In this article, a prominent scientist suggests that we will be able to achieve immoratality in 20 years by replacing our organs with biotic machines and blood with nanotechnology. It all sounds like something out of Ghost in the Shell, or other robotic visions of the future. I can't see it turning out well. What do you think? Do you suppose this is all nonsense?
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/science-news/6217676/Immortality-only-20-years-away-says-scientist.html
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tikkimann Resolves: Critics vs. Proles
Welcome back, everyone. I have another post today, and I think this one will become an occasional feature. Here, I plan to settle massive disputes that have gone on since the dawn of time, possibly later, by showing how both sides actually can or already do agree with each other.
First off: the critics vs. the proles. The avant-garde vs. the layperson. The Andy Warhols vs. the Joe the Plumbers.
In one corner, we have we have the normal people. (Trust me: the critics wouldn't take that as a slight against them.) The normal people enjoy drinking, making loud noises, watching Two and a Half Men, and listening to Lil' Wayne and Eminem. They earn good money, but not great money, and go out to bars or clubs on weekends with friends. The men tend to enjoy yelling rude things at women whilst holding a bottle of Jack Daniel's and slurring their speech, while the women enjoy dying their hair blond, wearing little to no clothing, and getting offended by the hollering men. Most of them are under 30. Some of them enjoy knitting.
In the other corner, we have the critics. The critics enjoy drinking (the finest vintage Chardonnay from a small village in France destroyed during the Second World War), making (quiet, respectful) noises, watching Mad Men, and listening to The Arcade Fire, Lil' Wayne and Eminem. Except Eminem's later stuff--according to critics, around 2004, Eminem "started to suck". They don't earn that much more than the typical person--in fact, some struggle quite hard to earn money by writing about someone else's work--but you wouldn't know that by looking at the Ivory Tower they hold themselves in. (That's not always a metaphor, either: many critics actually live in an ivory tower.)
Since the dawn of time, the not-abnormal folk have taken issue with the fact that critics seem to prefer artier, less-immediate music, and because they are so well-regarded ("by other critics," a regular person like my fat neighbour Hulio might contend), no one hears about how great their favourite group is. If critics had their way, Nickelback wouldn't be a household name! If no one listened to critics, blogs featuring nothing but pictures of kittens would get the recognition they deserve! If everyone thought like Joe Blow, the world would know that The Boondock Saints IS THE SHIZNIZNIT!! (*for the record, some critics actually like The Boondock Saints, but to my knowledge, none of them have referred to said film as 'the shizniznit'.)
Critics, meanwhile, have regarded these acusations with abruptness, amazement, astonishment, astoundment, attack, awe, bewilderment, bombshell, consternation, curiosity, curveball, disappointment, disillusion, epiphany, eureka, eye-opener, fortune, godsend, incredulity, jolt, kick, marvel, miracle, miscalculation, phenomenon, portent, precipitance, precipitation, precipitousness, prodigy, rarity, revelation, shock, start, stupefaction, suddenness, thunderbolt, unexpected, unforeseen, whammy, wonder, and wonderment. Doesn't the common woman or man recognize that the creativity and style present in "Revolution 9" make it the best song on The White Album? That film studio executives who repeatedly make slow and stately adaptations of undeniably classic novels (like The Men Who Stare at Goats! What legendary nonfiction!) need to be praised and rewarded, unlike people who make simple films with breasts and explosions, like Michael Bay? The dime-a-dozen citizen responds that they don't have time to look that hard at everything, and goes back to, and I quote, "actually living life." (The person quoted went on to spend most of his life watching TV, attending restaurants, going to the movies and listening to music.)
Well really, these people would understand each other a lot more if they just listened a little harder--or less hard, for critics. The fact is, individual critics are obsessed with some element of the human experience, be it film, music, or things I didn't mention like food, fragrances...just about anything. One way or another, they end up learning a whole lot about what interests them, and decided to make studying it a career. Some go on to do work in a field that creates more of their chosen art to study, or become historians, but the people I speak of here chose to reward people who make the best art by writing about them in a public forum.
So, what makes a critic disapprove of your favourite film? They've likely studied thousands more films than you have, and while a popular film in wide release may be slick and/or filled with action, more advanced viewers will look for something more--or they're wrong. It happens.
What makes a regular dude like popular tunes, while the critic scorns them? Because occasionally, a great artist will be both great and popular, but there are so many artists who don't have an audience like popular artists do that there's almost always someone out there doing the same thing in a different--dare I say, better?--way. Three other things:
That's all. Battle settled. Critics and everyday people, you can like each other now. Thank me later.
(Thanks to Thesaurus.com for that middle section)
First off: the critics vs. the proles. The avant-garde vs. the layperson. The Andy Warhols vs. the Joe the Plumbers.
In one corner, we have we have the normal people. (Trust me: the critics wouldn't take that as a slight against them.) The normal people enjoy drinking, making loud noises, watching Two and a Half Men, and listening to Lil' Wayne and Eminem. They earn good money, but not great money, and go out to bars or clubs on weekends with friends. The men tend to enjoy yelling rude things at women whilst holding a bottle of Jack Daniel's and slurring their speech, while the women enjoy dying their hair blond, wearing little to no clothing, and getting offended by the hollering men. Most of them are under 30. Some of them enjoy knitting.
In the other corner, we have the critics. The critics enjoy drinking (the finest vintage Chardonnay from a small village in France destroyed during the Second World War), making (quiet, respectful) noises, watching Mad Men, and listening to The Arcade Fire, Lil' Wayne and Eminem. Except Eminem's later stuff--according to critics, around 2004, Eminem "started to suck". They don't earn that much more than the typical person--in fact, some struggle quite hard to earn money by writing about someone else's work--but you wouldn't know that by looking at the Ivory Tower they hold themselves in. (That's not always a metaphor, either: many critics actually live in an ivory tower.)
Since the dawn of time, the not-abnormal folk have taken issue with the fact that critics seem to prefer artier, less-immediate music, and because they are so well-regarded ("by other critics," a regular person like my fat neighbour Hulio might contend), no one hears about how great their favourite group is. If critics had their way, Nickelback wouldn't be a household name! If no one listened to critics, blogs featuring nothing but pictures of kittens would get the recognition they deserve! If everyone thought like Joe Blow, the world would know that The Boondock Saints IS THE SHIZNIZNIT!! (*for the record, some critics actually like The Boondock Saints, but to my knowledge, none of them have referred to said film as 'the shizniznit'.)
Critics, meanwhile, have regarded these acusations with abruptness, amazement, astonishment, astoundment, attack, awe, bewilderment, bombshell, consternation, curiosity, curveball, disappointment, disillusion, epiphany, eureka, eye-opener, fortune, godsend, incredulity, jolt, kick, marvel, miracle, miscalculation, phenomenon, portent, precipitance, precipitation, precipitousness, prodigy, rarity, revelation, shock, start, stupefaction, suddenness, thunderbolt, unexpected, unforeseen, whammy, wonder, and wonderment. Doesn't the common woman or man recognize that the creativity and style present in "Revolution 9" make it the best song on The White Album? That film studio executives who repeatedly make slow and stately adaptations of undeniably classic novels (like The Men Who Stare at Goats! What legendary nonfiction!) need to be praised and rewarded, unlike people who make simple films with breasts and explosions, like Michael Bay? The dime-a-dozen citizen responds that they don't have time to look that hard at everything, and goes back to, and I quote, "actually living life." (The person quoted went on to spend most of his life watching TV, attending restaurants, going to the movies and listening to music.)
Well really, these people would understand each other a lot more if they just listened a little harder--or less hard, for critics. The fact is, individual critics are obsessed with some element of the human experience, be it film, music, or things I didn't mention like food, fragrances...just about anything. One way or another, they end up learning a whole lot about what interests them, and decided to make studying it a career. Some go on to do work in a field that creates more of their chosen art to study, or become historians, but the people I speak of here chose to reward people who make the best art by writing about them in a public forum.
So, what makes a critic disapprove of your favourite film? They've likely studied thousands more films than you have, and while a popular film in wide release may be slick and/or filled with action, more advanced viewers will look for something more--or they're wrong. It happens.
What makes a regular dude like popular tunes, while the critic scorns them? Because occasionally, a great artist will be both great and popular, but there are so many artists who don't have an audience like popular artists do that there's almost always someone out there doing the same thing in a different--dare I say, better?--way. Three other things:
- People have a desire to be on the cutting-edge, to know what's really good, and when someone goes on and on about how great a popular artist is, it's human nature to try to stand out by saying you like someone different. Critics are probably a little more immune to this, but will still have a list of bands/movies/etc. that they like just as much as your favourite artist.
- When that lousy "critic-shmitic" gives your favourit Linkin Park album a 6, it's entirely possible that when they end the article by saying it's an alright album...they mean it. Really! Many if not most critics aren't in a position where they have to pander to interests by humoring the band with a three out of five, and genuinely thought the band was okay. Just--y'know--not as good as a few of the other CDs she or he's heard that week. And honestly, does everyon HAVE to love the same music you do?
- When a critic wonders out loud why everyone is going to see this terrible film when it is "clearly" a piece of utter trash, it's because they know all about film, they go out of their way to support good filmmaking, it's because they love their genre, they're paid to talk about it, and YOU PAID MONEY TO SEE TRANSFORMERS 2. WHAT THE HELL. DID YOU SEE THOSE RACIST ROBOTS?! AND (spoiler ahead) WASN'T THERE SOME KIND OF GIANT SPACE CANNON UNDER THE PYRAMIDS?! You're better than that! And then studios look at that, see what sells, and sure enough, Warner Bros. releases GanGstAA RoWWBawwwtz II: aTTAK O' da MinnI-Vanns (feat. Adidas) in 2010. They can't help but be mad, friends.
That's all. Battle settled. Critics and everyday people, you can like each other now. Thank me later.
(Thanks to Thesaurus.com for that middle section)
Monday, September 7, 2009
The Importance of Originality When Evaluating Art
A week or two ago, I had a debate with a friend about the value of creative, original design when considering the worth of a video game. Why is The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time considered a better game than The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker? He asked. While not strictly a sequel, The Wind Waker has similar gameplay to Ocarina of Time, has some of the same locations, and has design based on the original Legend of Zelda games: a large world map filled with monsters, cities and dungeons where the hero, Link, goes on a quest to rescue the princess Zelda and ostensibly save the land of Hyrule from great harm and/or destruction.
What makes Ocarina of Time unique in the Legend of Zelda series is that it is the first to take place in 3-D. The previous games took place on systems with little or no capacity for 3-D graphics, and Link would travel the kingdom as seen from above, displayed on a 2-D map. The gameplay in three dimensions allowed the player the ability to move their character in 360 degrees of motion; moreover, new features were introduced, like the ability to lock on to moving targets and context-sensitive buttons that would become staples of adventure gaming.
The Wind Waker was released in 2003 in most territories, 5 years after the 1998 release of Ocarina of Time. It innovated, as well: the game featured stylish cel-shaded graphics, the ability to pick up and use some enemy weapons and a new sailing mechanic that involved controlling the wind. Yet, it featured essentially the same control scheme found in the Ocarina of Time from 1998, and walking, running, attacking, automatic defending and automatic jumping are unmodified.
Reviews for the game were very positive, though most sources noted that Wind Waker didn't feel as fresh as Ocarina of Time did, and reviews weren't as great as for Ocarina of Time. This bothered my friend. "Wind Waker is a better game," he argued. "Why does Ocarina of Time get the high placements on best-of lists?" Dissuading most criticisms of Wind Waker, he argued that it looked and played better than Ocarina of Time did. "What impact does originality have on gameplay?"
I disagreed with what he said, and argued with him. Innovation does matter!, I cried. Problem was, I couldn't really say why. Having played Wind Waker only briefly, I couldn't offer too much as to why the game would be better or worse. If Wind Waker was a 'better' game, then it should deserve more respect...but no. I couldn't put my finger on it, but originality was important, too. Erm...quality didn't really matter! Ocarina of Time did it first!
"So what?" My friend asked. "What impact does that have on gameplay?" Wind Waker did it better, he'd say.
We didn't reach a conclusion in that argument, but I've given it some thought, and I think I know now why originality is so much more important in the grand scheme of things.
Consider the painting Voice of Fire. It's a simple-looking painting, featuring two big, long strips of blue paint surrounding a single strip of red. It caused contraversy when the National Gallery of Canada bought it for 1.8 million dollars (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voice_of_Fire). It was easy to look at a painting of a red stripe on blue background and think it was an unworthy purchase, but Voice of Fire is unique. I saw the painting on a trip to Ottawa a few years back, and it generates a unique effect in person: if you look at the painting in a certain way, waves of red leap from the sides of the red stripes like fire, and it's an amazing thing to see. The little .jpg you see here does not do it justice. I suppose any painter could have made the three-coloured painting in a way that created such an effect, but the artist, Barnett Newman, did. If someone were to make a perfect recreation of Voice of Fire today, no art institution would purchase it, let alone for 1.8 million. Just because something can be done, and improved upon, doesn't make it better, as being the first with an original concept has a value all its own.
Let me put this another way, for game owners. The football game series Madden comes out with a new game every year, and adds a number of changes or improvements to the previous installment, along with routine changes like updates to the NFL rosters. I have a friend who jokes that the only thing they change from year to year in the games is the number on the box. It's not true, of course, but it got me thinking: what if one year, a Madden game made almost no changes at all? What if they went into Madden NFL 10, made the grass look better, updated the rosters, and released the game as Madden NFL 11? They could advertise that the game was strictly better than its predecessor, and featured updated graphics. They'd be right; however, people would hate it. The game would receive dreadful reviews, fans would express outrage, and it would sully the brand name. Each Madden game has attempts to update gameplay, adds new features, and, well...innovate. Even if the graphics in Madden NFL 11 were improved dramatically, if the gameplay remained unchanged, people would be disappointed.
Now, the Wind Waker is not strictly better than Ocarina of Time. It does actually innovate, and considering that the game has an average critic score of 96/100 on Metacritic, which aggregates reviews, it certainly isn't considered a terrible game by any means (http://www.metacritic.com/games/platforms/cube/legendofzeldathewindwaker?q=wind%20waker). In fact, a number of critics who have played rereleases of Ocarina of Time found the game dated, at least graphically (http://cube.ign.com/articles/387/387479p2.html). But even if we accept that Wind Waker is a better game in terms of graphics, gameplay, music...on every physical level, Ocarina of Time can still be considered a better game, if we accept that it is more innovative. Such things are subjective, but since an innovative game will likely make a big impact on a player, we can expect to see Ocarina of Time place higher on best-of lists for years to come...much to my friend's chagrin.
What makes Ocarina of Time unique in the Legend of Zelda series is that it is the first to take place in 3-D. The previous games took place on systems with little or no capacity for 3-D graphics, and Link would travel the kingdom as seen from above, displayed on a 2-D map. The gameplay in three dimensions allowed the player the ability to move their character in 360 degrees of motion; moreover, new features were introduced, like the ability to lock on to moving targets and context-sensitive buttons that would become staples of adventure gaming.
The Wind Waker was released in 2003 in most territories, 5 years after the 1998 release of Ocarina of Time. It innovated, as well: the game featured stylish cel-shaded graphics, the ability to pick up and use some enemy weapons and a new sailing mechanic that involved controlling the wind. Yet, it featured essentially the same control scheme found in the Ocarina of Time from 1998, and walking, running, attacking, automatic defending and automatic jumping are unmodified.
Reviews for the game were very positive, though most sources noted that Wind Waker didn't feel as fresh as Ocarina of Time did, and reviews weren't as great as for Ocarina of Time. This bothered my friend. "Wind Waker is a better game," he argued. "Why does Ocarina of Time get the high placements on best-of lists?" Dissuading most criticisms of Wind Waker, he argued that it looked and played better than Ocarina of Time did. "What impact does originality have on gameplay?"
I disagreed with what he said, and argued with him. Innovation does matter!, I cried. Problem was, I couldn't really say why. Having played Wind Waker only briefly, I couldn't offer too much as to why the game would be better or worse. If Wind Waker was a 'better' game, then it should deserve more respect...but no. I couldn't put my finger on it, but originality was important, too. Erm...quality didn't really matter! Ocarina of Time did it first!
"So what?" My friend asked. "What impact does that have on gameplay?" Wind Waker did it better, he'd say.
We didn't reach a conclusion in that argument, but I've given it some thought, and I think I know now why originality is so much more important in the grand scheme of things.
Consider the painting Voice of Fire. It's a simple-looking painting, featuring two big, long strips of blue paint surrounding a single strip of red. It caused contraversy when the National Gallery of Canada bought it for 1.8 million dollars (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voice_of_Fire). It was easy to look at a painting of a red stripe on blue background and think it was an unworthy purchase, but Voice of Fire is unique. I saw the painting on a trip to Ottawa a few years back, and it generates a unique effect in person: if you look at the painting in a certain way, waves of red leap from the sides of the red stripes like fire, and it's an amazing thing to see. The little .jpg you see here does not do it justice. I suppose any painter could have made the three-coloured painting in a way that created such an effect, but the artist, Barnett Newman, did. If someone were to make a perfect recreation of Voice of Fire today, no art institution would purchase it, let alone for 1.8 million. Just because something can be done, and improved upon, doesn't make it better, as being the first with an original concept has a value all its own.
Let me put this another way, for game owners. The football game series Madden comes out with a new game every year, and adds a number of changes or improvements to the previous installment, along with routine changes like updates to the NFL rosters. I have a friend who jokes that the only thing they change from year to year in the games is the number on the box. It's not true, of course, but it got me thinking: what if one year, a Madden game made almost no changes at all? What if they went into Madden NFL 10, made the grass look better, updated the rosters, and released the game as Madden NFL 11? They could advertise that the game was strictly better than its predecessor, and featured updated graphics. They'd be right; however, people would hate it. The game would receive dreadful reviews, fans would express outrage, and it would sully the brand name. Each Madden game has attempts to update gameplay, adds new features, and, well...innovate. Even if the graphics in Madden NFL 11 were improved dramatically, if the gameplay remained unchanged, people would be disappointed.
Now, the Wind Waker is not strictly better than Ocarina of Time. It does actually innovate, and considering that the game has an average critic score of 96/100 on Metacritic, which aggregates reviews, it certainly isn't considered a terrible game by any means (http://www.metacritic.com/games/platforms/cube/legendofzeldathewindwaker?q=wind%20waker). In fact, a number of critics who have played rereleases of Ocarina of Time found the game dated, at least graphically (http://cube.ign.com/articles/387/387479p2.html). But even if we accept that Wind Waker is a better game in terms of graphics, gameplay, music...on every physical level, Ocarina of Time can still be considered a better game, if we accept that it is more innovative. Such things are subjective, but since an innovative game will likely make a big impact on a player, we can expect to see Ocarina of Time place higher on best-of lists for years to come...much to my friend's chagrin.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Awesome Moment: Brüno
Until this Friday, I worked at a distribution centre for a company that sells stationery--pencils, pens, rulers, that kind of thing. Generally, I picked and bagged a variety of goods that stores and schools had ordered for back-to-school, and sent them off to the packers, who fitted them into boxes, and stuffed them with newspapers. Usually, the packers used bubble wrap, which was awesome, and at other times they stuffed the boxes with 6-week-old copies of the National Post--lord knows how they got them. It caused some of my headline-reading co-workers to jokingly comment "Michael Jacson died! Did you know?" all the way into late August.
One day last week, as I passed the packing tables, I was stopped by an acquaintance by the name of Ed. "Hey, Aaron!" he called. He pointed to a stylized graphic of Brüno taken from the Post and said "This is what Chan used to look like, eh?"
Chan was a middle-aged asian man, with black hair, and a strong accent. He stood at the table next, regarding this scene with amusement. I looked back at the graphic, which looked like it had been styled by a six-year old.
"Well, he looked alright back then. I gotta say, emitting pink is a rare quality in a man," I said, and they laughed.
"Oh, he brought in all the ladies." Ed returned. I frowned.
"I find that hard to believe," I said, pointing at the image, "seeing as he's gay." More laughter.
"Really?" replied Ed.
"Well, yeah. He is gay. Water is wet. The sun is hot."
Ed shook his head, calling "Ooooooooh!" He might as well have added, 'Are you going to take that?!'
I didn't mean that as an insult, so I said "No, he is gay. Brüno is gay." Really, really gay: I've seen the film. It was Ed's turn to frown.
"Who's Brüno?"
I just had to laugh. "That's it. I'm out of here. Goodnight, everybody!"
One day last week, as I passed the packing tables, I was stopped by an acquaintance by the name of Ed. "Hey, Aaron!" he called. He pointed to a stylized graphic of Brüno taken from the Post and said "This is what Chan used to look like, eh?"
Chan was a middle-aged asian man, with black hair, and a strong accent. He stood at the table next, regarding this scene with amusement. I looked back at the graphic, which looked like it had been styled by a six-year old.
"Well, he looked alright back then. I gotta say, emitting pink is a rare quality in a man," I said, and they laughed.
"Oh, he brought in all the ladies." Ed returned. I frowned.
"I find that hard to believe," I said, pointing at the image, "seeing as he's gay." More laughter.
"Really?" replied Ed.
"Well, yeah. He is gay. Water is wet. The sun is hot."
Ed shook his head, calling "Ooooooooh!" He might as well have added, 'Are you going to take that?!'
I didn't mean that as an insult, so I said "No, he is gay. Brüno is gay." Really, really gay: I've seen the film. It was Ed's turn to frown.
"Who's Brüno?"
I just had to laugh. "That's it. I'm out of here. Goodnight, everybody!"
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
District 9 Review
In District 9, aliens come to Earth, and their neither cuddly in the E.T. vein or horribly menacing in the...Alien vein. A little brutish, sure, but this is still one of the most even-handed portraits of aliens I've ever seen in a film.
The aliens come not to invade, but because they can't leave, and are apparently quite sick. They are moved to a ghetto in Johannesburg, South Africa, above which their giant ship constantly hovers. They stay, and over a few years, they establish a permanent residence, which becomes a slum. Their population becomes ridden with crime and poverty, and are subjected to...racism, by the locals. (Speciesism? Planetism?)
It's a setup that leaves a few questions; the director uses a lot of quick-cuts to establish a documentary feel, and I'm sure a few more answers are hidden in the early scenes. Still, there's a lot we don't know about the aliens, and the film doesn't seem to care. Though some found the aliens difficult to care for because of their decidedly-not-cuddly appearance, I found the same difficult because I could only occasionally tell what the aliens' intentions as a race were.
Instead, it chooses to focus on the forced eviction of the aliens from District 9 to 10, the MNU operative Wilkus Mewe, and the various issues that spring from living in District 9. This is a good thing: the character (amongst other things) undergoes a major transformation, and is both believable and realistic. He begins the film working for MNU, an international weapons company that manages the slum, and is head of the mission to relocate the aliens. After an incounter with an alien device suddenly makes him very valuable, he finds himself on the run, hiding in the very same District.
The story has an obvious parallel with the apartheid that occurred in South America a few decades ago, as well as any story involving a mistreated ethnic group, or ghetto. The film doesn't ram the message down our throats, thankfully, but the director's intent is clear, and the film shows a crude, cruel world that confirms everything bad you've ever suspected about politicians, police, criminals, desperate men and the injustices present within the human heart. Perhaps it revels a little too much in pointing out the wrongdoing of all humans (and some aliens), but as a racial allegory, I suppose it has reason to do so.
The film is action-packed, intelligent, and well-made. It's one of the best films of the summer, and it comes highly recommended.
The aliens come not to invade, but because they can't leave, and are apparently quite sick. They are moved to a ghetto in Johannesburg, South Africa, above which their giant ship constantly hovers. They stay, and over a few years, they establish a permanent residence, which becomes a slum. Their population becomes ridden with crime and poverty, and are subjected to...racism, by the locals. (Speciesism? Planetism?)
It's a setup that leaves a few questions; the director uses a lot of quick-cuts to establish a documentary feel, and I'm sure a few more answers are hidden in the early scenes. Still, there's a lot we don't know about the aliens, and the film doesn't seem to care. Though some found the aliens difficult to care for because of their decidedly-not-cuddly appearance, I found the same difficult because I could only occasionally tell what the aliens' intentions as a race were.
Instead, it chooses to focus on the forced eviction of the aliens from District 9 to 10, the MNU operative Wilkus Mewe, and the various issues that spring from living in District 9. This is a good thing: the character (amongst other things) undergoes a major transformation, and is both believable and realistic. He begins the film working for MNU, an international weapons company that manages the slum, and is head of the mission to relocate the aliens. After an incounter with an alien device suddenly makes him very valuable, he finds himself on the run, hiding in the very same District.
The story has an obvious parallel with the apartheid that occurred in South America a few decades ago, as well as any story involving a mistreated ethnic group, or ghetto. The film doesn't ram the message down our throats, thankfully, but the director's intent is clear, and the film shows a crude, cruel world that confirms everything bad you've ever suspected about politicians, police, criminals, desperate men and the injustices present within the human heart. Perhaps it revels a little too much in pointing out the wrongdoing of all humans (and some aliens), but as a racial allegory, I suppose it has reason to do so.
The film is action-packed, intelligent, and well-made. It's one of the best films of the summer, and it comes highly recommended.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Miley Cyrus, or why any press is good press
At the Teen Choice awards the monday before last, Miley Cyrus performed and danced to a new song of hers, "Party in the U.S.A." It raised a ton of contraversy, because she looked like that and--arguably--pole-danced. She is sixteen, like many who watched at home. (judge for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDu2rdrwjWM)
Really, this makes sense to me. When it comes to female pop stars, there is a startlingly consistent trend: become successful when young from first album, then develop more sexual image on second or third album/when the artist is almost out of her teens/'as a natural progression of her style' (yeah, right). It happened with Britney Spears, with Christina Aguleira...almost all of them, unless they had a sexual image to begin with (i.e. Shakira). The exceptions to this rule often went on to pose in Playboy anyway, when interest in their career was dying (i.e. Tiffany, Debbie Gibson: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiffany_(singer)#Back_in_public_eye).
Miley is too young to sell, and like Hilary Duff, Disney is waiting a bit before they change her look...too much. Slowly, though, the transition is being made, and I think that is smart, if a little sad. Here, her dance moves hinted (strongly) at latent sexuality, and the bottom half of her outfit reinforced it. It wasn't out-and-out pole dancing, but it didn't need to be.
I don't think even the honchos at Disney expected this much discussion, though.
Later that week, the Toronto Star listed the top 10 songs on iTunes. "Party in the USA" was the fourth most downloaded song that week; it's also number one this week on the Billboard Digital Songs chart (http://new.music.yahoo.com/blogs/chart_watch/41000/week-ending-aug-16-2009-king-of-country-boots-king-of-pop/). I'd never heard the song on radio, and it hasn't received much play yet. I wonder why...
Source: http://www.thestar.com/article/680434
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