

UPDATE: This anonymous post on Deadspin from a sex addict is pretty interesting.

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