Critics

Discussion this morning on the CBC's The Current about the (apparently) declining influence of critics, particularly on film and television.

I still pay a fair bit of attention to critics as regards film (I watch very little TV). Can't say I'm systematic about it, but I tend to read enough that by the time I'm up for deciding whether I really want to go to the cinema and plunk down my cash, I've digested several opinions. And it does, very much, make a difference to me at that stage of the game (rentals, not so much, but I get a lot more experimental renting a DVD, since it's a bit less trouble and expense, usually, and turning it off is also less complicated). Spiked watching both Alexander and Lucas' latest on the strength of pans (in the former case) and less-than-convincing positive press (in the latter).

I do find critics very uneven, and find I read them with a high level of suspicion. I rather like some of Kevin Smith's films, but his actually very positive review of the Lucas thing, I'm afraid, cut no mustard with me; he sounded, to me, like he'd been impressed by things that weren't particularly impressive (I mean oh, wow, it's dark. Great. Mebbe I'll just sit in a room with the lights off, for a while. Less trouble, and probably a lot less insulting to my intelligence).

They talked a bit about blogs, informal reviewers, et al. Call me a snob (it ain't like it'd be real original), but honestly (disregarding, for a moment how deliciously appropriate it is that I'm saying this in this particular venue), I find much of what I find on the web pretty hard to take real seriously. I could dine at the Café Henry Burger on the proceeds if someone gave me a dime for every really quite beside-the-point bit of drivel that somehow makes it to the top of the IMDB user comments. I'm thinking, as I write this, of the yutz who nattered that Easy (mentioned a few posts back) was too 'politically correct' for his tastes 'cos gosh, some of the love interests weren't actually white. Yep. Gotta worry 'bout you, chum, that you even particularly noticed, let alone cared. And it's so very relevant to the piece's artistic qualities, in any case (note: use the phrase 'politically correct', and I generally tune you out anyway, right then, but I've ranted elsewhere and at length about that already, so I'll leave it for now). And there are worse examples on the board, I'm afraid.

Anyway. To any critics out there, worrying about your apparently diminished relevance, you've still got one reader, anyway. Make your opinions make sense to me, and you've got my ear.

No, I'm not suicidal. Just busy.

Went to a fast food joint to pick up a burger for lunch today.

No, I'm not suicidal. Just busy. Figured I could use the break at lunch to get a few non-work (or non-paying work) things done, so a quick burger would get me there.

Anyway, found myself looking at the actually kinda pretty border of ornamental shrubs next to the drive-through—a bunch of nicely watered plants, the beds dressed in pine bark mulch, all sitting next to a yellow plastic sign with airbrushed pictures of burgers—and thinking: it's almost disprespectful of living things to put them here.

Poor things. I'm sure they'd rather be growing in a nice, pretty meadow somewhere.

The longest half second

Dunno if I've actually got slightly better reaction times than the average for my species, or if I'm just always in a bit more of a hurry, but the longest half-second in my life is always that interval it takes the guy in front of me at the light to notice that it's green, and that the coast is clear, and so he can now, any time he feels like, really, actually start the paperwork involved in getting his foot to the accelerator.

I suspect Neal Stephenson feels the same way. I remember a passage early in Snow Crash in which Y.T. goes through the same sort of supposition, picturing a guy in a minivan going through the slow and ponderous motions involved in trying to maneuver to get her off it (not gonna explain that; if you've read the book, you know). Find myself thinking of that bit at stoplights now all the time.

Purty Gutenbergs

Also in this week's Nature is a piece on a paper (Tracy Chaplin et al) in Analytical Chemistry on a study of the pigments used to illuminate the Gutenberg bibles. Seems the Gutenbergs, despite being the first mass-produced book (180 copies in three years, which, sure, ain't much for a modern Heidelberg, but still beat those poor monks doin' it the pen-and-ink way silly), went first to workshops where they were lavishly hand-illuminated. The Chaplin team used a laser technique called Raman spectroscopy to identify the compounds in the pigments used, toward reconstructing 15th century techniques for illumination.

Love pretty old books. Gave myself an excuse, not long ago, to do some research into old press and hand-illumination techniques and technologies. But the image in the Nature paper in the digital edition was pretty low-res, for some reason. So here's a nicer one.

Ouch

Who would have thought that such a small book could contain so many errors? These are not the errors that a pernickety specialist dutifully finds in a popular account of a complex scientific topic. We're all prone to those, and need to keep in mind the eighteenth-century advice of Viscount Bolingbroke: "Truth lies within a little and certain compass, but error is immense." Rather, Feldman's errors in Poison Arrows are fundamental and imply a flawed scientific understanding of his material.

— John Carmody, reviewing Stanley Feldman's Poison Arrows, in this week's Nature

Ouch. Yep, that's the first paragraph of the review. Double ouch.

Now and then, I have this weird fantasy/nightmare—suspect all aspiring authors get these—in it, I get a book published and even reasonably prominently reviewed... which you'd think would be a very good thing, kinda thing you'd think you could live with quite regardless of what the reviewers said... except that the reviews are all so embarrassingly dismissive that I can't actually show my face in public anymore, since the universal derisive laughter distracts so severely from conversation... Reading a review like this, it doesn't help.

The anxiety is aggravated, of late, in my case, methinks, by the fact that the current principal object of that anxiety is a fantasy book, and besides the fact that I never really figured I'd write a fantasy book (and a lotta people who know me seem to feel the same), somehow, it seems to me, what could be said about such a work could become so much nastier: "Milne's work deftly touches on all the standard touchstones of the Campbellian myths. Which is my entirely too polite way of saying it's really, incredibly, painfully derivative. Save yourself a few bucks, and just read the dust jacket. It's pretty much that obvious."

It doesn't help either, methinks, that I've read so many very nasty reviews (and hell, even written a few). And, sadly, I kinda like them. So I can't really help myself. There's just so much I could do with such a work: "Baroque prose style? That's putting it politely. Let me put it more honestly: it will not be sufficient merely to hunt down Mr. Milne and kill him for putting such sentences together. We should also find all the editors involved in allowing them to run. And their extended families. And their pets."

'Kay. Enough of that. Gettin' scary.

Even better

I see they've also refused the fee and withdrawn the co-sponsorship.

I get why they did it, but still, kinda too bad about the fee. Woulda been such a beautiful thing, taking that sixteen thou, kicking it into the funding of an evolutionary biologist's research project or somethin'.

Kinda embarrasses me that they gotta mention that O'Leary nutter is Canadian. Between her and Buckna, it's bad optics. But it also kinda reinforces my sense of solidarity with the actually sane folk in the Kansas environs, I guess.

Guess that'll have to do

The Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History recently approved a request by the Discovery Institute to hold a private, invitation-only screening and reception at the Museum on June 23 for the film “The Privileged Planet.” Upon further review we have determined that the content of the film is not consistent with the mission of the Smithsonian Institution’s scientific research. Neither the Smithsonian Institution nor the National Museum of Natural History supports or endorses the Discovery Institute or the film “The Privileged Planet.” However, since Smithsonian policy states that all events held at any museum be “co-sponsored” by the director and the outside organization, and we have signed an agreement with this organization, we will honor the commitment made to provide space for the event.

— Statement by the Director, National Museum of Natural History, via The Panda's Thumb

A lotta ID-friendly folk will, you may reasonably expect based on past experiences, still crow to any and all who might not know the details that 'the Smithsonian showed this film!'. But it'll do, I guess.

And tomorrow, one must presume, it will rain blood

... followed by a plague of locusts. 'Cos when Paul Anka covers Nirvana, the apocalypse just can't be far behind.

Gotta give the guy credit. Some of this stuff almost sounds strangely appropriate, arranged this way. But the Smells like teen spirit cover, I'm afraid, is just disturbing.

The man is starting to scare me. He really is.

Needs more genocide

We've been relying, what with having an infant at home, on DVDs a bit more lately. And my lovely wife complained the other day, as I returned from the rental place, that the stuff I bring home is always so 'heavy'.

Okay. So Hotel Rwanda and Ringu aren't exactly romantic comedies. But what can ya do? I'm not watching the latest Bridget Jones.

(Okay. I exaggerate by omission. For the record, I also brought home Easy—yes, thinking of the last time she complained about this—and can actually recommend it. Has a very nice attempted suicide scene, and a lovely tragic-coma-bedside-watch thing going on.)

Seriously, I guess she does have a point. Dunno if it's anything to worry about, but my favourite stuff, lately, in books and movies, is pretty light on the laughs. The 'kid's book' I wrote a while back, in what was mostly meant to be a shot at a little nice, fun escapism, did come out a bit more grim than I initially had in mind—enough that I worry, now and then, about whether I should even be trying for its original market segment anymore. The 'lighthearted satire' I'm trying to do now is managing to stay reasonably tongue in cheek, but now features a clearly psychotic and unpleasantly warped fallen angel. It was meant to be funny, but I dunno... Seems to be some kinda inverse relationship between my intentions and what comes out, in this regard. Starting to think if I tried to write a romantic comedy, it would wind up containing a genocide. Or two.

Dunno when I got to be so serious. Must try to watch more Kids in the Hall.

This should probably be illegal

Due to the weirdness that is my life, and the fact that my circadian rhythms are a little like a rhumba of late, I woke up at four am this morning.

This was good. Got stuff done in the wee hours, prior to la famille waking up. Watered the clover I'm growing to rehabilitate some bare patches in the front lawn (a perennial problem; we have massive maples out there which give the grass some real competition), got some writing done. And am now enjoying an awfully huge 'iced latte' (actually, just espresso in some milk, with ice, much the same as I make at home) from one of the absurdly overpriced coffee places local to the office.

Four demitasses worth of espresso, with milk and ice. This should probably be illegal.

He writes a letter

Did I really say just blogging was gonna be slow for a while.

Anyway: a recent letter to the Smithsonian re this and this:

To whom it may concern:

Regarding the Discovery Institute's intent to screen "The Privileged Planet": do please accept the offer of the JREF of a donation of $20,000, rather than allowing the Discovery Institute to buy undeserved credibility in so shameless a fashion.

I understand the SI's official stance vis a vis endorsement of the views of material shown at such events. But the reality is the official stance isn't going to carry much weight with such experienced prevaricators as the DI and their fellow travellers using this event in their spin

I love your institution, and what it stands for. Spent a lot of time there, when I lived in the DC environs. And I'm all for hearing out all views in genuine scientific controversies.

But the ID crowd do not satisfy any reasonable standard for credibility, in this regard. They are, rather, deeply, trenchantly, and systematically intellectually dishonest. Their arguments are clearly not made in good faith; rather, they make use of the worst methods of propagandists and PR engineers, in crafting material clearly designed to confuse the unsophisticated.

So aiding them in any way does not serve the cause of furthering scientific literacy. You do not, therefore, I think, want to aid them in any way in their project to undermine good science.

Regards, and please do make the best decision here,

AJ Milne

On a related note, James Randi is da bomb.

The Silver Hearts' first CD

... has been reissued, and is now in stock at CD Baby.

This is further to my previous rants and raves.

Lying twits in mitres

I have noted, with some level of outrage, on several recent occasions, conniving Vatican types spouting in the press about how 'secular humanism' and atheism are great eeevils... responsible for such things as fascism and communism (and thus, by extension, the Gulag and the Holocaust), the reason there ain't a chicken in every pot, etcetera etcetera. For a few recent examples, see this and this.

Pretty sure there musta been a memo at Pope Central on this. Probably, methinks, somethin' to do with the fact that Ratzinger's election (oh, wait, sorry, he was 'chosen' by the invisible sky fairy or somethin', technically, in terms of the theology, wasn't he?) is a massive PR headache, what with that Hitler youth thing 'n all. So pinning the Holocaust on someone else—anyone else—that would be a good thing, right about now.

Trouble is, particularly in the case of the Holocaust, it don't so much wash. And, appropriately enough, it's pretty much in Goebbels Big Lie territory, really, in terms of what it doesn't mention. Fact is, the Vatican was, on occasion, not entirely unfriendly with the Nazis in the day. And as to the Vatican's history of wiping out Jews, hey, that's quite the story, in case anyone's forgotten. Or have we forgotten that that's mostly what the Inquisition was about (and if this is news to you, you might try Googling on 'marranos' and 'Inquisition', for a little refresher).

So yeah, that's how it is. The institution that lead the previous largest and most organized campaign of harassment, intimidation, and grisly execution of Jews, and which wasn't above some collusion with National Socialism during their kick at that same can (and don't even get me started on the general phenomenon of anti-Semitism fed elsewhere by Catholic and other Christian sects—and remember, many of the Marranos were effectively forced to conversion by enraged mobs wound up by anti-Semitic sermons—and how much religion probably had to do with setting the context that made the Holocaust possible), is now saying secularism and atheism are to blame for fascism. Pretty damned rich, if you ask me.

(The Gulag, okay, sure, that's arguably a somewhat less flagrant lie. Insofar as, yes, the Chinese and Russian Communists were and are atheists—among other things—and there were those on the secular left of their day briefly pretty enthusiastic about Lenin's revolution, prior to the stuff that started coming out about the salt mines. So it's not total intellectual hogwash to suggest secularism might have had a hand there. But 'long as we're talking about folks effectively supporting corrupt and repressive regimes, do let's take a look at the Vatican's and other Christian sects' long history of working comfortably with such charming institutions as monarchies—read: dictatorships with slightly less messy successions—and lacklustre commitment to anything looking like democracy when it actually takes some balls to get it—liberation theology, anyone? Though I digress.)

I'm not, actually, so much pissed with the Vatican about this. Though only 'cos this is just what I'd expect from them. 'Cos that's what the Vatican is. Just one of the oldest, nastiest, and most viciously amoral corporate structures still ticking. Their PR is deceptive, manipulative bullshit, sure, just like every other such body in the history of the world.

The so-called reporters, on the other hand, who actually let them get away with this crap, they're another matter.

Guys, hey, read up. If you didn't know organizations like that are endlessly, deceptively self-congratulatory, and always ready to demonize anyone holding principles opposed to their own, what the hell is wrong with you? They do not deserve to get those quotes in. Not without someone to gainsay them. Otherwise, you're just doing their dirty work for them.

It's an old principle guys, straight from J-school. If your mamma tells you she loves you, get it checked. And if Vatican types tell ya something—hell, anything—break out those bullshit detectors. And get ready to field-repair the needles, after they bend 'right round the spindles.

The shakes

Because I am, I'm afraid, an obssessive-compulsive writer, and got on a roll last night that lasted 'til a little past 4 am, I'm relying heavily on espresso today to prop my eyelids open.

No, this ain't good. And there's a certain cardiologist somewhere back there who'd probably be pretty pissed off about that, right now, if he knew.

All I have to say in my defense is hey, at least it's just caffeine. Worse things I could use, right?

And it looks, in retrospect, like it was worth it. I'm still alive. Made it to work. And the passage still sings, by the cold light of the morning after, if I do say so myself.

Yes, this is nuts. But I'd insert a stock 'I'd rather wear out than rust' line here, if I was awake enough to think of one halfway coherent. Priorities, people.

Things that kinda annoy me

Okay. Said things were gonna be slow. Maybe I lied.

Just recommended to a few friends, thanks to a tip from Holly, an odd little Winnipeg band called The Duhks.

In the course of doing so, found out a few folks had actually burned the tracks of one of my other recent recommendations—specifically, The Silver Hearts—to their various MP3 players. No, they didn't buy a disk. They burned the tracks off the one I lent them.

Great, folks. That's nice. Good to hear you liked them (yet to meet anyone who doesn't), and I hope you're spreading the word. But just so ya know, the Hearts are, despite immense critical acclaim, not exactly living high on the hog, last I heard. They live to play, but they also gotta play to live. Royalties, well, they need those.

So listen, this is how it is, and it's on your conscience: if, honestly, you probably never woulda bought that CD, or don't know yet, and they're just on your drives 'cos you figured you might as well, fine, burn the tracks, and I'll still talk to you...

But if you actually like these guys, and their music, in some way, has actually somewhat enriched your pathetic little lives, and you're just bein' lazy and/or cheap, and don't feel like picking up the phone or dashin' off an email and actually paying for a CD you actually like to listen to, well, look: my grandaddy was a jazz musician (yes, historically one of the most ripped-off groups of artists in the recent history of the world), and I don't think, on principle, I'm gonna be able to be real nice to you from now on, if this is how it is.

So if this is the case, here's the link at CD Baby. Don't make me sic Sue Mingus on you.

And as a general topic, yeah, this has always kinda pissed me off. Listen, you wanna bittorrent the latest bubbleheaded megastar pop diva's hit single 'cos for some sick reason you got an itch and wanna hear it, fine, I won't tell. Odds are the rest of the disk's shite anyway, and the people pushin' that stuff onto the playlists got about as much cred with me as crack dealers. But the Hearts work their hearts out to make disks full of scary beautiful music. So give 'em a quarter so they can buy lunch, fer cryin' out loud. And if yer so hard up you think you can't afford it, let me know. I'll buy you a disk, if that's what it takes.

Thus endeth the rant.

Thin and stretched

... like butter spread over too much bread.

And thank you, J.R.R.

A bit overextended these days. Blogging's probably gonna be slow a while.