Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Virginia Tech Killer (updated)

Awful. And we now get a portrait of a dude who exhibited tell-tale signs of a would-be psycho killer.
“He was always really, really quiet and kind of weird, keeping to himself all the time,” he said. “Just of anti-social, didn’t talk to anybody. I tried to make conversation with him in August or so and he would just give one word answers and not try and carry on the conversation.”
Then there's this:
Cho was an English major whose creative writing was so disturbing that he was referred to the school's counseling service...
I'm sure we'll soon be hearing about him skinning cats for fun.

Whenever something crazy and catastrophic like this happens, demagogues of all stripes use the incident to beat the drum for their own cause. Gun zealots are already crying foul. And in our nativist climate, I'm rather curious about how Cho's national origins would play. By way of background, the Post identifies Cho as a Centreville, VA man who immigrated from South Korea to the United States as a child. The emphasis seems right. Having immigrated as a pre-schooler to the United States myself, I would certainly think it's more accurate to describe me first as someone from Alhambra, CA rather than "an immigrant from Taiwan" . The AP on the other hand, leads with the guy's national origins and immigration status, as if he were an exchange student. The guy grew up in the U.S.; he was majoring in English lit. He's not a fob. It'll be interesting to see if the media continues to emphasize Cho's weirdness and alienation (which may partially be attributed to the immigrant experience but obviously not entirely) as the story plays out, or if they start playing up his foreign origins.

Lastly, did he go by his surname first? If not (and I can't imagine why he would), why is the media calling him Cho Sueng-Hui? Weird.

Update: A Counterstrike fanatic! Mercy as we go through another cycle of hand-wringing about violent video games.

Update 2: Obviously, his ethnic background should be mentioned. But it's not his defining characteristic (I'd suggest "sociopathic"), unlike, say, the 9/11 attackers, whose motivation is religious tribalism. To AP 's credit, the story discussed up top eventually had the headline altered to "English Major blamed for massacre," though I'm not sure being an English major is all that germane either. Last note on this: I still think the Asian American's Journalism Association's advisory, imploring the press to not identify Cho's race unless "germane to the story" is an overreaction, but reading these kinds of exchanges between right-wing nutjobs gives me some pause (Via Daily Dish (and House Next Door). Now, it's entirely expected that some whites, especially in economically distressed times, would scapegoat minorities for their problems, especially the illegal immigrants perceived to be taking their jobs. What's disturbing is the large number of whites who think of themselves as besieged on all quarters by minorities and "liberals" -- two classes that don't actually wield a whole lot of power in this country. You can find the sentiment underlying the grievances aired during the two big media stories last week, the Imus brouhaha and the Duke lacrosse team botch-job. It's hard to say what's most pathetic about these people: their bottomless self-pity, the total lack of self-awareness, or their unshakable sense of white entitlement.

Oh, and Jo, the throwaway comment about Old Boy? Check this photo out. What. A. Fucking. Basketcase.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Madame de...

In anticipation of a reacquaintance with the exquisite Madame de... tonight at LACMA's Janus series, I googled the movie and unearthed this declaration by Andrew Sarris:
When people have asked me to name the greatest film of all time—in my humble opinion, of course—my instant answer has been unvarying for the past 30 years or so: Max Ophüls’ Madame de … (1953).
Sarris then names a few of this movie's most passionate supporters, which include the likes of Pauline Kael and David Thomson. Then Sarris raised an interesting question: is there a generation gap when it comes to the work of Max Ophüls, and does that extend even to his widely acknowledged masterpiece? I haven't seen Madame de... since college. I remember falling in love, mesmerized by not only those tracking shots but also by the lightness of touch, and by the idea that we can't ever truly know our lovers. Unlike, say, Ugetsu, another "sublime" objet d'art from 1953 loved by the same set of critics (and which I stupidly dismissed at the time as melodramatic tripe), it's a tragedy played more like a waltz than an opera.

But I wonder if I hadn't been unduly influenced by Sarris and Kael's raves, included in Confessions of a Cultist and I Lost It At the Movies respectively, which read more like descriptions of first orgasms than proper movie reviews. (As perhaps the ultimate formalist, Ophüls tends to elicit reviews that are little more than recounts of rapturous virgin viewings -- see also Thomson's Biographical Dictionary entry.) And it does seem peculiar that Madame de... is not especially celebrated among the younger set of critics I know, and Ophüls' rep in general appears to have lost some luster, even as Ophüls-devotee Stanley Kubrick has now become the supreme godhead for twentyandthirtysomething movie buffs. Can it be that Ophüls' quaint romanticism just doesn't hold up for young contemporary audiences, as Sarris surmises? Is this peerless formalist, like Griffith, Rossellini, and Ford, something of a fallen master, known for a style that has lost resonance with contemporary movie enthusiasts?

Perhaps so. His other movies that I've seen are impeccably filmed and highly sensitive to the wronged woman's conflicted heart, but also are flawed in some fundamental way. If Godard had mistakenly decided to make Contempt not the story of a marriage but as a tragic character study of Brigette Bardot, it might've turned into Lola Montes, one of the most beautiful films ever made about an utterly vapid character. La Ronde is very clever. A nice little woman's pic/noir hybrid, Caught's somewhat underrated but lacks urgency. Le Plaisir is a trifle. And if martyred naifs are your thing, Letter from an Unknown Women is about as good as it gets. It's naturally the only one of his movies I don't like. Have yet to see La Signora di Tutti and Leibelei, and The Reckless Moment is actually number 1 on my must-see list, but who knows when it'll be screened again, or when the DVD rights will finally be cleared? After surveying this uneven body of work, doubts arise concerning the director's position in the pantheon. But even if Ophüls is downgraded, we're still left with that inimitable style and that camera that pirouettes and glides across the set so gracefully that aesthetes are left weeping with joy in their seats, a "vindication of cinema," in the words of Thomson.

We're also left with Madame de...which I'm anxiously hoping will be as breathtaking as I remembered. I fear it may be like sex with an old lover -- the reacquaintance can never live up to your memories of past encounters. Oh, drat, now I'm resorting to this lame metaphor.

Life in Los Angeles explained

This handy graph, courtesy of the Economists View blog, finally reveals what Angelenos have long known: this place is a freakin' sausage factory.
The Blue bubbles mean areas where men out-number women. Red bubbles indicate areas where women outnumber men. The bigger the bubble, the greater the numerical disparity between genders. One can draw an obvious conclusion from this graph: that single females are huddled east of the Mississippi, while single men congregate westward. How to explain this? I can offer a reasonable explanation for the Bay Area, but otherwise, I got nothin'.

At least the trouble appears more systemic. It's gratifying to learn that it may not be just my bad luck (or worse, extreme uncoolness) that has doomed me to habitually attend events where at least a 3-to-2 sausage ratio prevails. Perhaps now I can finally find the strength to stop complaining about an infamous social outing when I ended up busting out "Ice, Ice Baby" in front of twelve dudes I've never met before at a birthday party. This was two years ago, and I still haven't recovered.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

There he goes again

Apparently, this ridiculous piece by old friend David Ehrenstein published in the LA Times op-ed page has achieved some notoriety, though not the good kind. Leaving morons like Rush out of it, Ehrenstein's sad imitation of Armond White doesn't begin to stand up to any kind of scrutiny. In a nutshell, Ehrenstein argues that Barack Obama is a real life manifestation of a fantasy movie figure, the Sidney Poitier/Morgan Freemanesque "Magic Negro", who somehow assuages white guilt through the sheer nobility of his being. The argument is so very, very wrong. And dumb.

To be sure, the "Magic Negro" exists as a singularly irritating Hollywood trope, and I appreciate Ehrenstein's discussion of same. I personally would've singled out Djimon "let us free" Hounsou as being the post-Poitier exemplar of the patronizing "Magic Negro" archetype (even Freeman is allowed to stand on his own sometimes), but the examples provided were fine. Attaching the label to Obama? Here's Ehrenstein's entire case:
It's the way [Obama] said it that counts the most. It's his manner, which, as presidential hopeful Sen. Joe Biden ham-fistedly reminded us, is "articulate." His tone is always genial, his voice warm and unthreatening, and he hasn't called his opponents names (despite being baited by the media).
I mean, that's it. That's all he has. Let's dispense with it, then, shall we? First, his entire against Obama rests on positive stylistic traits to which any number of presidential contenders aspire. Hillary is also trying to project these same qualities (warm, familiar, unthreatening) with less success. So is someone like Republican contender Mike Huckabee, who's trying to put a friendly, congenial face on social conservatism. Would Ehrenstein prefer that Obama run as Mr. Angry Black Man? He's running to appeal to the most people, not to flatter the sensibility of narcissistic culture critics. More pointedly, the Magic Negro, as defined in the piece, is a black man without a past, who exists solely to redeem the white protagonist. What does it say when Obama's campaign message is basically "vote for me because my life story offers hope for a better future." This is biography-as-metaphor, and Obama himself used his best-selling memoir as a launching pad. Obama is all about telling his own story, which is the opposite of what a Magic Negro should be doing, no?

In movie terms, Obama is more like Denzel, the charismatic, likable protagonist whose actions drive the story. We root for Denzel because we like him and he's the good guy, not because he's there to teach the white star some valuable lesson. In the same way, Obama's appeal comes from his incredible charisma, compelling biography, and the sense that he's trustworthy, authentic, and has good judgment, not because he grabs our sympathy as a noble helper guy, auditioning to be the Vernon Jordan of the post-Bush era. The whole idea doesn't stand up to one poke. One really has to wonder what's going on at the LA Times op-ed section when they run something as sloppily thought-out as this. Just because it has a provocative title? Perhaps the Times feels the need to balance the weekly lunatic ravings of Jonah Goldberg with retarded lefty rants, and David Sirota wasn't available this week.

Update: I guess there's a lot of shit going down in the Times recently. Running dumbass opinion pieces are the least of its troubles. Please Broad/Burkle/Zell, step in and do something.

Friday, March 16, 2007

You know what I hate about blogs?

Blog triumphalists. Talking Points Memo did a great job digging into US Attorney purges amid widespread media apathy, but generally blogs, even excellent ones, are little more than opinions on news of the day. News reported by reporters and disseminated by the major media outlets. Both sides love to knock the "MSM", but without the mainstream press -- and the resources it brings to bear --the blogosphere would be nothing more than a couple of tennis players playing without a ball.

How do we know if the surge is working or not working? Why did Bush cut a deal with North Korea? What's happening at Walter Reed Hospital? What's going on in Pakistan, China, France, Darfur, and Argentina? Not from some dude pounding away on his keyboard in a basement in Spokane.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Nuggets from the inbox

Another sign that the end is nigh? (Breast-men should avoid clicking on the link; others, please scroll down for the picture.)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Dept. of Really Bad Game

In another e-mail sent in January, Shipman wrote Oefelein at his NASA e-mail address: "I love you and I am head-over-heals IN love with you." Oefelein responded the next day from his office e-mail: "You must really have me around your finger that I can't even function without you here."
Jesus. Oefelein's chances to be the Maxim Man of the Year just went up in smoke.

Also:
Oefelein told investigators that when he broke off his romantic relationship with Nowak in January, she "seemed a little disappointed, but she seemed to be accepting of that."

Oefelein and Nowak still agreed to be gym partners and train for a bicycle race together, he said. Nowak still called Oefelein daily and left friendly messages, he said, but "I wasn't always receptive to the phone call."
Not a good idea to be workout partners with someone you just dumped, astronaut.